As I said in a previous blog about my ministry in Nicaragua, I was dissatisfied. Sure, I liked playing with the kids in Bethel, but how was that significant compared to working with women who have been abused or men who have lost their entire families? These children have roofs over their heads, food to keep them from starving, clothes to keep them warm, and families to care for them. Why in the world was I placed there? I didn’t understand.
I had this false expectation that I was going to be impactful. More so, I had the expectation that I was going to physically see how the Lord was going to use me to impact others. I also had the expectation that I was going to serve those in need, complete with my definition of what it meant to be in need. To go further, I also prioritized other people’s needs. Reflecting upon these hidden expectations and assumptions, it’s no wonder that I was dissatisfied with the work I was doing. I already had an outline of what my ministry was going to be like. Thankfully, God knows best, and He decided that maybe I needed to be smacked in the face.
I wasn’t actually smacked in the face. Sorry to disappoint you. Although, I did feel like I got hit in the gut the day I left Bethel. I enjoyed these kids. I had a blast playing with them and teaching them in Vacation Bible School. It was in those last three days when my team taught the kids God’s love that I finally felt we were making a difference. Yet, it was in the days leading up to the end that we were able to build relationships with these children. I was so focused on what I thought these kids were getting (and more so not getting) from our time there that I didn’t acknowledge how attached I was getting. In other words, it took my leaving to finally realize how much I loved these children.
After our last lesson, which was our final day in Bethel, the kids scattered. I didn’t know where my little boys ran off to. I thought they knew I was leaving. I thought they would stick around to say goodbye. I became frantic at the thought that I wouldn’t be able to give them a hug and say goodbye. In that moment, I understood that God gave these children to me as a gift. They were a gift that I didn’t appreciate until I thought they were gone. The van was departing from the village in just a few minutes; I knew I didn’t have much time. I quickly scoured the streets looking for any sign of my little boys. They were nowhere to be found. Realizing I wouldn’t be able to find them all, I took a chance at finding at least one; Jairo, my favorite little monkey. I walked to his house and asked his mother if he was home. He wasn’t. I lost hope of saying goodbye to any of the kids I made friends with, leaving feelings of frustration and sadness to overtake me. Accepting defeat, I turned around and started walking toward the van, knowing we were already late. Right as I turned around, I heard my name being called. Spinning back, I saw Jairo, mi mono, running down the street. He was flailing his arms around and shouting my name. I jumped toward him, feeling completely and joyfully overwhelmed, and enwrapped him in a hug. God gave me this gift. He gave me a goodbye hug from a little boy whom I had grown to love.
God provided this moment of happiness, this small moment. Sad thing is, I had God’s gift all along. I played with these children almost every day. I didn’t fully appreciate His gift until I thought it was being taken from me. God loves us, and he daily provides us with gifts we fail to appreciate. Let’s take on a new heart and be thankful for what we have, whether big or small.
