Category: Nicaragua

Batter Up: Béisbol with the Boys

Sometimes connections with the kids happen in unplanned and unexpected ways. Today at recess, Cassie and I were sitting on the steps talking with another staff member when I saw a group of our rather rambunctious first and second graders playing a modified version of baseball. Their equipment consisted of a green plastic Wiffle bat, one glove, and a small beat-up nerf ball.

If case you didn’t know, baseball is my favorite sport. “I’m going over there,” I told Cassie. Of course I was.

As is true with most activities in which young boys are in charge, a slightly ordered chaos reigned. They immediately turned to me to sort out the batting order. “Profe! Profe!” they yelled. (That’s short for our title of “profesora”.)

I managed to get them into something of a line up – Yaniel, Jesser, Max, Mateo, Nimrod, Jeffry, Joshua, Steven. Then I asked if I could have a turn. They looked a little unsure at first, but then the grins appeared. I don’t think the teachers come out to play baseball much.

The first pitch was well outside and high, but I swung wildly anyway, much to to the amusement of the boys. “Strike!” they shouted gleefully. I made solid contact on the second pitch and ran to the first base tree , then raced around in an ovally diamond shape back to the area that seemed to be “home”. The boys all cheered and gave me high fives.

The game continued, and  I enjoyed watching them try to count balls and strikes and call Yaniel back because he hit the ball foul. (Who knew where the foul line was? Not me!) They cheered loudly each time contact was made, and other than disputes about who was up next, there was a general good-natured feel to the thing. Pretty much everyone scored. It was the whole point. Hit the ball. Run home. No one gets out.

Recess continued, and I went back and sat on the steps. Jesser followed me over and Cassie asked him about the baseball game. He looked over with a little smile and said, “She hit a home run.”

We all did. And we sure had fun.

Poor and Needy

When we believers are in the center of God’s will, and we are doing what He wants us to do, things don’t always go smoothly. Sometimes (often?) we are faced with circumstances in which we are clueless. We don’t know what’s going on and we don’t know what to do.

Here in Nicaragua, I find myself in this situation frequently. The culture here has been developed over hundreds of years. I dropped in three weeks ago. Situations which were clear and easily dealt with at home suddenly…aren’t. Combine that with my inability to understand what anyone is saying, including my at times unruly students, and it leads to a general feeling of inadequacy.

I love David’s words in Psalm 40 and 70 (both of which “happened” to be in my scheduled Bible reading yesterday).

Psalm 40:17 “But I am poor and needy; Yet the LORD thinks upon me. You are my help and my deliverer; Do not delay, O my God.”

Psalm 70:5 “But I am poor and needy; Make haste to me, O God! You are my help and my deliverer; O LORD, do not delay.”

I love the fact that the great King of the Universe thinks upon me. It is intensely humbling and intensely comforting. He sees, He knows, He intervenes. And even though it isn’t enjoyable, it’s a good thing to recognize just how poor and needy we are, because we know that the LORD is our faithful Deliverer.

Peanut Butter, Cheese, and Other Luxuries

In the States, I took my luxuries for granted. When my favorite dark chocolate and really good coffee were always accessible, I lost my gratitude for them. The same goes for peanut butter, cheese, and hot showers.

Now, we take cold showers. I’m grateful for the refreshment they bring on hot afternoons. I’m grateful to have a shower at all!

Now, we savor each sip of the coffee we brought from the States during our afternoon coffee break.

Now, when a grocery trip Managua yields a jar of crunchy peanut butter, you would think it’s Christmas.

Now, an 8 oz. block of cheddar cheese is a score at the local supermarket. It’s not always in stock.

Now, I slowly enjoy my little ration of dark chocolate. With 30 squares in each bar, it’ll last a month.

We don’t feel deprived because we aren’t deprived. Each of these little things, and so many others, remind us that we are blessed above and beyond our necessities. Sometimes it takes a little scarcity for the Lord to remind us how much we really have. He certainly has loaded us up with benefits!

Psalm 68:19 “Blessed be the Lord, Who daily loads us with benefits, The God of our salvation! Selah”

A Small Little Life

For obvious reasons, my prayer life lately has revolved around the impending move down to Nicaragua. Incredibly enough, it’s the day after tomorrow. In my prayers, I usually end up in the same place, partly incredulous, partly in awe.

Why me?

I’m completely ordinary. In fact, I’m a wimp. I’m small and weak. I have little strength and stamina. I wear out easily. I don’t do well in heat.  The list could go on, but you get the point. Humanly speaking, if you were going to choose someone for this particular mission venture, it wouldn’t be me. It’s kinda ridiculous, honestly.

Yet, somehowly (as they say in Kenya), God has made it abundantly clear that it is me.

And Hudson Taylor’s assessment of himself comes to mind: “I think that God must have been looking for someone small enough and weak enough for Him to use, and that He found me.”

Amen, brother. Because in the end, it’s not about us, our qualifications, or our glaring lack thereof. We all live small little lives. But a small little willing heart is a gracious instrument of choice in the hand of our great big God.

2 Corinthians 12:9 “And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

A New Path

Kijabe Forest

When I was a girl growing up in Kenya, I loved exploring the forest, trying to get “lost” and then finding a new route home (or creating my own). I suppose I had a touch of the pioneering spirit back then.

These days, I tend to prefer the well worn trail, the one without hidden roots, encroaching thorn bushes, or face-level spider webs that suddenly appear out of nowhere.

God has different ideas, to say the least. He’s taking me off my familiar comfortable road and setting me off on a whole new path. Unknowns abound. But I know Him, and He will be with me all through the journey. (Psalm 9:10 “And those who know Your name will put their trust in You; For You, LORD, have not forsaken those who seek You.”)

I wrote this poem (technically a sonnet) several years ago, and it seems to perfectly fit my new situation.

This Way

Joshua 3:4 “…you have not passed this way before.

Dear one, you have not passed this way before;
Lean hard upon My gracious, loving arm.
I know the path, and you can rest assured
I’ll keep you safe from every fear and harm.

Don’t try to light your own flickering beam,
Or plunge ahead into the night alone.
No good has ever come of all your schemes,
Or anything you’ve done that’s on your own.

I am the only Light you’ll ever need –
Remember that, with ev’ry twist and turn.
Then as you rest, I promise I will lead,
And teach you all the things that you must learn.

In joy and pain, you’ll ever be secure,
Although you have not passed this way before.

 

(Photo credit: The Kijabe Forest Trust)

 

 

 

Bounding Along the Path

“We begin to calculate about the sacrifices, the hindrances, and the difficulties, instead of bounding along the path, in eagerness of soul, as knowing and loving the One whose call has sounded in our ears.” – C.H. Mackintosh

My life changed on April 28th of last year. A few days earlier, my friend Cassie had texted me that she wanted to talk to me about a potential ministry opportunity. OK, I thought, probably a friend is in need, or she wants to go witnessing down by the lake or something.

Nope.

“So, do you want to move to Nicaragua with me for a year?” she asked that spring evening as we hung out in our friend Emily’s living room.

Wait, whaaaaaat? I actually started laughing. “Seriously?!!!”

Yep.

That was weird, because I really thought I understood God’s trajectory for my life. I had been receiving ministry training in my local church. I worked in the school system in Milwaukee, so I have my summers off. I had spent a wonderful 7 weeks volunteering at a mission in Alaska in 2014, and was scheduled for 9 weeks there in 2015. The combination of evangelism and interaction with people from all over the world was right up my alley. And if the Lord ever led away from that, I figured I could always spend my summers in Africa where I had (hint hint) grown up. Perfect, right?

Central America was never on my radar. I assiduously avoided Spanish in high school and college, and only dabbled in it when I switched positions to work at a school in the Hispanic area of Milwaukee. I thought it was wonderful when our church supported short term trips to El Salvador and Nicaragua, especially when Cassie got to go as a translator for the team. How nice. It just wasn’t for me.

Until April 28th, when God suddenly dropped it in my lap.

The “buts” began echoing in my head immediately.  I was in my 3rd year in my dream job, working exclusively with 3 and 4 year old kiddos. I had a wonderful church family. My roots in Milwaukee were a decade deep; I’d lived there longer than anywhere else in my life. I had summers off for ministry trips. I still had school loans. I’d just signed a new lease on my apartment. I had a car. I had stuff. I had a plan.

My plan didn’t include moving away from the comfortable life I’d carved for myself in the middle of a school year to work at an academy in a country where I had never felt an urge to visit, I didn’t speak the language, and I didn’t have the foggiest idea about the culture.

The Apostle Paul in Acts 20:24, said, “..nor do I hold my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy…” Our problem is that we don’t realize how dear we are holding our life to ourselves – at least I didn’t – until God gently pries our fingers off our comforts and our unadmitted idols and our ideas of how life should be and says, “That’s not for you anymore.”

And that’s where faith begins. No calculating. No manipulating. Just bounding along the path with all the eagerness we can muster, for the Master Maker of Paths is also our wise, tender-hearted, infinitely trustworthy Father.

Throughout the next several days and weeks, Cassie and I talked, prayed, and sought counsel. The Lord began to open door after door for this unexpected new path He has set us on. He’s worked in amazing ways, large and small, to bring us to the point where we are less than 3 weeks away from flying to Managua. It’s been quite the ride already; I can’t imagine what it will be like when we actually get there.

But we know that He will be there. And isn’t that all that really matters?