The orange, blue, and green tiny motorboat hummed along Lake Nicaragua on a warm, sunny Friday afternoon. As the wind brushed against my face, I looked ahead to discover Zapatera Island coming into full view. My friends’ voices filled the humid air with the sounds of Justin Bieber and Macklemore—only the best boat riding music selection, of course.
I had only a slight picture of expectation in my mind’s eye of what the island life would behold. Construction projects, this I knew, but other questions of the people, culture, and living situation floated around in my head. I most certainly did not prepare for what happened when I stepped off the boat into the murky lake water.
There was no boat dock, no island port. There was, however, a lovely man whom we would later know as Pastor Ulice and his family waiting along the shoreline, which also acted as their front yard.
The beautiful family of six spoke no English, but their smiles and hugs spoke immensely of their excitement and joy. Thankfully, Anna, a friend of mine from Team Bioluminescence, was able to act as our translator during our four days on the island.
Only walking up a small hill led us right to the pastor’s home; a small, wooden plank building with a sturdy cinderblock foundation and a shiny, silver tin roof. There were two doors, a bedroom behind each, and a small doorway to the right of the doors, which led into the kitchen. The bathroom was within walking distance, but kept at bay due to its nature of being a 10-foot deep hole in the ground with maggots crawling below. Chickens roamed the property and greatly outnumbered the humans residing in their space. The lake view was breathtaking—the jewel of the residence. Finally, one light bulb adorned the outside wooden wall of the structure, which illuminated a small space of the cement porch once nightfall came upon us.
At first, this home seemed humble and simple: basic in structure and design, no added flair or décor. I began to quickly understand that the minimal physical comforts were greatly overshadowed by the magnificent size of the family’s hearts. And it all started with a fresh, clean, grey-colored bed sheet.
“This thing is brand new”, I thought as my hand slid across the bed sheet. Knowing the two-hour journey to go into town by boat, plus the cost of fresh linen, this sheet that was given to us to sleep on told me the secrets of how well this family loves. Nor did it stop there.
Meal after meal was prepared in the kitchen by the pastor’s wife and his two lovely teenage daughters. Fried fish, red beans, and rice came on platters in large quantities for us to partake in. We came to find out that our host back in Granada had provided the family with the beans and rice, but they didn’t stop there. They took it upon themselves to add more to our meals: scrambled eggs and homemade tortilla for breakfast and fish straight from the lake that they caught themselves (which takes a day’s work to catch). Going above and beyond seemed to be this family’s motto. Their love for the Lord and immeasurable generosity radiated from their home.
Saturday night we made our way through a field, several barbed wire fences, and down a dirt path to reach a fellow church member’s home. A night of birthday celebration for sweet, two-year old Genesis brought us to the festivities. When we arrived, friends and family members were standing alongside the wall and the chairs left open. They were not for the elderly, the children, or the birthday girl and her family. The fragile, green plastic chairs, carefully placed in organized rows, were for the fourteen gringos and gringas, who they chose as the guests of honor. No matter how hard we tried to offer up the seating, we were strongly encouraged to enjoy the seat. Generosity not only exuded from the hearts of our host family, but spread like wildfire through the entirety of the island.
A meal was served at the end of the celebration. A prayer was offered up to the Lord, and Pastor Ulice’s ending words caught my attention: “Now please accept this food in celebration as our brothers and sisters in Christ! Don’t be shy!” Immediately the women came out with white ceramic plates piled high with rice, chicken, and vegetables. The plates passed by and the delicious scent tickled my nose. My eyes caught hold of a plate’s travels and noticed that the ending destination was one of my own teammates. I was floored.
Shouldn’t the birthday girl be served first?
What about this old man and his wife standing across the room?
Why us? We just got here yesterday!
I could not wrap my mind around the ways in which we were being blessed and served. My worldview and cultural perspective of what is “right”, “traditional”, and “proper etiquette” was thrown off-kilter. Their love seemed to know no bounds.
Before bedtime that evening, when we arrived back to our sleeping pads and hammocks, two extra mattresses appeared on the porch for those of us who couldn’t fit in the separate bedroom. “Where did they suddenly get these extra mattresses?” I wondered.
The following morning I found my answer after peering into the second bedroom window. Not only was our entire host family squishing their family of six into one bedroom for our sake, but now the mattress that belonged on the wooden frame was absent. This struck me in a way that I wasn’t prepared for. Tears welled up in my eyes.
You see, the Lord had been bringing to mind over and over my test results from our Costa Rican host. Hannah had given us a personality and spiritual gifts test. My lowest score: generosity.
At first, I didn’t understand it. I refused to believe it. I love giving people gifts. I love serving others and welcoming people into my home. To me, that part was complete nonsense. I’m a generous person—I think.
What I truly am is a person who is “generous” when it is convenient for me and within limits that I can control. I do not like to share my things if I think they may get ruined, unorganized, or not returned. I often give and hope—or if I’m being super honest, expect—to receive some kind of recognition and gratitude in return. I also rarely give if it will disrupt my own person comfort.
This is the ugly truth. I am not “being too hard on myself” or “beating myself up”. I am recognizing an area in which I am weak and have trouble surrendering to the Lord. If placed myself in this family’s shoes and I would think, “If we give them our mattress, where are we going to sleep?”
I’m learning that this is an area in which God is going to stretch and challenge me. He is asking me to trust Him to be the Provider. He wants me to know that all things are His and I am mere steward of them. I want to be a better steward of my God-given things—my possessions, my finances, my time, and my love. I want to be a person who glorifies the Father through great generosity. I want it to radiate from me the way I saw it glow from the people Zapatera Island.
“And I am praying that you will put into action the generosity that comes from your faith as you understand and experience all the good things we have in Christ Jesus.”
Philemon 1:6
