When I first started out on this wonderful, crazy, amazing journey of 11 in 11, I could not have even dreamed of the beautiful people I have met, the enriching experiences I’ve had, or the incredible stories that have fallen on my ears and heart, or the stories that I get to carry with me and tell. One could only pray; I wouldn’t have believed you if you told me before the race. But here I am, in June (I swear, it’s still January and winter at home in my mind), month 6 of my race, having just left Central America to finish the rest of my journey in South America, just about reaching the midpoint of my excursion abroad.
My journey is littered with people and their stories who have impacted my heart. There are smiles of children with tender, big brown eyes that sometimes flash in my head when it’s quiet and no one else is awake, as I sip my warm coffee in the crisp morning air. I think back to the wonder and curiosity I had as I walked down the cobblestone roads of old cities. I flashback to the afternoons I spent with our cooks in Nicaragua drinking stale coffee, or the ones spent sprawled out on the cement floor of the church in Honduras. I think of the free, passionate, and sometimes comical way the church in Honduras would sing “toda la gloria, gloria, hey hey!” I remember the long drive to visit a new orphanage for the day and by the time I left, their little arms were wrapping themselves around my waist, or the day my little latina squad mates taught me how to bachata in the living room. I have a school photo of my sweet friend, Normita. I have two pairs of shoes, and a t-shirt, that a Nicaraguan family gave to me because somehow I made a big impact on them, and even though they don’t have a whole lot at all, they wanted to give and give to me, and there was nothing I could do about it, except to receive them with teary eyes, full of gratitude. I remember the hard goodbyes. I remember all the people who have taken me in. I remember all of the angels that God has placed in my path along the way. I hope to carry their stories and memories with me forever.
But I want to tell you about the latest blessing, the latest pair of angels. So, at the end of Nicaragua, my whole squad got together to debrief, and as we left for the next month, we were embarking with new teams! So yes, I have had team changes, and I am currently in month 2 with my newish team.
My old team, team relentless, will always hold such a dear place in my heart. Gosh, those girls made me laugh like none other. They are the group that took me in, made me feel loved, called me higher. Just the other day, I was reading all these loving and encouraging post-it notes that each girl wrote for me back in month 1 in El Salvador. They have seen me at my weirdest moments and have hugged me through times when I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. Somewhere between the homesickness and heat, in-between the tears, the joys, the sharing everything, and the not having 5 minutes to ourselves, they burrowed into one of the deepest parts of my life and my heart. Our journey will always be a special one and I have shared laughter with each one of them that rivals any other.
Okay, going back to the adventures of my new team… So, for the month of Panama (last month) my team was on a special mission! It was to find new contacts for the world race to partner with in the future. Entonces, we found ourselves in the smack dab middle of Panama City, staying in a hostel where we were praying and searching for any leads of where to go next. And we waited. And waited. And waited. For dayssssss. I began to go crazy. I started to go stir crazy and felt pent up in the hostel. Every morning, other people in the hostel would leave to go do fun, adventurous, touristy things, and I would just stay there. There would also be these workers that would come and turn our AC off at about 8 in the morning, and there was no place in the hostel at all to find any relief from the heat of Panama. Sometimes, it felt like I couldn’t even breathe without sweating. So we made it a routine to hike to the nearest McDonald’s just for some AC, and by the time I got there, I was sweating and so of course I had to buy a little ice cream. There was one day in particular that I was truly going crazy or going ape, as my team(s) like to call it. I hated everything. I hated the heat, I hated Panama, I hated not having anything to do, I hated the people who came to turn the AC off on me everyday. I thought this was going to be a truly miserable month and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. Sure, Panama City had some great views of a beautiful skyline at night(something I haven’t really seen since the States), and has something of deep historical and engineering wonder that I had the blessing to see, you know, the Panama Canal, but still. I didn’t know what I was doing there and everything in me was restless and itching. And at this point, I will just tell you that God was probably smiling down on me and in the kindest way possible laughing at me, thinking, “oh my sweet daughter, if only you knew the places I’m taking you…”
It’s a funny, and interesting story of how we ended up in a town called Rio Sereno, that includes staying in a tiki hut, water aerobics, an overnight 7 hour bus ride, and being told to gather all my things because I’m leaving in a matter of minutes, but somehow it happened.
Without realizing it, I ended up on a journey that took me way up into the beautiful windy roads of the mountains, and on the doorstep of the Caballero family. The Caballeros have a ministry that includes growing, harvesting, roasting, and shipping coffee to support missionaries. P.S. coffee is like, my favorite thing if you didn’t know. They have an inspirational dream where they support 365 missionaries, to represent each day of the year. This family lives in a dream world that is quite foreign to me. You see, they have like 400 chickens, whose eggs we retrieved and cleaned everyday, a bunch of pigs and cows, and I even got to help fertilise their corn crops! For a gal from New York who tries so hard to fit into the country and southern world, this was both new and exciting for me!
The sights of this town was unbelievable and breath-taking. Everywhere I looked, I saw lush green beauty, a stark contrast to the yellow cabs and bustle of Panama City. The air was fresh and cool. I could see the depth of the valley and the breathtaking mountains still in the distance.
They showed us around their finca (plantation), where they even have ‘un buen lugar por meditacion’ as they call it. They took us on a beautiful hike to a river way low in the valley and it reminded me of my summer spent out in Colorado. They also took us to all-natural hot springs that were lovely and felt so tribal and jungle-like. And to get there, we basically took a one-way, windy dirt road, and on the way back down after our afternoon, the roads were quite slick and muddy from the rain. We were all piled in the back of the truck and I remember thinking, “how did I get here?” One day, we visited another team of ours at a ministry nearby, and again, the hilly and mountainous views across waters was stunning. I remember we crossed this little bridge across a little lake and I wasn’t even sure the bridge was going to hold us. It felt so remote up in these mountains, and I think for the most part, we were in a pretty remote area. When we visited this other ministry, they were having a church service for the native, indigenous tribe of the Ngobe people. We sang some praise songs that were familiar to us, and then, they showed us some of their tribal dances and I even got to join in and learn them. I still am humbled that I got just a tiny little peak into their culture and that they would be willing to teach me and let me dance with them.
From the moment I stepped onto the porch of the Caballero family, they were so welcoming and inviting to all of us. They had a 2 hour notice that missionaries were going to come stay with them. Each morning I woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and a delicious breakfast that Yaneth (the mother) was preparing for all of us. My whole team decided that this food was some of the best that we have ever had, and that’s because it was made with love. This family took us in as their own. I never felt out of place; I always felt like another daughter to them. I would joke around with Enoc (the father) and would sit at the table with a cup of coffee, long after we were done eating, laughing with Yaneth and the kids. Their son, Abner, has one of the most sweetest spirits I have ever encountered, and I treasure those little kisses on the cheek he would give me. And their daughter Libney, is one of the most fun and intelligent teenagers I know.
A unique and sweet friendship grew between us and the family. And when I think of what it means to be community, and to be the church, this is what I think it looks like. It looks like a house full of love. A place where we care for one another by serving good food, and offering to do the dishes afterwards. Community is sitting at the table long after the foods eaten, the dishes are done, and the coffee is getting cold. A place where we talk about God and what He is doing. Where we live, even the small tasks of our lives, like cleaning eggs for an hour, for the Lord. Where we trust that there is always enough. Where we share our homes, greet each other with a hug and smile, where we laugh so hard on the wood floors, and we share our tears because we are so moved and humbled by how good the Lord is. Where life is slow, and we enjoy each moment as it hits us, and find the joy and blessing in each thing.
The Lord told the Caballeros 11 years ago that He would send them missionaries. And us, showing up to their home in the lateness of the night, with hardly any notice, was an answer and fruition of their prayers and the waiting. You see, I have gone to all these places, and have had all these experiences, and have loved all these people, and my heart forever feels tethered to them. I hope and pray that bond never breaks. And I keep adding to a running list of these small, obscure places in Central America that I so badly want to go back to. I want to go back and see my people, my family, my curly-haired nugget, or my favorite tienda owner, or my sweet Maria, or my Guate-mama, or to see that pink salon that was my refuge. My heart feels tethered to all these people that have made an impact on me and whose lives and stories I get to carry in the deepest parts of my heart, and whose joyful and light eyes, and beautiful smiles are imprinted in my mind. I tell you these stories because they are the only ones I know and the only ones I have the right to tell. I hope that you will find your own stories with your own beautiful and strange characters and plot twists. I believe that these notes might unmask the tiny sparks of hope masquerading as ordinary life in your corner of the world. The world is alive and inviting us to get up and dance to the music that’s playing if we bend all the way down and put your ear to the ground to listen for it.
Con mucho amor,
Meg
