The Painted Pinkie

I'm not very good about caring for my fingernails. Even after I managed to quite biting my nails in eighth grade, I never made a priority to take care of them. I periodically am inspired to throw on a coat of cheap polish here and there, but I've never been one to keep up with overgrown cuticles, less a few trips to the salon for prom and weddings. I've also noticed that guitar-playing isn't so great for the maintenance of freshly manicured nails.

On mission trips, a fun way to engage with kids and other women is to offer to paint their nails. It's a wordless way of saying, "It doesn't matter how dirty you are, I still think you're beautiful and worthy, and I want to serve you." It's almost akin to modern-day feet washing. Last week in Nicaragua, my team and I were planning to paint our friend Nubia's nails for her when Humberto joined the conversation. He proudly showed us his chipped coat of paint on his fifth finger. "It's for good luck and happiness," he said, adding that he'd had a colorful pinkie for 5 months. We laughed and added a fresh layer of blue polish over the green he had. Ervin thought it was cool too, so we painted his nail as well.

In the states, I'd seen quite a few people keep an accent color on a single finger, but never thought much of it. I always figured it was just a trend (it was) and never felt compelled to do it myself. But yesterday when I was finally scraping the dirt and sand out from under my nails, reflecting on the mission work that had turned them brittle and yellow, I remembered Humberto's painted pinkie. It was his own special form of meditation every day, reminding himself to think positively and to look for luck. It's an interesting concept, but not a new one. Tattoos, jewelry and even clothing can all be similar symbols, reminding us of something important. I don't wear a wedding ring, but I have bracelets that remind me to keep my focus on God, such as the one in the following picture with Jeremiah 29:11 inscribed in it. 

After my conversation with Alberto last Tuesday, my teammates and I started another discussion about tattoos. Kyla mentioned that someone she looks up to a lot draws an X on his wrist every day to remind himself to "seek first the kingdom." We noted that the daily action of drawing the X was a unique and meaningful alternative to getting a tattoo, because it requires intentionality. Tattoos are maybe less effective at reminding the wearer of the cause because it's so easy to get used to them, and they almost don't even phase us after a while. My tattoo is like that sometimes, especially because it's in such an inconspicuous location. 

So, yesterday after cleaning and clipping my nails, I decided to follow Humberto's example and painted my pinkie a different color than the rest of my fingers. My purpose wasn't for luck or happiness, but rather to remember the important lessons that God taught me while in Nicaragua, some of which I haven't even realized yet. These next couple weeks will be a roller coaster of emotions, as I know I will be going through periods of both joyful remembrance as well as brokenhearted-ness, and God will be instructing and shaping me as I reflect. My hope is that the accent on my pinkie will remind me to be praying for my brothers and sisters in Nicaragua, my teammates in the US, and for the strength to submit my life to the Lord. As it chips, I'll add a fresh coat, being intentional about this lifelong journey as a missionary both here at home as well as abroad.

What I Learned: the overarching theme of my week in Nicaragua (2016)

I'm back. Home. We did it. We built a house. It feels pretty good. 

Yet, somehow, all I can think about is the people. My teammates. My workmates. The Fuller Center Crew. Cristina's family. Jesus. 

Our first day in Las Penitas, before we started working. 

Coming into this trip, I had a lot of fear. It was strange and unprecedented. Unexpected. Anxiety comes from the weirdest places, and it kept me awake all night before we left for Nicaragua. Why? I am almost ashamed to admit that I was scared of the people. I was scared of traveling with a group of people I didn't know. What will they think of me? I was scared to meet the family we would be building for. How will we communicate? I was scared to work in Nicaragua. What is the perception of "white people" in Las Penitas? The Holy Spirit brought 2 Timothy 1:7 to my mind that night at 3:30 am: "But God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind." During this trip, the truth of the Lord broke my chains and left me empty of my defenses, then covered me with grace and strength, building relationships where walls once stood. He conquered my fearful spirit by being faithful in His promises. I'm walking away from a week in one of the poorest places in the world, feeling like the richest girl alive because I have had the opportunity to serve a loving, just and merciful God who died for me, who renews my strength day by day, and who is continually shaping me into the woman He designed. He wrote me into His story, and it is such a blessing. 

This picture speaks the thousands of words that I can't. It shows the love among us that turned strangers into family. I am awed by the humble and hardworking spirit of our trip leader, Hailey D; Kyla's maturity and commitment to the Lord; the wise stewarding of gifts by Curt along with his fearlessness; Nicole's gentleness, complemented by her unrelenting pursuit of God's purposes in any and every situation; Halie B's mothering instinct, incessant preoccupation with the broken, and desire to proclaim God's redeeming power. I laughed with 'Berto and Benito about my broken Spanish language skills and marveled after their perseverance. Santos patiently helped us with our translations, led us throughout the building process, and always greeted us with a smile. Danilo organized everything we could have needed or wanted; Nubia selflessly washed our dirty, ragged clothing after long, sweaty days in the sun; Ervin and his cousin Norman laughed with us and showed us what it means to sacrifice leisure for the benefit of others. I am so grateful for the group of people in the picture above. It was an honor to serve God with them, and we now share a special connection and the unique commonality of having labored together for our Lord: a fruit that will keep on giving. 

Overall, I experienced God in a new way on this trip through relationality. In the past, I've had discipleship/mentoring relationships, but there is something different about altogether giving of ourselves as a group. We were united as a body this week by our shared love for God and the progression of our shared experiences. Each one of us came from a different background and most of us are now at home in Christ's church, though we are still waiting on God's intervention for a few. But nonetheless, a new meaning was given to Jesus's proclamation that the poor are blessed, and that they are our brothers and sisters. We all are God's beloved, and it's so beautiful to choose to allow grace to reign despite our own inadequacies, living in the freedom of Christ. The church is the bride of Jesus, and He is our leader, our role model and our savior. He is what gives us unity, and it is incredible to deliberately leave the comfortable Christian bubble to be found among the lost. I can't wait to see God continue to work in and through this amazing group of people, and I'm so grateful to have had the opportunity to know them for eternity. 

Breaking bread. It's the best!

Done

It's hard to believe that the trip is over, the work is done, and that we will be coming home tomorrow. The past few days were a whirlwind as we jumped into building and fell into a routine. The first few days seemed to take three times as long whereas yesterday and today flew by. I can't believe that what was once a parcel of dry dirt is now a home, brick and mortar, two windows and two doors. It's an amazing feeling of accomplishment to look at the house and know that we built it, but even more joyful to see Cristina, who now has a home of her very own. 

This is a picture of the house in progress (yesterday). Today it has four walls and a roof. When we left the worksite, half of the concrete floor was left to be poured but it was otherwise complete, porch and all. 

It's amazing to see how God used the six of us in so many different ways. My team members are giving, selfless, encouraging and inspirational workers who labor after the Lord's purposes. Even when we were tired, dirty and drained of all we had to offer, there was hardly any complaining. God showed me His glory through these humble women and men, and I have been stretched and strengthened likewise. It is such an amazing answer to prayer.

Yesterday afternoon my teammates and I were praying for opportunities to share our faith with the people we were with. This was a huge request, given the massive language barriers between us. Yet in broken Spanish, we learned that Alberto met Jesus while imprisoned in America for a crime he didn't commit, Nubia and her family are Christ followers who wake up daily with a song on their lips, and we were able to share our love and joy with and without words. I also had the opportunity to talk with Benito about his spiritual life, which is pretty limited. Like me, He went to a Catholic church occasionally as a child but never learned anything worthwhile or felt connected. We both ultimately gave up on God after experiencing hard things in life, and struggled to reconcile painful circumstances with a supposedly all-loving God. I was then able to follow up somewhat by sharing how that perspective changed for me when I went to church with my sister as a teen, heard the gospel for the first time, and realized the true meaning of life. My prayer is that one day Benito will experience the same life change. 

Overall, I continue to be blown away by the similarities between myself and the people we are with. I am finding culture to be meaningless in a way, because we are all united in our humanity - both the good and bad aspects. This truth paints a picture of Christ as well, who experienced life as a human and knew all the temptations we face. Black, brown or white, old or young, irrespective of native language, we all are human. We are known and loved by the creator of the universe, and He is writing a story in which we all have a place. I am so thankful that Jesus knows me personally, and that I can lean into him for strength in situations he has already walked through. What a relief! 

Covered in dirt, but having fun!

I'm so excited to come home and continue to process what I've learned this past week. Before we do, though, we will have the opportunity to serve dinner tomorrow night to all the engineers and Fuller Center leaders who helped us, as well as the family we built for. Please pray for meaningful conversations, safety, and a fun night of fellowship! 

 

 

Contrast

One of the things I've noticed here that has totally floored me is the contrast in wealth within a small area. The hostel we are staying at is really nice. There is a beautiful beach just across the street and we are staying in an area where a lot of wealthy people have their beach homes. Yet, 5 minutes down the street where we have been working is completely overcome by poverty. The dirt roads are littered with trash and dead animals, the houses are built out of old pieces of metal scaffolding, and the barbed wire is pulled to the ground, causing more harm than protection. It's hard to comprehend how so much need and so much excess can exist so near to each other. 

This is a picture of the pool inside our absolutely gorgeous hotel. The paint is fresh, there are colorful hammocks hanging under grass huts, and the paved walkways are lined with palms. And yet, here is a picture of the conditions under which most of the people in the villiage live:

It's such a culture shock. I saw houses similar to that one the last time I was in Nicaragua, but I personally haven't come across them ever in America. It's like I live in a bubble, and always think of the poor as just that: "the poor." People assigned to a name. That's what they are: Poor. Okay. Move on. 

It's such an unfortunate attitude to have, because the wealth of love, soul and personality that these people have is indescribable. They are just as human and vivacious and alive as myself, just as sentimental, just as experiential, just as intellectual, comical and in need of love. Despite not being different from us, it's so easy to categorize them and ignore them. They're "the poor." Period. How can we be okay with ending the sentence there? There has to be more to the story!

During our devotional time today, we talked about Mark 1:40-44 when Jesus layed His hands on the leper to heal him.  I'd heard the story before but I'd never contemplated the fact that Jesus didn't actually need to physically use touch for healing. He can command the world with the power of His words...or probably even without them as well. Yet, He chose to use physical touch, connecting on a human level, to communicate His love. I feel like our fear of touch, of connection, of being on the same level as the poor, prevents us from reaching out to them. Whether it's a woman on a street corner, a forgotten elderly man in a nursing home, or a family in Nicaragua, they need  human relationality. Most importantly, they need the love of Jesus. I'm horrified sometimes that I can fall into such cold heartedness, especially considering all that Jesus has done for me. I'm a wretched sinner myself, still distracted by temptation, and yet Jesus continues to keep me from the death that I deserve. There are people both here in Nicaragua and home in the USA who are the walking dead. Their wages are death but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ. Keeping that good news to myself would be, and is, terribly selfish. (Romans 6:23)

 At least we're making progress. 😝

 

 

Secunda Dia

Day two. Today was our first full day of working at the site. We made a lot of progress on the house, and the walls are halfway finished! Mostly our work involves applying mortar to the underlying layer, adding another round of bricks, and then filling the holes with concrete. We also sift and shovel sand to mix into the concrete and mortar, carry the cinder blocks (bricks) and kind of gent everything organized. Rebar poles are inserted into the holes on the cinder blocks and secured with concrete. 

I don't have a picture of the progress on the house, but here's what we ate for dinner yesterday. It was some sort of cold, sour pork and fried mixed vegetables. It was delicious!!

 We took a brief siesta (break) to go play with the children at the nearby school. We painted the girls' nails and played soccer with some of the other kids. Hayden Alexander was excited that my name is kind of like his. 

We also had he opportunity to sing some songs in Spanish during our devotional, and we included one of the engineers from the work site, Danillo. It was amazing to worship in multiple languages. We prayed together in both English and Spanish, and the Holy Spirit was loud and clear among us. It was awesome. 

We had another chance to dip in the ocean before dinner. The waves are the biggest I've ever seen. The riptides are super strong as well and it's definitely humbling to feel the sand pulled out from beneath our feet. 

 After dinner today, I had a really encouraging conversation with one of the employees at the Fuller Center. He asked me how I felt about tattoos (random, I know) and was surprised to learn that I have one. In Nicaraguan culture, women who have tattoos are viewed as lazy, kind of "trashy," etc. He also brought up that in Catholicism, tattoos are frowned upon because of the verse that talks about the body being a temple, and how it should be kept clean. I was able to explain the difference between legalism and grace, and how the conditions of our hearts determine whether our behavior is sinful or not. Since tattoos aren't explicitly prohibited in the bible, it needs to be discerned on a case by case basis. My own tattoo serves as a reminder to myself to lean into God's strength during hard times. It's also a great conversation starter with others when they ask about my tattoo's meaning. Definitely not sinful. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to share and have a real life faith conversation. I'm continuing to pray that God will open the door to conversations, conquering the language barriers. 

Thank you for praying for us, we definitely have been encouraged by your support!

Day one in a different world

The first day is complete and it has been crazy and intense and naturally, nothing like I would have expected. We slept a little later because we didn't get to our hostel until 3 am. It was a crazy journey and we almost ran over some horses on the highway (seriously). Our driver was such a sweet man though, and was sure to point out landmarks like half-painted cathedrals and government buildings. 

This is Orlando, our driver. He picked us up at the airport last night and brought us to the market in Leon this morning. He is married to a woman named Christina, has four kids and, so far, four grandkids. At breakfast this morning, I told him the story about how I once accidentally called someone's child a monkey, and he thought it was hilarious. ("Que mono" literally translates to "how monkey." In Spain, it can be used to mean "how cute!" I learned the hard way that it doesn't also mean that in Nicaragua.)

Orlando is the first person I had the opportunity to get to know so far this trip. I know Spanish pretty well (conversationally) but it takes a lot of mental focus to discern what someone is saying. Orlando was patient with me and helped me refine my grammar skills, which I am really appreciative for. The language barrier is moreover difficult, but it's such a blessing to see how God united us in conversation WITHOUT words. Laughter is universal in humanity, and it's so freeing to share in wordless conversation. 

Here's a picture of our "living quarters." I feel kind of spoiled. I share a room with my friend Hailey. We have our own bathroom and are trying to remember not to flush the toilet paper down. Sorry if that's TMI, but it's also #truelyfe

This is a poorly framed picture of where we started building the house today. Currently the family consists of a married couple, the lady's parents, her aunt, her sister and her nephews. When we finish building, the married couple will be able to live in the house by themselves, which will be exciting. It's just a little square room, but they will finally have a private place to call their own, so I'm really glad for them. 

It's a strange place to be, where a one room, concrete room in a baking hot country littered with garbage, starving animals and contaminated water is a coveted gift. It's such a juxtaposition to the world I live in for the other 51 weeks of the year, where the poorest people in America are on par with some of the richest here in Nicaragua. That contrasted with the world we are called to live in, so many people in Nicaragua are exponentially richer than the millionaires in America, or at least the ones that know Jesus. I need to remember that. 

My trip leader asked us during our devotional time to consider why it was that God called us here to Nicaragua and what he is doing through us. I'm of course not sure what that is just yet, but I'm trying to remember to keep an eternal perspective. Neither concrete, one-room homes nor stone mansions will last very long, and neither one can give us lasting joy. But the gifts of God give us hope and strength for this life as well as the promise of eternity by his side. So no matter whether I'm struggling to figure out how to build a house, or if I'm studying in college, or working a 9-to-5, keeping my eyes on the giver of life is a good way to follow after his purposes. It sometimes feels like a different world here, irrelevant and inapplicable to my "normal status-quo." But God is the same yesterday and today, in all circumstances, and among all people, believers or not. All I need is a willing mind and an open heart, no matter where I go, and God will use me. 

"For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to help you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

Please continue to pray for our team, and especially that we will be able to communicate the truth in Jeremiah 29:11 to the people around us. 

 

This is across the street. Gorgeous, huh? No filter, either. 

 

 

 

And So It Begins...

A team of 6 from my church at school  are traveling to Nicaragua this week to build a house. I'm grateful to be able to share that our adventure started off uneventfully. We all woke up around 4:15, piled into the cars and chowed some delicious bagel sandwiches that my sister made for us. (She's the bomb.) Our first flight left on time and we arrived in Houston at around 11 am. We walked a few laps around the airport, taking the express train to each terminal in search of the best place to eat. We had a 10 hour layover, so mostly we were just looking for ways to entertain ourselves.

We eventually found a cool Texas BBQ place that had delicious pulled pork. We lunched and then resumed galavanting around the airport. Amid our stint on a moving walkway, I noticed a familiar face standing along some of the gate benches. "Hey, that's Brene Brown!" I exclaimed, and she looked up at me. "Are you Brene Brown?" I asked eagerly, as the walkway slowly moved me down the hall. I convinced my group to track back to where she was. She graciously indulged my overly-enthusiastic fan behavior by agreeing to take a picture with us, wished us well on our mission trip, and then we left her to be with her family for their vacation. It was great. She is great. If you haven't read any of her books, check out Daring Greatly because it is brilliant, and follow up with a few of her Ted Talks. You won't regret it. 

My favorite part of our meeting was when my team member, Curt, introduced himself. She thought he said "Courage." "You're name is Courage? Mine's Vulnerability." LOL. 

So, one celebrity sighting later, we sought out a remote(ish) area with a place to plug in our phones, and commenced the card games, bible studying, naps, and other time fillers. I opened up to my favorite Old Testament book. 

The proverb of today (Proverbs 13) was vastly useful as we continue to pray and prepare our hearts to be servants. "The righteous eat to their hearts' content, but the stomach of the wicked goes hungry."

In America, we are undeniably rich. We have unlimited access to food, wealth and fortune, and are ever in pursuit of personal fame. But those things are comparatively unimportant. It's imperative that we remember that going to help the poor isn't about giving material goods, including food and shelter. It's about providing lasting sustenance to the spiritually starving. We have the gift of reconciliation with God, which grants eternal life. We can experience life on earth to the fullest with Jesus walking with us, and we have hope in eternity with him. Sharing His truth and gift with the poor is what makes these sacrificial trips worth it. The spiritual high is what keeps us coming back, knowing that sharing what we have doesn't decrease the richness of knowing Christ, but instead multiplies it. 

What other gift can do that?

 Please continue to pray for safety and effectiveness for our team members, as well as for interpersonal cohesiveness and joyful attitudes, as we venture out of our comfort zones.