As I sat in the gate at the airport I reflected back over the moments of the week. Our original intent in Nicaragua was to help with a feeding program, build some benches for the church, and work in a school. Thinking back, those definitely aren't the first things that come to mind.
I think of very first day when we met Genesis (Hen - i - see - s) and the way that she would giggle and laugh. She didn't speak any English and our Spanish was mostly pieces of broken sentences to identify colors, numbers, or body parts. She would giggle hysterically as we would try to say something in Spanish and fail miserably. She loved trying to teach us, playing the hand slap game with us, and her spirit was truly filled with joy. Later, we were setting up for a 'laser tag' game that included taping streamers to plastic chairs and she was more than happy to help reattach streamers as her classmates would rip them down.We learned how to say the word 'here' in Spanish and she humored us as we repeated it over and over to tell her where to put the tape. (and we were more than happy let her help since it included crawling or squirming through rocks and dirt)
I think of the boys I saw roaming around the village during the day, eager to get us to stop working and come play with them. I liked watching the way they chose teams, called out to each other, and got competitive in the games they were either playing or trying to learn. (Even thought I think most of the time they may have been shouting to each other to not pass the ball to the American girls) Most of all, I liked hearing them laugh. As I looked around at their living conditions and lifestyles that would be a sad picture, I saw how much joy the people brought to the situation.
I think of the eyes that I saw each day as I served food. Some of the children were not very tall, and there were many times that I could only see their eyes over the top of the dish as I spooned in whatever food had been cooked that day. They would bring black plastic bags with a dish of some sort, a cup, and usually a spoon, and we filled their dish with the food , their cup with juice, and put two gummy vitamins on top - knowing that this might be the only meal they eat until we feed them again tomorrow. I watched how the children were given two gummy vitamins and would wait until they sat down to enjoy them, and sometimes even take them home to share with someone else. Gummy anything is a common treat for American children, and it intrigued me that these children really knew how to appreciate what they were given and wait for it with patience or share it with humility.
I think of the tears I saw in Thelma's eyes after we had finished six benches (and had a seventh cut) for her by the end of our time together. It did not occur to me that she really hadn't grasped that these benches were for her and her husband's church to use during their services, and would fold into tables for the children's lunches everyday. She was overcome with joy at these beautiful benches, knowing that there would be no more using cracked, plastic chairs. The appreciative and humble spirit of the people around us made it seem only appropriate that such a beautiful bench would be in their church.
I think of the way that I heard children laugh as they sat in fellowship with each other. Prior to our trip, poverty was the commercials I've seen on TV or the pictures and statistics in my college textbooks. But I discovered quickly.. that it wasn't true. I found poverty and hunger is the face of a child who is happy and has what they need but deserves far better (as in, if they don't have it, they find a way to get along without it - think running water, electricity, or three meals a day - things most Americans wouldn't think twice about) . I don't like to use those words because they put an image in people's minds that is inaccurate - depicting sadness, loneliness, or neediness, and that isn't what I saw at all. I did not see people this week who have little, but I saw people this week who deserve much.
On our last night in Nicaragua we were discussing takeaways from the trip and their seemed to be two that stuck with everyone. One of them, Wayne mentioned on the first day, was having a spirit of excellence. He would talk (and led by example) about how the work that we do, both this week and as Christians, should be nothing less than excellent - not necessarily in look, but in heart and effort. I'm not a competitive person, so if I'm working on a project that doesn't seem to work right or I can't figure out, my tendency is to be content with what it is and not get too upset about it. But this week, working with my team taught me a lot about how important it is to do things with excellence. I can't count the number of times we couldn't figure out where certain boards went to assemble certain pieces and Heather would stick with it until she figured it out, and sometimes re-cut or re-drill pieces that were even the slightest bit out of place. In the last hour of the last day we discovered that we were missing two boards, and Connor went back out and cut two new ones so that they would be ready for Wayne once we were gone.
The other big takeaway we had during our last debrief was when Carolyn mentioned that she felt this trip was joy-filled. 'Fun' just doesn't seem to describe it. The idea of perfect joy stood out to me on the day that Connor, Natalie and I planned to play kickball with the kids at the school. We were in a 'field' right next to the school (it was only dirt and rocks, no grass) using a rubber ball that we had brought with us, and using rocks as bases. We could not communicate with the kids, but only speak the language of love - cheering when someone kicked it over the fence, laughing when the ball would hit a rock and go sideways, and encouraging even the most shy of children to take a turn kicking. After this week, it'll be a long time before I eat rice again, I'll probably always have negative memories associated with plantains and papayas, and if I don't haul wood again for awhile, that'll be okay. But I learned that it was true joy that got me through the week (directly under joy would be dramamine, gatorade, and chicken) and it was joy that kept our team united, that got our work done, and has forever changed my frame of reference when I think about God's people and what He wants for them.
Upon coming home, I knew I would struggle to go back to my normal life - knowing that I had seen all these kids who deserved so much, and I have so much. Today my mom and I went and got pedicures and all I could think of was the number of children I saw this week and how most of them didn't look like their shoes were doing any good because they were so ripped and used, and many didn't have shoes at all, their feet clearly accustomed to the rocky dirt roads. I think often (and hope this doesn't change as time wears on) about the way I can continue to incorporate this trip and what it taught me into my daily life - both to help others and keep pursuing my spirit of joy and excellence that is still lingering since we've been home.
For those who prayed for us this week, I want you to know that they were felt. There were many things I was concerned about prior to going, and even there were certainly general concerns felt by all team members (health, travel efficiency, and attitude/ability/capacity to work hard towards our goals). Reflecting back, I felt as though we had minimal problems and they were all handled with grace, teamwork, and pepto bismol.
Another big answer to prayers were Wayne and Megan - they were everything you could pray for as a host in a foreign country. They were always sure we had everything we needed, going out of their way to get us medicine, clean water, and even laundry if needed, and taking time at the end of each day to debrief with us to be sure that mentally, emotionally, and spiritually we were taken care of, not just physically. They were there for our constant, touristy questions, and allowed us to serve as eight individuals instead of just a team coming to 'get things done'. It was so rewarding and humbling to see a ministry worked out of nothing but a church made of tin, two fire stoves, and some power tools.
What truly changed for me this week was my perspective on injustice. I've always had a heart for children, and I was, quite honestly, terrified to work with children who did not have things like water, food, or clothes, because I was afraid of it breaking my heart (as prideful of a thought as that is). When I saw these people, I saw a type of community, hard work, and joy that are much harder to come by in America because of our time driven culture that has a tendency to be greedy and materialistic. I learned that God does not let his people live in or be created unequally at all, but he allows them to be created and live differently. God gives His people what they need, but allows them to lack in varying areas so that they might seek Him best.
After a trip like this I think that it is common to come home and want to give everything you had to those specific kids so they might have your clothes, your food, and your water. I think of the boy I saw this week who never had shoes, the two children who always had the same clothes on, and even the lady who checked my passport - and I am inspired by them - first to give willingly and abundantly, but also to have contently. Wayne's determination to live in a spirit of excellence led to my learning from each of the people that I worked with, as they set great examples of Christian people. I learned I wanted to host like Wayne and Megan as they went out of their way to do so much, I wanted to work as hard as Thelma as I saw her hand wash all her clothes and dishes without running water and take gentle and nurturing care of all of the children, and I wanted to adopt the spirit of gratitude and joy that each of the kids seemed to have. My world perspective changed drastically this week as I saw the lives of the people I worked with - and as I learned what it would be like to walk in their shoes. My biggest lesson from Wayne and Megan this week was understanding where God wants you to give - understanding that realistically, you cannot adopt all the children, feed them, and clothe them. Instead, I learned more about the art of using what you have to give where you can, and be content with everything else. Wayne's idea of a spirit of excellence includes not only giving to others who may be in need, but living in a way that reflects thankfulness in all situations - to truly be enriched.
