Tuesday brought an incredible treat for the Mission
Team. After devotion, we boarded a boat –
along with everything needed for our mobile clinic – and LITERALLY journeyed to
the other side of the lake. It brought
breathtaking views and was just a surreal experience given all the poverty we’ve
been exposed to this week.
I don’t mean to over-spiritualize it, but I found it
impossible not to think of the places in scripture where Jesus and His
disciples got in a boat and crossed to the other side of the lake. I sat on the roof of the boat, with the wind
in my face trying to imagine what it would have been like to be on a boat with JESUS. Did He and the disciples laugh a lot the way
our team does when we travel? How did
they decompress after a particularly emotional day? What would it have been like to be IN the
boat when Jesus sat up and commanded the wind and the waves to “BE STILL”?
The thing I love most about mission trips is that the
Bible seems to come to LIFE before my very eyes. I was soon to experience another example of
that in the clinics.
When we arrived, there was a sense that this clinic would
not be like the others. I don’t know how
to describe it really. The village was
just “rougher” – there was a tangible sense that light was not present. Despite the fact that the landscape of the
village was beautiful nestled by the lake, the air had an oppressed feel to
it. The children appeared poorer. I watched the children brutalize each other…
I don’t mean just children at play with a little rough-housing. I watched older children kick younger ones
while they were on the ground. It was
pitiful. The workers in the Children’s
Program drew the hardest duty during Clinic Three.
But they were amazing.
It’s a beautiful thing to watch light enter a dark place. Somehow by God’s grace, organized games
actually occurred. Hugs were given out
in abundance, and smiles were given freely.
Back in the counseling stations I had two memorable
experiences. We were set up in an actual
school, rather than the village church for this clinic. Both my highlights of the day were
teachers. The first was a lady named Lillianna. Pay careful attention to her name. She was a first grade teacher at the village
school. She had a gentle smile and teddy
bear earrings in her ears. Quintessential
first grade teacher, a beautiful lady, and as lost as she could be. But God provided the right conversation for
us to begin. I told Lillianna how much
my own first grade teacher had meant to me personally, over 40 years ago. You see, my mother died of cancer in November of my first grade year in school. My teacher, Mrs. Housend, was amazing. She went so far above and beyond the call of
duty for me that year – I never went more than an hour without a hug from
her. If my pigtails weren’t straight
when I arrived at school, she fixed ‘em for me.
Mrs. Housend’s first name? Lillie
Ann. How incredibly COOL is
that? God speaks to us in ways we can
understand. He basically sent me a
billboard in the counseling station that day.
By the time I had finished my story, Lillianna was at ease with me. We then entered a conversation about the
gospel very naturally. The Spirit moved
in those moments and Lillianna is a new sister of mine in Christ. Praise be to God!
The second highlight of the day was with a male
Kindergarten teacher named Juan.
Remember how I told you that the Bible seems to come to life for me in
Guatemala? Juan knew quite a bit about
God. He credited Him as the Creator and
the Author of Life. Juan was a praying
man, but he did not know Jesus. As God
would have it, Juan was bilingual. Not
only did he speak the native Mayan language of the village, he was also fluent
in Spanish. THIS fact enabled me to put
a Spanish New Testament in his hands. We
opened our bibles together to the book of Romans, and God allowed me to escort
Juan down the Roman Road. I’m sure you
are all familiar with it, so I won’t repeat it here. But those six verses of scripture, scattered
throughout the book of Romans, opened Juan’s heart to the gospel. He enthusiastically accepted Christ as his
Savior. As we finished praying, Juan
said, “Thank you for coming to our village.
I have never had a bible. And
today I learned something new and exciting.”
- My mind went to the place in scripture where Priscilla and Aquila sat
Apollos down and explained the WHOLE gospel message to him. Before that, Apollos’ knowledge of God was
GOOD, but incomplete. (It’s in Acts 18
if you’d like to read the story for yourself.)
As Juan departed, I put a bookmark in his new bible at
the book of John. I told him that God had
written a letter in the bible just for him, and he should start his reading
THERE. He smiled a big Kindergarten
Teacher smile as he walked away, his new bible clutched to his chest.
God is Great. The
village school now has at least two lights shining in its midst. We boarded our boat physically weary, but uplifted by all that God had done in the village that day.
