March 17, 2017
Today feels like a very Nica day. I am not sure how to qualify that other than it is not my usual day: days revolving around business and helping people settle in. It was more of a walk down memory lane, which comes with mixed memories and experiences.
For the second time in two months, we have meandered through the streets of Granada looking at our old houses and connecting with people from the past- the first time was last month with my parents and today was with Stephen’s parents.
The first stop, and the first place we lived, was “Emma’s cottage”- with the floor that crushed with bugs and the tin roof that radiated heat by 7 in the morning.
The second stop was out of order, but it was our house in the country (the third place we lived) with friendly, helpful Nicaraguan neighbors, memories of the flood that ran through the property on the infamous May 15- the assigned first day of the rainy season, and the cow who would watch me when I did the dishes.
The last place was in town, but was really the second place that we lived. We had a pool in the interior of the house, many people stopping at the door for anything we would hand out, and the opportunity to meet other missionaries in the city of Granada.
The feelings and memories in me of Granada are connected with struggle- a broken down car, more extremes of poverty than we typically see here in Masatepe, the pain of purposelessness, and the physical pain of boils, heat and sickness. It was a time of shaking my identity to the core, and feeling like I might not survive or want to survive that shaking.
This time was not without blessing, but I felt like I had to dig deep to remember the blessings of those times.
In our first house we were connected with Trinity Christian School through the intruding landlord who seemed to be aware of our every activity. Unknowingly he helped us form a friendship that is still a blessing us to this day- residency, a job teaching Bible for Stephen, and knowing some generous-hearted believers who helped in our adjustments.
Our second home was an oasis- a beautiful and comfortable place for us to transition to this very foreign land; a pool for cooling off, beautiful views, and the pampering of a housekeeper. God knew that I needed this this place!
Our third home is where Queso and Tito came from. At times I might fall into the “crazy cat lady” category, but these two beasts have been the salve and the focus I needed during much struggle and uncertainty.
As I sit here typing in the dark with the unpredictableness of our electricity this evening, I am reminded of a conversation that I had this morning. My new job is to care for and guide the team members here in Masatepe. I was talking with a new team member. As we were wrapping up, I asked if there was anything he wanted to say. He said, “Knowing that you are here makes me feel like everything is going to be all right.”
Wow! It made me cry, because I knew that all of those things that weighed heavy on my heart from Granada today are the exact things that God is redeeming in me in order to give comfort to this young man.
This spiritual transaction is a mystery to me! The yuck and the brokenness is transformed into something useful. And it is this spiritual transaction that allows me to have faith in an invisible God; one who can do good things in other difficult situations that we came upon today, but I will save those stories for another day.