A piece of heaven

This past week, I was part of an encounter between a Canadian congregation and five Nicaraguan congregations. A group of seven people from up north visited for a week, and they spent a day with each of the pastoral couples who are part of the church friendship in León. Two of the pastoral couples have two congregations under their wing, thus the five congregations. We visited the elderly, discussed church structure and liturgy, made greeting cards, participated in a quarterly evaluation of church programs, toured a school, and got to know the different congregations. We also had an outing with the pastoral families and the group to Estelí where we enjoyed walking through the woods, a beautiful view, petting some goats, a delicious dinner, and an hour's worth of joke telling (translated by yours truly). It was a great week.

Team members in their t-shirts

To welcome the group, the churches held a combined worship service. The hosting church had made t-shirts for the seven team members and the other pastoral couples with Canadian and Nicaraguan flags on the front and a verse from Psalm 133 on the back, "How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in harmony." The hosting pastor welcomed everyone, one pastor read the Bible, another prayed for the offering, and another preached. People from the four different churches prayed and sang and worshiped God together. As I participated in a service with all my León friendship churches at once, I was overcome with emotion. All of these churches, Nicaraguan and Canadian, are important to me. The pastors are like my own pastors, and I really enjoy my meetings with them. Usually I am a go-between with the churches, but last week I didn't have to be a link because everyone was together.

Pastors across the aisle in their t-shirts

As we sang together, I was filled with joy and wonder for the body of Christ. Worshiping among the different congregations, I realized that I was experiencing heaven, like when it says in Revelation 7:9 "After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb." This past week with the team and the León pastors was a taste of heaven. Different nations and languages, adoring God together through worship, times of fun, and service to others. These moments are the reason that I serve as the coordinator of church friendships in Nicaragua. I love getting to know the churches, praying with the pastors, and translating their messages to and from each other year round, but these team visits are the high points (although also the most exhausting times) of these friendships. They make me see heaven.

After the combined service, we took handprints to send back to Canada

I hope that wherever you are, whatever you are doing, you get to witness glimpses of heaven this week too.

The Crazy Normality

Every now and again, I stop and think, "I live in a tropical, tourist destination!" It rocks, really. Sometimes I start smiling walking down the street just because I love life here. The white-domed cathedral, the volcano, the beach, the colors, the smells, the sounds. Life in Nicaragua is great. Granted, I do the same thing when walking in Burns Harbor, Indiana or Sioux Center, Iowa. It's a gift to love the place you are.

However, life in Nicaragua is also normal. It's normal life for me to speak in Spanish, to run to the corner store for milk in the morning, to have to try to figure out what to do about a leaking faucet and a smoking outlet (yes, all real-life situations for me today). I recently wrote in a newsletter that August and September are going to be pretty routine for me. Apparently the normal routine means that I spend 3 days of my week in Managua, one in Chinandega, and the other 3 in León trying to rest while balancing the work that needs to get done. Sometimes it feels a little out of control. Nonetheless, I am enjoying the pastoral visits, and I like getting reports done (I don't like actually writing them).

That said, there are other CRAZY parts of my life that I can't seem to get over when I pause to think about them. Let me give you an example of things today that struck me.
1) I went to be the judge of a singing contest with English students at a high school. I met the English teacher two weeks ago at another English singing contest, and she asked me to help out. I figure it's my duty as a native English speaker, and so I agreed even though I don't have any connections to this school. There I am, white skin, honey-colored hair, blue eyes, center of the attention of a lot of high school students when I walk in. I don't know if I'll ever get used to being so remarkable here. It feels very strange to me, the way people react to me.

2) After finishing at the school, I went to visit a pastoral couple. This couple is one that I have grown close to, but I felt like it had been a long time since we had a heart-to-heart, so I paid a visit to see how they are really doing. The pastor had to go visit another church, but his wife and I shared lunch together and talked about life. It amazes me that these heroes of the faith, dedicated servants of God, open up to me about their lives and let me be a pastor to them in some ways. It's a completely normal part of my job, and yet it moves me to tears that I have the privilege of walking alongside these incredible ministers in the faith.

3) On the bus on my way home, we got pulled over. These stops have been becoming routine. In some places they check documents, and at this particular stop, they have asked young men to show their bags, and the officers check their seats. There was a young man seated next to me, and they asked him to get off and show them his bags. As they started going through his backpack and lunch on the bench, another officer mounted the bus and started poking the seat the young man had been in. Then he sat down next to me, and his supervisor said, "There, the bag by your leg!" And they said they found marijuana! But they didn't make anyone else get off, and after a few minutes, the driver closed the doors to continue on our way. No questions asked. The young man stayed behind, and I have no idea what happened to him.

This is normal life for me these days. It all seems very crazy. Regardless, I am thankful. God is good, and he takes care of me no matter what.

Chasing the Sunset

My heart feels full lately. Lots of new experiences, fulfilling events that fill me with wonder and delight at God's goodness and faithfulness in my life and the lives of people around me. I have seen prayers answered, lavish generosity poured out, faith like a child's, healing granted, laughter and love and tears. All of these things dance in my head, and I have been looking for how to express them in blog-sized pieces.

But tonight, the other side of things came into play. The side where I feel like an outsider, wondering how long I have to be here before people stop needing to explain things to me. Wishing I could sit on the porch with a drink and the company of my parents after a long day of work. Chasing the sunset.

I live in the city of León. While it's a beautiful city, it has a lot of tall buildings. As I was coming home in the late afternoon light, reflecting on the conversation I had just had with several pastoral couples in Chinandega, the sky was alight with color and the breeze was cool. I had to see the sunset. I put down my bag and took off on my bicycle, headed west.

My eyes feasted on the blazing orange in the clouds above me. Hardly paying attention to the other things around me, I focused on the heavens and tried to find higher ground so I could see above the buildings. To no avail. The sun set without me. The sky's fire went out. Disappointed, feeling like I should head home so I could go to church, I turned around.

The view to the east was powerful too, though. Dark storm clouds piled high (Lord, please send us rain. We are in a drought and need it badly), the fading light highlighting just enough to see their majesty.

Sometimes, we are looking so hard for something, we miss the other views around us. I'm not saying that those moments where we long for "home," for going back to the way things were, for seeing the beauty of the sun hit the horizon, they won't necessarily go away ever. And it's okay to grieve what once was. But there are new views, new loves, new homes. May we ever be pilgrims with broken hearts as we live on earth, chasing after the Son because only He can truly show us glory.

Can I get a Witness?

Testimonies are a big deal. They are the way people hear about what God is doing in the world, and in our own lives. Many Nicaraguan churches take testimony so seriously that they provide open mic times in the majority of their services so that people can talk about what God has done in their lives. People share stories of healing, economic provision, conversion, or thanksgiving for their blessings most of the time. These opportunities for sharing about what God has done are important.

However, sometimes we don't have a testimony that seems right to share with everyone. Not everyone has a conversion story. Not everyone has been healed. Not everyone has had a child or gotten a job or aced a test. What do we do in those times? Those moments when we are still in the midst of the storm, still in the tribulation, still searching for the answer? The church often doesn't give space for those who are wrestling with questions. We don't want to hear about your struggle - we want victory! We don't want to listen to your pain - we want healing! We believe in a God who answers prayer, after all.

True, but sometimes the answer to our prayer is "no" or "wait." And what is our role in those moments?

The way I read the Bible, a Christian's primary calling is to be a witness. Jesus told the disciples in Acts 1:8,
 "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth."
We are not the ones who build the Kingdom of God - we simply point to it with our words and our lives. We make disciples by baptizing, by teaching, by sharing.

But I don't read anything about only sharing the good stories. I see verses in the Bible about God being strong in our weakness. I see stories where God used the last, the lost, and the least to do his work. And yes, they shared about it afterward. But maybe some of the most important testimonies we can give are the ones where we are vulnerable, where we are hurting, where we are weak - and we don't have a happy ending yet. Maybe we won't on this side of glory. But our witness to God's faithfulness in the midst of struggle and doubt and sadness is just (if not more) important as our witness to God's victory in our lives.

After all, a witness doesn't talk about themselves at all; they talk about what they have seen and experienced. If a person sees a traffic accident, no one blames the witness, thinking that they should have done something to stop the accident or that it was their fault somehow. Whether the accident victims live or die has nothing to do with the witness; they just help people know what happened. In a similar way, our testimonies help people know who God is and what He does. So why would we judge the person who has a struggle testimony yet applaud the person who shares a victory if the story is all about God either way?

We need to create spaces where we can share our stories - the good and the bad, finished and unfinished. Maybe that's an open mic in church. Maybe that's a blog. Maybe it's coffee time once a week. Maybe it's something entirely different. The important thing is to share, to talk about what God is doing, and how the moment we are in reminds us of his character - his goodness, his power, his faithfulness, his love, his grace... And let's show each other a lot of grace and compassion and encouragement in the midst of the good and the bad. God's not finished yet.

Saturdays

Today is Saturday. I don't know about you, but these days always present a challenge to me. Do I play catch-up, or do I relax? Do I go out with my friends or stay at home like a hermit? This Saturday is especially challenging because I just dropped off a friendship team from Pella, Iowa this morning, so I need a break. However, I have also been fantasizing about cleaning my house. And there are some work things that I let pile up while I was with the team. Of course, there's the ever-present list in times of boredom that runs through my head as well, with things like writing thank-you notes, catching up on blog posts, emailing friends, or turning an extra bedroom into a full-out prayer room. And of course, the siren-call of Netflix is always strong.

What to do with a whole day? Well, thus far I have watched some Netflix, cleaned half of my house, unpacked half of my stuff from the trip with the team, and made attempts at catching up with some people. Maybe by the end of the day I'll have completely finished some things... or maybe not. Since it's Saturday, I think I'm okay with just letting myself not really get anything done while still making a start on a lot of things. The added bonus is that it's a long weekend for me, so I don't have to go back to work until Wednesday. Long list, here I come.

Great Expectations

Life comes with a lot of expectations. Some of them are good, some demanding, some negative... Sometimes, expectations placed on us can be overwhelming.

I have been feeling a lot of pressure in the last few months to try to get everything done. I see that the areas in which I work (church friendships, youth program, and volunteers) are expanding, and that makes me happy because I feel like God is opening doors. However, it also overwhelms me because I don't know how to get everything done. I put a lot of pressure on myself to perform at 100% without feeling like I have a full tank. Consequently, I've been a bit sickly lately. Tired, not hungry, not sleeping. I went to the doctor, and after she saw test results, she said there's nothing medically wrong with me. So I just need to balance life a little better.

I have been putting less pressure on myself to do everything. Recognizing that my ability to function at all goes down when I am tired, I have been giving myself more permission to recover and not always be working. Sometimes this means a Netflix movie on the couch, sometimes it's shopping with a friend, sometimes it's an extra-long devotions time. Sorry to all of you who feel like I have dropped off the face of the earth. I really appreciate the notes and emails - I just haven't had the gumption to respond yet. We're working on that.

Some of the pressure in life comes from emotional transitions or big decisions, but there's also a lot going on at work. Many transitions and changes have taken place in the last six months, and the whole team at the Nehemiah Center is working very hard to adapt and perform at a higher level. Generally these changes are positive; they simply require extra effort because they are different.

The biggest change is that the Nehemiah Center is launching a training network in Managua. This past Wednesday, May 25, we hosted a vision conference with 50 pastors to introduce them to the Nehemiah Center and offer them an opportunity to walk with us for the next six months in trainings about how to be better churches. This event took a lot of work and planning, and we were all a little anxious about how it would go. We were expecting a lot from God: good attendance, high interest in further training, and a successful event. Praise Jesus, he fulfilled and surpassed expectations! We had a decent turnout from the people we invited (50 out of 65 confirmed), and over half want to participate in our next phase of training. We are all excited though a bit nervous about the extra work.

So while some expectations can stress us out or make us sick, others provide life and joy. What's the difference? I think I'm learning that when I expect great things from myself, I can rarely perform at the level I wish. Eventually I burn myself out or cause harm in some other way. However, when I expect great things from God, he comes through in big ways. With the Spirit's guidance and power, great expectations can be fulfilled even better than we imagined. To God be the glory!

Life Lessons from Mom

Today is Mother's Day in the United States. In Nicaragua we celebrate on May 30, so it feels a bit weird to be thinking about a day that everyone else is preparing for while I'm actually supposed to celebrate my mom today. :) However, in honor of the day and my mother, I wanted to share with everyone some of the things that she has taught me. 

I love my mom's laugh

Without my mom in my life, I would be a very different person. I love and value her. I trust her. I seek her insight and guidance. I argue with her. She knows me better than I know myself. So today, I reflect on what has stuck with me the most from my time with my mom.

How we feel about trying Thousand Year Old duck eggs

Your faith should affect everything you do.

From devotions in the morning to how I played soccer to weeding the garden, my mom shared with us the importance of making our faith an integral part of our lives. She shared from her own experience as an agricultural major in college and how she first began to think about doing all of life in a Christian way. She talked about her calling in construction and how building good houses is good stewardship and part of the values she has as a Christian. My mom taught me that nothing in my life is separate from my faith in Jesus Christ.

My mom has a great way of hosting people in our home... She just makes them part of our lives

Pray about everything.

Any time I approached my mom looking for advice or floating a decision, one of her first questions (which I generally dreaded) was, "Have you prayed about it?" I started shooting up prayers to God just so I could say "yes." But this emphasis on prayer has shaped who I am and how I make decisions. Pray is a real part of my life, a conversation of seeking and talking and listening - well, at least that is the ideal - and I credit my mother for a lot of that. She modeled for us real prayers at family devotions after breakfast and dinner. My mom has also encouraged my prayer life by building me up and telling me that she thinks I am a prayer warrior; I don't think I am, but her words inspire me to pray more than I do now. 

Most of what I know about cooking, I learned from my mom. It's not her fault it's not very much - I was a bad student

Anything you do is worth your best effort.

Whether she was telling me how her grandma inspected her dusting with a white glove, teaching me how to clean the toilet with a toothbrush, encouraging me in my studies at school, or exhorting me not to give up when I didn't like a job, my mom has taught me the importance of doing my best. She used to tell me that the grades didn't matter as long as I was giving it my best. I learned from my mom some of my perfectionism, but also that serving as unto the Lord means giving my best effort in whatever I do (because, see the first thing on the list).

We may not always be photogenic, but we like each other a lot

You are a beautiful child of God.

I belong to God, my mother has always told me. She was not like other mothers in many ways; I knew she loved me even though she wasn't at all of my games or didn't pack my lunches in the morning. I value the independence she instilled in me. When people ask how my parents feel about me living in Nicaragua, I can truthfully tell them that my parents are happy because they know that I'm obeying God's call in my life. They have always said that I do not belong to them, that I belong to God and he entrusted me to their care. They in turn entrust me to His. My mom has spoken words of freedom and truth into my life, reaffirming who I am in Christ when I feel broken and ugly and useless and scared. I am a beautiful child of God.

Much to her chagrin, we even dress alike sometimes

Our family rituals - like the Santa Hat and Thank You Hugs - are something my mom has given to us

Wash the dishes at night before going to bed.

Yes, my mom has shaped who I am in many ways, but as I grow older, I see more of her training and tendencies in myself. For example, when I'm away for the night, my housemates often leave the dishes until the next morning. It's part of my nightly ritual to wash the dishes so I can wake up to clean counters (plus, it cuts down on the risk of mice and rats entering in the night to lick the plates clean). There are other practical habits I've learned from my mom. Things like waiting for others to be served before eating, using special dishes for special occasions, wanting the house to be clean when guests come over. These and many others are habits and lessons I have learned from my mom.

My mom has always stressed harmony in our home. My brother and I are really glad for that the older we get

Thank you, Mom, for being such an important part of my life. Thank you for being someone who continues to change and learn and grow. Thank you for showing me more of God. Thank you for passing down wisdom and strength and truth. Thank you, Mom, for being my mother. Happy Mother's Day.

Home Service in Numbers

As some of you may know, I just spent the last five weeks in North America visiting churches and individuals as well as celebrating some milestones with friends, such as Guissell's first driving lesson, and Abbie's wedding. For those of you who like numbers, here's a special summary for you:

3568

the number of miles on the rental car I drove

36

the number of days I was gone from Nicaragua

30

the number (approximately) of personal visits made

12

the number of distinct, prepared presentations I made

10

the number of group engagements I had

8

the number of states or provinces I drove through

7

the number of churches I visited

6

the longest number of consecutive nights I stayed at one place

5 

the number of church services I simply attended

4

the number of family gatherings I attended

3

the number of my immediate family members with me Easter weekend (all of them, in case you didn't know :D)

2

the number of classrooms I visited

1

the number of weddings I was in

Can you see why I'm tired? :)

All in all, it was a great visit, and I thank God for it. I thank God for you and all of my supporters. Thanks to the people who worry about me, who pray for me, who email me, who give me many things, and who are part of my life. To God be the glory in what we do, whether in North America, Nicaragua, or somewhere else.

Holy Week

Easter has been my favorite holiday for a long time. I love the music, the traditions, the season, the meaning. You can't leave out any part of Jesus' birth, life, death, resurrection, or ascension, but Easter has been special. It has always symbolized new beginnings for me as spring comes. I enjoy the special liturgy and practices of the week: the sunrise services, the church breakfasts, the brass band.

However, I've been disappointed with my Easter experiences over the past few years. It's not the same in Central America. There's a lot of pomp and ritual in the Catholic tradition here, but I don't know what it means. The Protestant churches don't necessarily mention Lent, Good Friday, or Easter - let alone celebrate them in a way that is meaningful for me. Two years ago, I felt let down by my Easter experience in Nicaragua though I appreciated the sawdust carpets in León. Last year, I went to Guatemala and celebrated a sunrise service with foreigners and Guatemalans together. It was a powerful liturgy, and I was glad to be there, but it wasn't home. This year, I was with my family for Easter weekend. 

Full of anticipation ahead of time, I thought the season would feel very special. But I arrived at my parents' house on Maundy Thursday after visiting churches and supporters all week, and Friday we spent the day in Chicago with cousins. On Good Friday evening as I walked into church I felt off. The day had been so normal, so full. I hadn't even meditated on the sacrifice of Jesus, and I was tired and full of worry and longing. Holy Saturday was filled with family time and cleaning house and getting things ready for a family gathering on Easter Sunday. My hopes were pinned on Sunday. We drove the hour south to the church I grew up in, and I was pleased to see the extra chairs up front for the brass band. The choir sang, the service had all my favorite Easter songs, and the message talked about resurrection from the dead. But there was still something missing. I felt like a stranger in my own home environment. 

Don't get me wrong. My Easter experience this year (and in past years, actually) has been good. But I have felt like something is missing, like it needs to be a more momentous occasion. And while I'm pondering this, I begin to feel the Holy Spirit nudging me, asking me if that's really what it's about. I live in the fullness of the death and resurrection of Jesus now. I should be remembering and celebrating this all year round.

More than that, isn't it exactly like Jesus to come in the normalcy of life? It was a normal, busy Passover when Jesus died and rose again. The Gospels say the religious leaders were focused on the celebrations and rituals that were coming. They altered several plans (not going into Pilate's house, taking the criminals off the cross early) because of the Passover Sabbath. The women couldn't dress Jesus' body because it was the Sabbath. In the midst of the celebration, relatively few people were focused on Jesus, his death, or his resurrection. 

Yet here he is, breaking into our everyday lives, proclaiming healing, forgiveness, grace, peace, and love. 

I'm thinking that in the midst of my longing for more ritual, for more quiet moments, for more earth-shattering moments, Jesus comes anyway. I can't always clear a weekend just so I feel like I'm properly celebrating it, but I think I need to learn to celebrate Him despite that fact. He comes in the midst of preparations for other things. Maybe it doesn't feel completely special and different, but he still asks me to look at him, to touch his side, to proclaim his good news. He is not here among the dead; he is risen.

Group Work

When I was younger, I hated group work. The dread of working with other people, compromising on decisions, waiting for them to finish their part... it was all pretty awful. I don't mind working with other people if I've already worked through it myself. For example, I can study for a test with a group if I've already studied on my own. But when the teacher tosses you together and tells you to accomplish something, usually with the idea that it would be easier to share the load, I wished I could have just done it all by myself.

Nicaragua is a very collaborative culture. People don't shut themselves in their room to study in the quiet; rather, they sit in the living room with the TV blaring and their family talking. Offices at the Nehemiah Center are shared, and people are free to walk in and out, talking to whomever they please. It's actually quite rude to walk into a shared office and not greet everyone present. This culture stereotypically thrives on collective efforts and group activities.

Needless to say, I've been adjusting. I'm thankful for my training at CanIL, the grad program that prepared my classmates and I for Bible translation and overseas ministry. We were constantly reminded that the world of missions is one of shared projects. No more lone wolves. People need to work together, share their findings, divide and conquer. Although I still wasn't thrilled with working in groups, by the time I went to grad school, I was willing to give it a good effort. I didn't even do everything by myself ahead of time.

Since coming to Nicaragua, I have become part of the Ezra team at the Nehemiah Center. We have group meetings once a month, and we often have shared projects. When planning for team visits, I often share the workload with others. Though I often feel like the process is slower and clunkier when working in a group, I think the benefits outweigh my impatience. We all agree, building consensus and teamwork. We solve problems together so not all of the burden falls on one person's shoulders. We divide the teaching time so not just one person has to prepare and talk during a session.

Lately, I have been especially thankful for the collaboration at the Nehemiah Center. In the past, I have been the only one in charge of certain things, and it is a lonely, stressful position. Right now, I have people helping me in almost all the major areas of my work, and I feel much more supported. Things do not all rest on my shoulders. I can ask other people what we should do, and I'm not the only one who needs to talk responsibility. Maybe group work isn't so bad. Maybe that's what the "body of Christ" and "family of God" that the Bible refers to is all about.

here

This Christmas, I was gifted a trip to Texas so I could spend the holidays with my family. My brother lives and works in Waco, and my parents drove down here so we could be together and see what his life is like. I actually decided to take this time as a vacation (like many of my coworkers at the Nehemiah Center) and just focus on time with family and recharging. 

Part of me has been struggling with what seems like too many trips in one year, but then I have reminded myself of some things, such as the importance of holidays with family in North American and Nicaraguan culture, and that this trip was a gift to be celebrated. Being here with my family is not something I should feel guilty about, but grateful for. Being present with them reminds me of what God did for us...

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God... And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

Jesus moved far away from home. He left heaven and became part of the earth. He was fully present in a particular time and place to people who needed him. Sometimes those people were his family members. Sometimes those people were the sick and crazed. Sometimes those people were hungry and tired. Sometimes it was crowds, and sometimes it was just one person. The point is, Jesus was present to the people he was with. He came to be with us.

Some people do not enjoy the holidays. It reminds them of what they are missing. Holidays are a time of nostalgia and melancholy and pain and loneliness for some. Or it just means nothing to others. Not everyone gets excited about Christmas or New Years.

Nevertheless, Jesus came to be with us. And at Christmas we celebrate the event in history that means we are never alone, and we can always have a new start. This year, that is what I'm celebrating. I have the tangible reminders of family and friends, but I have the more important hope and assurance that Christmas and New Years bring... Jesus is here, God with us.