Top 10: #2

  "Come on mommy, its time to go to see that truck! It is time to eat! What is taking you so long? Come onnnn mom!!"

  ... What if the truck is not there, what if they ran out of money to feed us, what am I going to tell my baby girl? How will she react when she sees that empty space, no one to feed us. No one to give her a morsel of food to hold her over until the next time they come. What if I have to dig through that dump again? What if the food is not enough? What if they bring so few, that my baby girl doesn't get any. What if? What if? What if... 

  These could be many of the numerous questions that run through a parents mind of a child in Nicaragua... I am unsure. But if I were in this situation, these would be my worries. What if? That questions always lingers near... what if those precious kids do not get any food for that day. That one strikes near my heart, as I continuously remember the faces of the children at the dump.
   Yes... that's right. The dump.
   The place where trash goes. The place that reeks of unimaginable smells. The place that animals scavenge. The place where you see vultures flying around. The place no human should live. The place no human should have to search to find food.
   That is where these people are. That is where these people camp out to see if maybe that truck will come. Mothers, fathers, children, and grandmas. All waiting to see if that one truck will come, if that one truck will bring them a morsel of food, just to fool their stomachs.
  The dump, where no human should even step foot in because of how many disease may be found their. Where children are walking through, to get to the truck that is bringing them food. The miles of dump that these people have to walk through from their village far away, just to get food.
This is poverty. This is sickness. This is sadness. THIS breaks God's heart.
This. Breaks. God's. Heart.

Do you want God's heart broken?
Or do you want to change the world for Him?
Me, I want to change the world... and that is what I will devote my life to. THIS is what I will devote my life to.
  As we pulled up to this place, there were no words I could think of to describe it, and months later it is still hard for me to form these words. We pulled up and there were kids running all around this vacant land. These kids who saw us, they smiled ear from ear, they were joyous, not happy, joyous. As we got out of the bus, we were told to help with materials. Then, words were spoken that we did not understand, and the kids began to form two lines, boys and girls, youngest to oldest. We were handed soap, water, and a towel, and told to wash their hands.
  Now imagine this happening in America. We would hand the kids the soap, wait, then hand them the towel. Right? Its that simple.
 Not in the most poverty struck part of Nicaragua, these kids had no clue how to wash their hands. Not an idea. Most likely because they have never had the opportunity to do it.
       " So, if I, the Master and Teacher, washed your feet, you must now wash each other's feet.  I've laid down a pattern for you. What I've done, you do. I'm only pointing out the obvious. A servant is not ranked above his master; an employee doesn't give orders to the employer. If you understand what I'm telling you, act like it- and live a blessed life." John 13:13-17
  We lived like Jesus. We served like Him. There are not enough words to express the feelings I had while washing these kids hands and watching my friends do the same, as well as hearing many of my friends tell each and every child "Jesus te amo." Jesus loves you.
  Although this was the hardest part of the trip, it was impact-full. It made me realize that His work is never done. That these kids, this country, needs Jesus more every year.
  As we continued to serve these kids, they went from washing hands to getting their food that some of our team prepared earlier at the feeding center. They were timid, because they did not know who we were, but they were joyous at what we handed them. As I stood back and saw my team dive into serving these kids, I took a moment to look at where we actually were. It was empty. There were no buildings or any sign of civilization in any direction. But, as I looked closer to where we were, I saw an old lady, maybe in her late eighties or early nineties, sitting on the grass. Waiting. As I looked at her, she just smiled at me. This smile took me aback, how can she be happy here? I was baffled. I went up to the leader in charge of distributing food and made sure it was okay if I took food to her, he gave me two bags of food and drink. I walked over there, and again her smile shown down upon me. She couldn't talk to me, nor I to her, but the smiles were enough exchange.
  After all of the food was given out, we went to see what the dump was, what these people had to walk through to get their food... As I described above it was awful. Something no human should be happy with. But as I looked pass the dump and the smell, I saw kids skipping, laughing, and running. They were not happy, they were joyous. Someone cared about them, someone loved them. Jesus loves them. They do not care about all those little things that are in life, they are just joyous. They now have food in their tummies and are going back home to play. They are alive another day. The parents are smiling because the truck came... it came. It did not fail them, Jesus did not fail them. 

Top 10: #3

  When I was little, the one thing that brought me the most joy in my life were my baby dolls, every single one of them. I would take care of them as if they were real, because to me they were. I would feed them, change them, and make them take a nap in their crib. I would talk to them, carry them everywhere, take them on walks through my neighborhood: everything with my babies. These babies were my pride and joy when I was younger. And we all have that one object or person that we want to show off... just think about yours. Generally in America, it is a car, or a kid, or a big flat screen T.V, but for a little boy in Nicaragua, it is his notebook of Angry Bird stickers that he wants to show off to every foreign white person he sees after walking miles from his home to receive his one meal of the day... now hear me out, I will explain why this is so important to me. Actually, so important that it is my number three of my top ten moments on Nicaragua '14. 

     Every year, one of the things I look forward to when we step off that tiny plane into Puerto Cabezas is going to the feeding center. Since the first time I set foot into the feeding center, it captured my heart. The kids there generally cannot communicate with us because they do not speak one word of Spanish, let alone English. Most of them primarily speak Miskito, so the communication there is next to nothing. These kids are also not like the orphans back at base. The orphans at base are well taken care of, loved on, fed, and helped throughout life by Pastor Earl and his loving staff. The kids at the feeding center are not as fortunate as the orphans on base. These kids face starvation, endless disease, and they strive to help their families in any way possible. Most of them do not attend school because their families cannot afford to send them. These kids are the ones that people picture when they think of a child in poverty. With that, most people think these children would be bitter, selfish, sad, and damaged. They do not even come close to those characteristics. And this is why I love the feeding center, because the hearts of the children there are so big. They are hurt, they are starving, they deserve so much more then they are receiving as children of God, but they are filled with joy. They have endless joy because they are receiving a meal, they are filled with joy because someone is holding them, they are filled with joy because they are being loved, and they are joyful that they may own a book of Angry Bird stickers. Now we are back to my little buddy, number three on my list. 

   My little buddy, who sadly I did not learn the name of because of the language barrier, captured my heart. I was walking around playing with a lot of the kids in the feeding center when I saw this little three or four year old boy sitting at a table. The little kids generally catch my eye because I love that age. I went over and waved, knowing that not one word would be understood between me and this little boy, who I figured would soon run away and find his older sibling like most of the younger kids did. We just played around, messing with each other's hands and smiling, the only communication we needed. When he suddenly got up and tugged me with him. I followed this excited boy to a little bag that his siblings and him kept their bowls and plates in. He started

digging in this bag, maybe thinking he needed his plate soon... when suddenly he pulled out this little notebook. He opened it up, turned to his favorite page, and pointed to a page filled with angry bird stickers, and looked up at me with a big smile. And I reflected that right back at him. The pride on his face that he owned these stickers, that they were his, was unbelievable. I have never seen someone so proud of something, especially something so little. (He is the little boy in the blue shirt). 

  

   Why are we not as proud as this little boy with the little things we have in life? Who are we to demand the big things? We could have just as well been placed in this little boys shoes, with nothing but a book of stickers. Why do we need to have a thousand possessions to be proud of? Why can't we be proud of the little things in our lives? God provides us with so much but yet we fail over and over to notice the green grass on the ground and the sun in the sky, the little things he has provided us with. I look around America today and see three and four year olds with their noses in a tablet or ipod, what happened to giving them stickers? Dolls? Anything that they should be responsible for, to take care of, something that they can have pride in. Something that is not a materialistic possession, but that we possess true pride in having. We take so many things for granted, but when I remember my little buddy, I have to remind myself to take time out of my day, and appreciate everything, even an Angry Bird sticker.