San Andres isn’t a town you can find on a map. Actually I wouldn’t even call it a town at all. It’s more like a tiny, dead end village on the northern countryside of Bolivia. With a population of about 30 people and a 5 hour walk to the nearest town (Apolo), San Andres would probably seem more like torture and complete exclusion to the average American. The lack of transportation and the road conditions make it extremely difficult and sometimes impossible to get food, clothes, medicine or any other necessities into the town.
Sunday at Church
The road from Apolo to San Andres is a mix between swampy weeds as high as the car, knee deep mud puddles, 3 rivers, and jagged rocks which often includes a 40 foot drop on one side. At times I questioned if my little Sentra would fit on this narrow, curvy road, which they used as a 2-way road.
We arrived on a Saturday evening. It was raining so hard we couldn’t see much of our surroundings. That’s when anxiety started to set in. I started to realize how far we had gone and how helpless we would be if something bad happened to us. How were we going to get back over that mountain in this rain? What if we wreck? What if we get stuck here for days? What if we get sick? As questions of anxiety overflowed in my head, I remembered that God sent us here for a specific reason. I remember that his right had guides me. I remembered that He will keep me safe in his dwelling and He hides me in the shadow of his wings. These are some things that God had to continually remind me throughout this trip.
Due to the rain, we did not stay in our tents that night. One of the church members graciously allowed us to stay in his house. His tin roof was perfect for listening to the sound of the rain. The walls and the floor of the house were made out of mud and the ceiling was covered with spiders. There were no decorations on the walls, or drawers for clothes. There was just one bed and a skinny, wooden bench. The people are accustomed to living like this. They are accustomed to having near to nothing everyday. They have no bathrooms, no showers or running water. They have no stores or medical care. They don’t even have a place to put their trash. They just throw it in the bushes. I was having a hard time grasping how real the poverty is.
Before dinner that night our host asked us if we like to walk. I thought that was an interesting question. After I answered yes, he said good, because we might have to walk back tomorrow if it keeps raining like this. He said the car wouldn’t make it through the mud not to mention it would be too dangerous. I later learned that this is a normal excursion for him. That he has often made the trek back by foot and he is not the only one. The 87-year-old pastor who lives in Apolo, makes the same trip every weekend and finds himself walking back about twice a month. For all I’m concerned this elderly man is risking his life every Sunday to minister to these people. He said he doesn’t live in San Andres because there is no way to earn money. At 87-years-old I find it astonishing that he continues to serve at this church.
Usually a trip like this would lead me to a state of overwhelming anxiety, but there is something about being in the center of God’s Will that gives you a sense of tranquility. No matter how bad our situation was I knew God wanted us at that place, at that time, and with those people. I laid in bed that night, calm and comfortable. I prayed that God would overflow his love onto these people. I prayed that He would use us to touch their hearts. I still don’t know what kind of impact we made. Maybe I never will, but I’m so thankful for the opportunity God gave us to minister to these people in such a desolate area.
I am also extremely thankful that God helped us get back to Apolo safely and in a timely manner. When we arrived back the next day our host said that it was a miracle. Accustomed to the crazy road conditions, even she thought that we shouldn’t have taken that trip. There were times when I was afraid, but God reminded me that He was with us. I know he was protecting us. I know He was watching over us. I felt it. I was not in a panic, not once. Not even when we were driving 4 inches from the side of the cliff. God continually comforted me.
For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over in our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.
2 Corinthians 1:5
