The small yes....


A year ago our friend (Mr. Buzbee) prophesied over us that he could see us walking on dusty and sandy roads. He also said that we should walk and dance into what the Lord was telling us to do.  As Dustin and I talked later, we both agreed that we felt that place was Nicaragua.  When we arrived in Salinas, we found those dusty roads.  The romance of moving somewhere tropical has worn off.  Our feet our black and I have outlawed everyone from climbing onto my bed unless they first wash their feet.  Yet the vision of what the Lord has asked us to dance into is growing day by day.


We continue to feel that we are living right where we are supposed to be.  Opportunities to love our neighbors surface every day.  We have been traveling to other surrounding beach towns to look at properties and get a better idea of fair property prices in Nicaragua.  Each time we return to Salinas Grandes, we love the way that the town is filled with normal Nicaraguan people and not just foreigners living on the beach.  We want to be among the people so we can listen and perceive the real needs and not just rush in to meet what we assume the problems might be.  One need we continue to see is water because the city water does not reach the end of our road in the summer.  Also there is a need for students to have access to computers and a library to research projects for school.  There is no place in our town for students to complete these projects in high school.  High school students here have so many obstacles to overcome.  They face a 12 km dirt road to get to school and have to find ways to complete assignments without proper resources.  

I share each of these needs because I know they will resonate with someone reading this email.  We are not called to do everything but I believe our hearts are stirred at times by needs we were created to fill.  The small yes.  Yes, I could give a few dollars to that.  Yes, my family could come down and spend a week building shelves for a library.  Yes, I could stockpile some Spanish books and send them down with your family when they come to visit.  Yes, I have an extra laptop I would like to donate.  Drops in the bucket that begin to fill up the well.  Yes, I want to be water for the thirsty.  Yes, I want to be light in the darkness.  Yes, I want to fight for justice for kids born into a hopeless situation.  Purveyors of hope.  Who knows what your yes could declare in the Kingdom of God?  Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. 


So...let my tell you about my Thursday


One thing I am learning is there is no typical day in Nicaragua.  I keep waiting for our routine to settle and when I say that to other people living here they just smile or stifle a laugh.  Expect the unexpected.  Hold your plans loosely in your hands for the day and say a prayer to be love however it is needed.

So this Thursday I woke up, made banana muffins and iced coffee. Dustin and Nolan head off to work with a recycling/educational project with our friend Joe in the community.  I help everyone begin their work for the day, which includes more than just my kids going on schoolwork.  I have one conversation with the Spanish teacher about what I would like the kids to learn.   Then I talk with a woman who needs to borrow some money for a medical procedure about what she could clean around the house to repay us.  As soon as I sit down to call my mom and hear how my grandma’s funeral went, our neighbors come to the door.  Martin has a bloody head and needs to go to the clinic 5km away.  The Spanish teacher assures me she will watch the kids and so Martin and I head to the clinic.  There is a clinic open three days a week for a few hours and Martin just happens to be hurt at the “right” time so we are able to avoid going to the hospital in Leon. 

However, the clinic doesn’t have any stitches so we go from pulperia (tiny shops in peoples' homes) to pulperia asking if anyone has stitches.  We eventually find some, and head back to get stitched up.  At the clinic, there is a long line of mamas with new babies.  I love to hear them talk and they seem in good spirits despite the lack of sleep and the fact that they walked to the clinic. Many of them just days or weeks after a caesarean birth.  We give rides home as we leave the clinic three hours later.  After a quick lunch of sopa de queso and guacamole with chips, I head to teach English all afternoon at La Cooperative middle school.  I walk in the door around 5:30, grab some sparkling water, and walk out to the beach where I know all the kids will be playing since its nearly sunset.  We watch the red ball drop into the ocean and feel thankful for another day.  We make some pasta and eat dinner outside where the air has finally cooled off for the day.  Evening is the time when we take a deep breath and remember why we love Nicaragua.  We end the day reading under the rancho at the beach.  The kids hang in hammocks and we take turns reading until bedtime.  So..... that was this Thursday and next Thursday will be different.  Who knows what will happen?