A Different Kind of Exhaustion

As you can tell, none of my blogs are going to be short! When I finally get started writing, I can’t stop.

Monday we went to a village called San Isidro. It seemed it was going to be a visit much like the teams I have been with in the past have done. Boy, was I mistaken! When we arrived the children came running. It is always so amazing how they instinctively know we are there for them. Before we began playing with them we went into the school and visited with the adults. Jase had us introduce ourselves and he then thanked them for having us here. When he was finished Eguardo spoke. I wish you could hear him. He is a Chorti man who God has truly provided for our mission teams. He is the human “way in” to the Chorti villages. He is the vessel God uses to allow us access to these people. The people know and respect him, and he does not mince words with them. He tells the men how to be Godly husbands and fathers, and he does it in a way that is sometimes harsh, but he always gets his point across. He is a man of conviction. He is a wonderful husband and devoted father, and is very respected among the Chorti people, even though he lives in a town and not one of the villages. I cannot understand his words, but his passion for Christ and for the Chorti people is undeniable. We gathered all the children around and played games with them. They could play for hours. Some were playing with the parachute, and others were playing soccer. There was a group playing Duck, Duck, Goose while some jumped rope. Next was a Bible Story. Our teams tell the story AND act it out. Yes, this day was going much as the previous trips I have been on. Things were about to change dramatically. Marcia, Amber, Audrey, and I went to a woman’s house. Her husband is a Christian. I couldn’t really tell where she was spiritually. She and her daughters were now going to the Catholic Church. (Amber wrote all about it in her blog, so I won’t repeat it.) About the time we finished there, we divided into groups to “Prayer Walk”. In my naïve mind I thought we would wander around the village praying out loud. For some reason I thought this would all be done outdoors. (I told you it was naïve.) Each group went separate ways. When we came to a home we would ask them if we could pray. They would then invite us in. These people are so hospitable! They WANT you to come into their homes. I think about the times I’m embarrassed when friends come over and my home doesn’t look as I would like it to.

When we went into the first home the first thing I noticed was a very small child…I guessed about a year old, sitting on the dirt floor. He was filthy. He had on what was once a white t-shirt. His feet and legs were pure filth. The air was stifling hot. It was the middle of the day, the stove was going (NOT our kind of stoves…it is the heat of an open campfire, only right in the middle of the room), and the windows were partially closed. The woman asked us to pray for health for her family and for the crops. She pointed to the little boy and said he is three and has never walked. I thought he was about ONE! I was the one to pray in that home, and Arely was translating. As I began praying for that small child I became pretty emotional. To be asked by that woman to pray for her children and her family was a very humbling experience. I believe many of the infirmities that have befallen these people are “easy fixes” in the US. After many tears, when we left that home, we then went to another home. It seemed to be a better kept home. I thought to myself, “This is a much better situation than the previous home.” There was even an OLD sewing machine in one corner, and one of the girls there said she was going to try to learn to sew. Again, it was very hot. When Arely asked the girl how we could pray for them my whole image of this home changed. The girl could hardly speak she was so emotional. You see, her mother had died just a short time ago, and it was her, her father and several of her sisters living here. As I began to pray I honestly got choked on my words. I don’t know how Arely could even begin to translate through my weeping, but she did. I know we have children who lose parents and loved ones in the US, but here life is so much harder, even with both parents. Things are so much more difficult when that happens. After going to several other homes, we arrived at the last house we were to pray in. The woman did not want us to come inside, but she did want us to pray for her family. One of her sons was sick. He had gotten very sick the night before and had diarrhea and vomiting. He even had to run around the corner outside the throw up while we were there. Eguardo followed him around the corner. When they came back he told the mother he wanted her to come with us and we would take them down the mountain to the doctor. When we left the village we took the woman, her son, and a daughter down with us. While we ate lunch at the Mission house, Steve and Eguardo took them to the doctor. They got some medicine, and Eguardo took them home. If we had not been there, things could have been much different. I am amazed by how God’s timing works everything out. As I left that village I was more emotionally drained than with anything else we had done on any of my previous trips here. Audrey had told me “Prayer Walking” was an emotional roller coaster, but I did not fully understand the depth of that until that moment.

I thank God for each of you and the prayers you have uttered on our behalf. We love you, my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Trisha