Not The Lent I Signed Up For

Sawdust carpet in Antigua Guatemala (photo by Annette Aguilar)

Lent. The season of slowing down and meditating on Christ's days leading to his death. Lent makes me homesick. There is nothing like lent in Guatemala. The city turns purple, and you will undoubtedly find processions throughout the season. The flower and sawdust carpets adorn streets.
The mayor's office publishes an official day-to-day calendar of all the city's activities. You can't escape it. And so this year, I started lent feeling meh. Feeling like it was not lent yet.

I gave some thought to the things I wanted to give up, and realize rather than giving up something, I much needed to take up an abandoned practice - getting up early. I really missed those early times of having an hour to myself. I envisioned great times of reading Scripture, digging deep, writing page after page in my journal, and why not, drinking that cup of coffee while still warm and in one sitting.

Alas, the one kid who wakes up every night with a different issue, the other kid who despite turning one still thinks I'm her personal 24-hour buffet, and my night-owl wayward ways, made me realized that I had not set myself up for success here. My friends and I read through Isaiah. The plan we were following was very heavy on the reading, and there were times I would read, and re-read, and still it would feel like nothing was entering my head.

So, I felt I was flunking lent. This whole season wasn't really going the way I had envisioned it. Then, one Friday afternoon, two weeks before Easter, one of the kids came down with a fever and started throwing up. That week, five of our little friends had been hospitalized with a stomach virus, and I just knew these were the same symptoms. A few hours later, I got a voice message from my brother Pablo, sharing some heavy health news. We spoke that night. Things were not looking great, but nothing could be known until he underwent surgery, perhaps in the next couple weeks.

That night, Roy and I took turns taking care of a sick little boy - my sick brother always in the back of my mind. As I watched Daniel sleep, I thought of how Jesus said we are to become like children. I had always thought if it as an invitation to the all-believing, joyful, laid back beings they often are. But here was a needy, weak and sick little boy. I thought of Jesus as a sick three year old boy.

Photo by Annette Aguilar

"Who has believed our message...?" Indeed. As I spent all my energy cloroxing every inch of my I could not risk contagion, it was really hard to believe this wild story of such dire suffering and salvation. It's still really hard for me to believe that a 29-year-old man whose diapers I changed as a baby, who I played hide-and-seek with, who I watched grow, is going through physical pain and anguish I cannot fathom.

"A man of sorrow... familiar with pain" And this cuts deep. Oh... pain and I are no strangers. But no matter how many times the pain has struck, I want to quickly turn my face away. I want to avoid more. I want to run away from it. And it is hard for me to see Christ in pain. I want to see him in glory. I want to see him in miracles. But I don't want to see him in pain.

I ended up driving past midnight to the ER with my boy. We were sent home about an hour later. Saturday afternoon, as I was still caring for the sick boy, still trying to clean up messes and keep the other two kids safe, we got another message. It was now the brother's turn to head to the ER, except his wouldn't be an hour-long visit. He would spend the next morning in surgery, where doctors were to find his cancer is back, rather aggressive. He spent the next three days in ICU. He then came home a week after that. Went back in this past Tuesday.

I spent hours the Monday after his surgery looking for flights. Nothing would work out. I've never experienced this before, but it really was impossible to fly during that week. And so, I stayed home... caring for the other two kids who had caught up with the virus. And as I sat there, a hundred questions racing through my mind, thinking 'when then, do I get to go?' the prophet I have been reading comes to mind:

"Who among you fears the Lord
    and obeys the word of his servant?
Let the one who walks in the dark,
    who has no light,
trust in the name of the Lord
    and rely on their God." (Isaiah 50:10)

No early morning, Scripture filled, coffee-flavored, long-handed journal entry Lent for me. But a messy, sickness-filled, uncertain, and scary Lent. And a Divine invitation to trust. I am reminded, once again, about Jesus farewell to his disciples, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

Thoughts about Planting Trees and Glory

Roy's reflections 

Last week we welcomed our first US work team of 2017. It is always an exciting time for us. The work team impact is huge - much of what exists at Pico has been made by them. This year they are planting trees, assembling bunk beds, improving access, building gazebos, erecting safety fences, pouring sidewalks, creating shade, making benches, painting dorms... We look at their work (and ours) as lovingly caring for holy ground. 

Recently I have been reading Revelations. This is a tricky book of the Bible for me. I like the concrete - things I can see and touch and wrap my hands around. I studied engineering and not philosophy for good reasons. I prefer to focus on the practical side of life. So I confess that Revelations is sometimes a bit "out there" for me. But in the last couple of years, God has been taking me through experiences that have made practical and "out there" intersect for me.

This morning I went back to the first chapter in Revelations. John paints a very vivid picture of Jesus. This is no longer the Jesus that walked around in the skin of a Galilean carpenter, but the Jesus that had returned to his full glory. 

^"I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me. And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone like a son of man, dressed in a robe reaching down to his feet and with a golden sash around his chest. The hair on his head was white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and coming out of his mouth was a sharp, double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance." [Rev. 1:12-16]

I tend to think of Jesus in in more down-to-earth terms. As one who likes to work with wood, I am comfortable thinking about Jesus the carpenter who was fully God, but looked more or less like me. Yet I cheat myself if I keep Jesus in the box of human limitations. The reality is that while our God loves and cares for us, he is not our nanny. He is holy, magnificent, all-powerful, full of glory and worthy of our fear and praise and wonder. 

Many of you have never been to Pico Escondido, but I hope you all have places where God has given you glimpses of Himself. These are holy places. Normal spaces transformed by God's glory. The Apostle John's island of Patmos was a Roman prison. Yet it was where God gave him an amazing vision of Christ in all of his true glory. For hundreds of adolescents each summer, Pico Escondido becomes the same thing. It is a place they come to because it sounds like a lot of fun - because we have a pool and a giant swing and great food and lots of other people their ages. Yet for many of those who come it is transformed into holy ground - the place where they met Jesus.

A Prayer Walk In Distant Lands

Inviting kids to club with my cousin Debora

Last week, I was in Costa Rica for meetings with about 36 staff from all over Latin America. On Wednesday, we split into five groups and spent the day hanging out with local leaders in different neighborhoods where clubs have started up/will start recently. I didn't know where I was going, but I ended up having the incredible blessing of going to the neighborhood of San Rafael, where my cousin is currently doing ministry.

After spending some time hearing the story of the community, and how a particular club started there, we were invited to be part of a Prayer Walk with the local leaders. A Prayer Walk is pretty much that - you walk throughout a neighborhood with a couple friends, inviting the Holy Spirit to reveal to you what work is being done in that neighborhood, and how the Lord may be asking you to be part of it. It's very simple and conversational. You don't stop and 'pray over' a place. You walk, pray as you walk with your eyes open, talking with your friends and asking what is being observed in general. Prayer Walks are one of the main practices we have been using in our ministry as we have been learning different ways of cooperating with the Holy Spirit with our friends from Presbyterian-Reformed Ministries International (PRMI).

So, our group divided into smaller groups of three and we set off to walk. I was with Sharon, who is an Area Director in Costa Rica, and Aaron, a volunteer leader. We started off, and prayed as we walked for the different things we felt led to pray in the moment. We prayed that if God had someone for us to meet or talk to, that we would know. After about 15 minutes of walking, we found ourselves at the entrance of a community that was in the middle of two adjacent neighborhoods where there is Young Life, but neither Sharon nor Aaron had ever walked through it. So, we went in, and as we walked I started feeling a need to pray for moms who were praying for their own children. I prayed for moms whose children were struggling with addictions and felt alone. We prayed they would find other moms or people to pray with. We continued walking, and found ourselves at the end of the neighborhood where there was a basketball court. We had a clear view of Granadilla, the other community where there is a club. A place full of violence and various needs. We spent a good time praying there.

After we were done, we turned around, and started walking back. At the same time, from the other side of the street, out of some bushes, came an elderly woman, with an armful of logs over her shoulder. A machete was tied to her skirt. Aaron offered to carry the logs for her. She said they weren't too heavy, but if he insisted, sure he could help her. Aaron had to steady himself, as the logs were indeed heavy. She asked if we were from La Muni, the mayor's office. Aaron replied that were were from an organization that worked with teenagers and we were just praying for the community. She nodded.

We reached her house, and said goodbye. As we walked away, she sort of yelled, "let's see if you guys can remember to pray for me and my family." So, we turned around, and asked how we could pray for her. She said we could pray for her son. He was addicted to drugs, at the moment was inside the house. She said she had lost him to drugs, and sometimes she felt so hopeless she thought about running away. So right there, outside her gate, we prayed for her; we prayed for her son; then we took turns giving her hugs. And we walked away just marveled at the whole encounter.

That evening, I was sharing the story with my aunt, and she said, "I love it when God works that way... Actually, He ALWAYS works that way. It's us who miss out on it."

May we not want to miss any of it.

Uncertainty in a Green Bag

A week ago the husband underwent a double hernia surgery. I went with him for his last pre surgery check up and came out more concerned about his recovery at home than the surgery itself. The thought of having him come with surgery done on both sides of his abdomen and him not being able to lift any weight for at least six weeks was a little overwhelming - I just kept thinking that the same boys who had given him the hernias were the ones he was coming home to.

So, on Wednesday morning, we drove at 6AM to the hospital an hour away. We checked in, and by 8:30 they called his name, and he went inside. We had prayed, and I was very chill about the whole procedure, he was not going to get general anesthesia, and as I understood it, there was very little risk. About 15 minutes later, I heard a nurse shout the husband's name and call for a relative. She handed me a green plastic bag, with the husband's belongings.

After getting the bag, I noticed for the first time all the other green bags on the floor, next to all the other relatives who were in the waiting area. I pulled out my computer and got to work, trying to pass the time in a productive way. I smiled at the ladies sitting around me, and was a little surprised to see one of them did not return it. She had a fixed look of concern in her face, and even though we could see each other, I was too far away to start a conversation with her, so I just got busy again. After a while of sitting there, I got bits and pieces of her story as I overheard her conversation with other people - her daughter was in surgery. She had already lost a daughter a year ago and was now raising her 2-year-old grandson. I understood the deep concern in her face; I felt a little self-conscious about my cheerful smile earlier.

Hours went by, and I heard nothing. People's names kept being called, except for the one I was there for. After spending a few hours working and making calls, both my computer and phone had run out of battery and I had no place to plug them in. So, I had nothing to do but sit there and take in the fact that my husband had been inside a surgery room for four hours and I had not heard any news.

And then I had the most awful feeling that he was gonna have severe blood loss and not make it. I started praying and asking for protection against hemorrhage. I wasn't sure why I was thinking this weird anxious thoughts, but I kept praying anyways, and thought a lot about uncertainty. I also tried to get a little distracted and watched the TV in the waiting room, but it was full of international news and interviews, and it made me even more aware of how uncertain life is. We get used to our normal. We assess our risks. But in reality, we cannot really have control over the things happening around us. But we can TRUST... We can let the words of the prophet sink in our hearts

"Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord himself, is the rock eternal." (Isaiah 26:4)

Finally, around 2PM, I heard my husband's name, and I was ushered into the recovery room, and there he was, smiling and talking, and we only got a couple of minutes, but I got to see his face. He had talked to the doctor and the doctor said everything had gone well. The nurse told me there were no rooms available in the hospital at the moment, so I could go have lunch and come back. When I came back, I got to see the doctor, who reassured me all had gone well, had taken a little longer than expected, but he had been able to do his work and the husband was doing great.

I got to see him again a little before 5PM, then a friend took over, I drove home, took care of kids, got bath time rolling, left the baby asleep, and drove back. They finally brought him to his room at 10PM. That's when I got more details about the surgery - in general, as the doctor had said, things had gone well. It just had taken longer. He had been in there for about 3 hours. It had taken longer because he was bleeding a lot. That's right. The doctor had to go extra slow because the husband was bleeding more than normal. I sat there not believing what I was hearing. This was exactly what I had been praying for during the time he was in surgery!

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans." (Romans 8:26)

 And so I was once again reminded and assured that this is a God I can trust. At times, it seems like the world is unwinding and things keep changing. Old and new challenges may overwhelm us. Old fears and new ones spring up. But oh, this Love we have, we can trust Him. 

"I’ve told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I’ve conquered the world.” (John 16:33)

Stinky Feet And Other Things Human

A couple of months ago we were sitting at the dinner table while one of the boys said he wanted to talk that evening about stinky feet. We all laughed at his random choice of conversation and asked him if he had stinky feet. He replied, "No... But I think Jesus did." We all laughed some more, but I did marvel at this little boy's comprehension of Jesus' humanity. He did not come up with this idea on his own. One of the books they love to read at night is The Jesus Storybook Bible. One of the stories it tells is about Jesus washing the disciple's feet - how everyone back then had stinky feet because they wore sandals and had dirty roads. So, yes, Jesus also had stinky feet.

This past fall we had a lot of rain. A lot of rain. So, when you have little boys who love to play in the water and a mama who wears sandals a lot, well, you eventually come across the challenge of foot odor - or cicote as it is known in the Dominican Republic.

I think the main reason why Daniel's observation caught my eye was that it was not just that Jesus had stinky feet, it was that this meant he totally understood what it was like to be well... Me. And I started thinking that most of the time I try to deal with my shortcomings like I deal with my stinky feet. Sometimes, I keep my shoes on at all cost - I stay distant, guarded, don't play any games that would put me in the position of having to take my shoes off; I don't put myself at the risk of uncovering my soul and letting those around me see how truly broken I am. Other times, I just spend my resources in doing my best to fix or avoid the problem - I buy the best foot care there is, make sure I invest in quality shoes, or avoid muddy areas,  so I work hard and fill my life with enough things, degrees, good works, spending so much energy in avoiding the things that might make me get to that truly broken place. But reality is that, under the right (or rather wrong) circumstances, we all get some cicote at some point.

And there He Is. The High Priest - kneeling down in front of me, saying "I know... I know... just let me wash this for you." And I want to say "No. Please, it's just that I didn't realize it was going to be so muddy... my bad... poor choice of shoes... I'll take care of that when I get home." Yet there He stays, The High priest - kneeling down ready to wash not just stinky feet but all sorts of shortcomings.  

"Now that we know what we have—Jesus, this great High Priest with ready access to God—let’s not let it slip through our fingers. We don’t have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He’s been through weakness and testing, experienced it all—all but the sin. So let’s walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help." Hebrews 4:14-16 

What truly Good News. I want to do that - walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give!

Pico Escondido - Year in Review

Pico Escondido - 2016 in Review

Note: I am posting a summary of our ministry here, but in a separate blog entry I am posting a bunch of our favorite pictures from this year at Pico Escondido and a project update.


By most measures, Young Life in the Dominican Republic had a fantastic year. The need for youth ministry in the Dominican Republic is huge, and even though we reach more and more young people every year, we are still only a drop in the bucket. There are countless kids who are not getting the chance to hear about Jesus. We need to do more.  

Pico Escondido had the biggest year in its history. We had 1153 campers and leaders attend summer outreach in 2016. That meant that an average of 240 people were sleeping at camp every night – a camp set up to house 185! This extended to the rest of our year as well, with more groups, more people, and more guest days than ever before. For this reason, and the knowledge that ministry will continue to grow, we are making some big changes. First, we will increase from six to eight summer outreach camps in 2017. Second, we are actively planning the next phase of development of Pico Escondido. We will add 128 more beds and a larger dining hall. We are excited about these coming changes and looking forward to seeing their impact on the number of kids who will begin following Jesus. 

Young Life’s vision is to introduce adolescents to Jesus and help them grow in their faith. I mention the big numbers of kids coming to camps – and it is fun for all of us to see – but the real meat is in the discipleship. One of the first people to try to get Young Life going in the DR was a man named Fran Huerta. He and his wife spent a few years here before deciding to return to the US. They did not get to see the fruit of their labor while still in the DR. Yet Fran had poured into a college student named Rafa. Fran had taught Rafa the essentials of YL ministry, and had showed him how to copy Jesus’ practices of teaching crowds, but investing deeply in just a handful. Now, more than 25 years later, Rafa is the YL national director and leaders are still discipling handfuls of kids each. But there are now over two hundred leaders doing the discipling, so over a thousand kids are growing with them this year, many of whom will do that for others. 

Last night Rebeca and I were discussing an Advent devotional on the Magnificat – Mary’s song/prayer to God upon learning that she would be the mother of Jesus. This young adolescent is awed that God would take her “of humble estate” and transform her into the mother of the Messiah. On a daily basis God is also taking hundreds of young Dominican adolescents and elevating them from humble estate to taking part in the miracle of salvation. Thank you, Lord Jesus!

Favorite Pico Photos 2016

Following are some of our favorite photos from 2016 at Pico Escondido

  

 

 

Drone Video of Pico: