Great quote

To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life. But to feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know, from those unknown to us, who are watching over our sleep and solitude, over our danger and our weaknesses—that is something still greater and more beautiful because it widens out the boundaries of our being and unites all living things.

Pablo Neruda, from Childhood and Poetry

Transformed

One thing you noticed right away about the Pastor of Mt. Olives was his exuberance. (And his wife was exactly the same). He had not an ounce of reticence or shyness about him. Everything about him was Big....his smiles, his hugs, the way he preached his message (Remember? The harvest is great, but the workers are few!!!). When he talked to you, he tended to repeat the same sentence several times...with more enthusiasm each time, as if, by sheer will, he would enable your English-speaking brain to comprehend his rapid-fire Spanish words. As he brought the second church service to a close on Tuesday night, he was up on the altar and his one-man band and church lady singers started to sing and play us out. Suddenly, he just seemed to break into dance. He was hopping across that stage like his feet were on fire, smiling and waving all the time. He encouraged everyone in the church to come forward and join him in his Happy Dance. Later, my friend described him as a man who looked like he had just won the lottery. His circumstances were materially so simple, compared to ours. But he was rich in his relationship with Christ, and he exuded a joy for the Lord that was just flat-out contagious.

As we drew near the end of the trip, the mission team talked a lot about how to hold on to the transformation we experienced in Costa Rica. It's not easy to do. As soon as the plane touches down at Hartsfield, you immediately feel sucked back into the whirlwind of your life. One of the reasons taking a mission trip was so amazing for me was that it afforded me the opportunity to be removed from all my obligations, all the control-freakish craziness that comes from trying to build the good life for me and mine. I purposely opened my mind and heart in Costa Rica and said, Here I am, Lord. Do what you will through me. There is nothing else this week except Your will. And I was allowed to experience the small miracles that come from total surrender. I realize I'm supposed to live in that kind of surrender all time, but I very rarely do it! I also experienced a new level of trust in Costa Rica. Knowing that I was openly and completely in God's will, and through the encouragement of our team's leaders, I trusted that He would provide all that we needed to carry out His wishes. And He did. Every day, there was a small voice of worry within that wondered, How are we going to accomplish all this stuff? And every day, without fail, God provided in a surprising and amazing way.

We talk much in East Cobb about not taking our blessings for granted. Most of the time, we're referring to our material blessings...which are great, no doubt. But for me, it seems that I've been less apt to take my material blessings for granted than I have been to take my spiritual blessings for granted. I am so used to being a Christian...have been one my whole life... maybe I've taken my relationship with the Lord for granted? Why don't I more often feel the joy and exuberance that Pastor showed us? Why does it take a trip to another country for me to truly live in surrender and trust in God? Why can't I do that on a day-to-day basis? So, there is the bottom line of what I learned on my mission trip, and it is the transformation I'm going to try to hold on to. Joy. Trust. Surrender. Amen.

Humming Along Just Won't Do

One more story from Costa Rica....

It seemed from the beginning that music was going to play an important part in this mission trip. It started with that stunning rendition in Spanish of How Great Thou Art at our first church service at Mt. Olives. Many team members used songs or lyrics from hymns during their devotions. There is something so stirring about music. Perhaps music gives the Holy Spirit an inconspicuous inroads into our hearts, allowing Him to swell up and bubble over when we hear that high, clear note or that lyric that strongly reminds us of something deeply felt. Even the fun kids' songs we sang in church complete with silly dance moves had the power to choke me up as I looked out into a sea of faces and noticed the joy on each child's face...in utter innocence, they were praising the Lord and getting a lot of enjoyment out of the act. On Tuesday night, when we attended a second church service at Mt. Olives, we found ourselves singing again....out loud and without understanding most of the words. Then, about midway through, the one-man-band told us he had a special song for the missionaries. And he broke out with Shout to the Lord. In English! This is, of course, a well-played song here in the US. If you listen to the FISH radio station for any length of time in the car, you will most likely hear Shout to the Lord. And the lyrics, so purely moving whenever you hear them, sounded even more meaningful in that setting, at that moment.

Shout to the Lord, all the earth, let us sing

Power and Majesty, praise to the King;

Mountains bow down and the seas will roar

At the sound of Your name.

I sing for joy at the work of your hands,

Forever I'll love You, forever I'll stand

Nothing compares to the promise I have in You....

After he finished, everyone in the church began to clap and call out Hallelujah and Amen. The clapping went on. And on. And on. For five straight minutes. Later, we reflected on the unique nature of that moment...how often do you get to clap for Jesus like that?

Home Sweet Home

We arrived safely back in Atlanta last night at about 7 p.m. It was the best thing ever to hear my kids' voices on the phone and to see my sweetie in person and talk his ear off about Costa Rica! I'm off today to see the girls, and I can't wait to hold them in my arms again. I still have a couple of more stories for the blog, and I'll post some pictures also as they come in from the team. So stay tuned! Thanks for your support..... :-) Pura Vida!

Church Ladies and Bus Drivers

We have been privileged to meet some very special people in Costa Rica. One of them was our bus driver, Luis. As with everyone here, he is someone who started out a stranger to me but quickly became a friend. When a mission team comes to Costa Rica, they contract with a bus company to provide transportation for the entire week. The bus driver, who remains the same each day, is basically at the teams disposal throughout the whole trip. Our driver was Luis, a young guy in maybe his mid-twenties, who has been the team's driver for the past 4 or 5 years. Because he has driven for Mt. Bethel before, team members who were returning to Costa Rica were very familiar with him, and they all greeted each other warmly when he fetched us from the hotel the first day.

What I didn't realize, but quickly came to understand, was that Luis was much more than our driver. He was a full and contributing member of the team. On the first day, I noticed him at some point painting alongside me on the exterior of the church. And not just painting, but climbing way up on a rickety ladder (which I had not even considered doing myself) to paint the very top of the church. On the following days, he was working upstairs in the parsonage. Later, he was painting the inside of the church with us. He helped prepare dinner for the fiesta, and he held the pinata for the kids...again, from high up on a rickety ladder! He went to dinner with us at night and to Pops with us for ice cream. He even walked with me and a couple of the guys (I felt like I was in the movie Bodyguard) one morning, leading us to a pharmacy several blocks away when it became apparent that I have contracted a nasty case of poison ivy (which funnily in Spanish is apparently called Mal Mujer, or bad woman!) It took me a couple of days to realize that he speaks quite good, self-taught English, which was a little embarrassing since I had been trying to speak my Gringo Spanish to him since we met. He really won me over, however, the day I heard him discussing one of the nearby areas that is even worse off than the one we are in at present...to the point that the police and Red Cross workers have abandoned it. Luis said he visits the neighborhood to help out sometimes, and someone said...We've been told even the police wont go there, and they have guns! And he said, It's no problem... I go with God. Wow.

Another person who made a big impact on me was a woman named Dona Ana...one of the church ladies I mentioned before. Ana was there the day we first visited Mount of Olives, which was Sunday last. After the church service, she was one of the women who served us lunch, which we had not expected them to provide. Ana is perhaps in her 60s with white hair and a wide, crooked smile. She is your typical grandmotherly type...my mom would say she is a good hugger, which is a high compliment in our family. Ana knows very little English, so it was hard at first to communicate. But each day, Ana was at the church early, and she and perhaps Pastor's wife or another lady from the church would start cooking in the teeny kitchen. At about 9 or 10 in the morning, you would start to smell something delicious wafting down into the sanctuary if you walked by the door to the parsonage. I can only imagine the torture the men upstairs must have endured every day...smelling that lovely food cooking for hours on end as they worked!

The first day, Ana and the ladies made chicken and rice...completely from scratch with tiny chopped vegetables and marinated chicken. They served it with fresh pineapple and salty chips. One day we had a wonderful piece of pork in mushroom gravy, rice, papaya, a potato-apple salad and a smooth, creamy guacamole that was heavenly. We begged her for the recipe, but it may be one of those dishes that just cannot be duplicated ... its creamy goodness probably has everything to do with time and place and the amount of love and care put into the preparation and little to do with the list of ingredients. The food coming out of that kitchen was nothing short of gourmet. And Ana herself was so gracious and warm...it made the food taste even better knowing that she had cooked it. Later Ana would appear at VBS, or maybe afterward to help clean up. She and the ladies would sometimes put a children's Spanish CD on and burst into song and dance. They taught us a song and dance about a frog and one about being loco for God, and I will never forget Ana, Lidiette and Sylvia.... three grown women... falling on the floor at the end of that song in fits of laughter.

After our lunch yesterday, we gave Ana and the pastors a couple of gifts...Ana then spoke just a few quiet sentences that brought me to tears. She had a very difficult life when she was young, and she said that everything she does now...for us, for the church and for the pastors...she does because she wants the people in her former neighborhood, those who are lost and broken like she was, to have the opportunity to know the Lord and to have His peace to comfort them...a privilege that she now fully enjoys. Ana, at that moment, was transformed before my eyes from the happy-go-lucky lady who cooked for us into a deeply spiritual person who is living out her faith with her every word and action. Ana is a true missionary who wants others to receive the greatest blessing she has ever received. The song ...Open the Eyes of my heart, Lord, which we sang often at Mt. Olives... comes to mind when I think about Ana.

Rock Stars for God

Today was our last work day at the Mount of Olives Church in Barrio Mexico. As we were planning our day last night, I will admit to a trace of skepticism. Our list of tasks included: Installing two more drop ceilings in the parsonage, painting the entire sanctuary of the church, presiding over up to 130 kids at VBS and hosting a Fiesta slash American style cookout for the entire neighborhood. With no gas grill. OK, let's be honest here...I was pretty sure there was no way it was all going to happen. But it did! And I'm not even all that tired. Pure adrenaline, peeps. I recommend it.

The neighborhood fiesta was awesome. It was only mentioned yesterday and today at VBS, and once on the VBS invitations we handed out at the school every afternoon...but we had about 250 people come through the church tonight! An amazing number that I think Pastor was very happy with...the majority was most likely made up of unchurched people from the surrounding area. Hopefully they got a taste of the joy and exuberance for the Lord that lives at the Mount of Olives church, and they will want to come again to get sommadat!

The children have really warmed up to us over the past four days, and tonight they were flat out adorable, showering us with kisses and hugs and holding our hands. As a mama dearly missing her own kids right now, it couldn't have been more wonderful for me to hold these children and shower them with compliments and love. Pastor's wife made four huge, beautiful iced cakes for the party (in her tiny kitchen with two stoves and zero countertops...Im going to post some pictures of it when I get back...you cannot believe how cramped and pieced together this thing is, but the food that emerged from there daily was far superior to any restaurant food I've eaten this week...and we've had some great meals!). When the cakes came in, the whole crowd applauded and the kids faces literally lit up! Pastor had the team come up on stage and thanked us for our work, showed the crowd the cross we and the children made for the church and then he announced una sopreza...or a surprise! And at that moment, through the church doors walked a complete Mariachi band! The crowd went wild, to borrow a phrase, and the band sang and played for us...it was unbelievable. Afterward, all the kids started asking us to sign bits of paper or paper plates or even their shirts and arms. All of a sudden, we were feeling like rock stars for God!

As the party began to break up, everyone came over to us to say Adios, Mucho Gusto, Gracias and I Love You. The church ladies, which is what I called them in my mind all week, hugged our necks tightly and wished us blessings and safe travels. My special friend tonight, 5-year-old Paola, came over to hug me and kiss my cheek and put a piece of her own candy in my hand. I showed her very pregnant mama (she is due in one week and was at bible school with her two kids every day!) a picture of my two girls, and a few minutes later Paola brought me a picture of herself with her cousins and aunt. In the picture, she is holding a baby doll and laughing. I looked at it and handed it back to her, but her mama said something like... Paola dice para usted, which means Paola wants you to have it. I choked back my tears and leaned down to tell her...Tu familia es muy linde...I hope she understood my broken Spanish.

As we drove away from the church for the last time, with the neighbors waving and following the bus down the street, the feelings were naturally mixed. A contented happiness that we were able to accomplish many things for them, mixed with a heavy sadness that we would not be seeing their beautiful faces again. At least for a while....

Painting and Hugs

Another awesome day in Costa Rica....

Sorry I missed yesterday, readers...I must say, I WAS WHIPPED. We spent all day setting up for VBS and felt prepared and calm when the first ninos showed up at 2 p.m., but our calm quickly turned to frantic when 130 kids streamed in the door! More than twice what we had expected and planned for. Every 10 minutes or so another table and another 20 chairs would appear, only to be quickly filled by more, very cute kids. I will tell you more about that later.

As for today.... we started out painting. Painting the entire exterior of the church, plus the sanctuary, was added to our growing list of tasks, which also includes VBS and the replacement of the parsonage ceilings. I was skeptical, I will admit. But by the end of the day, two out of four rooms in the parsonage had brand new drop ceilings (replacing wooden ceilings which had recently suffered major water damage and termite damage), the exterior of the church miraculously became a bright, fresh Mt. Bethel yellow and one wall in the sanctuary was also a sunny yellow. And we had a great VBS on top of all that. Many hands make light work! I thought the whole time that Grandpa and Teeny would be appalled by the paint job we were doing... no prep work, no cutting in, paint all over everything. But in the end, it didnt look half bad.... If you look at it from afar, while squinting... But Pastor was very happy with it and said he had dreamed about the new colors the night before, and it turned out just the way he imagined. And you just cannot receive better praise than that.

I saw some of the same kids we saw the first day at VBS, and I was able to finagle enough Spanish to talk to them a little and praise the beautiful little crafts they made. Their faces just lit up at the sound of my clumsy Muy Bonitas and Buenos... and their smiles were priceless to me. One little girl, about 4 years old, named Michelle, pronounced MeChell, came up to me and held my hands and asked Como se Llama...I told her my name and asked hers. Then she said Que Linde...which means you are pretty, and she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me one of those melt into you hugs that my own little girl gives me. I thought my heart would just split in two, with both happiness for this little girl and a strong aching for home. At the church service tonight, I saw Michelle with her mom and 7-year-old brother, Byron. Mom had brought the kids to church so that Pastor and the congregation could pray for Byron, who has leukemia. And we did. And we will.