Following up on your short-term trip

How many of us have been a short-term mission trip and had a similar experience? During our brief time, we connect and bond, but then we leave and feel the angst of returning to our lives of abundance, leaving behind people whose lives continue on in poverty. We need to lift them up in prayer and find ways to continue to connect with them. They continue to struggle with life and death issues long after we leave and many of them continue to carry us and our experiences with them in their hearts. Stephanie returned to Nicaragua after a year and a half. Here’s her story:

The Mohica family has been alive in my spirit ever since I meet them 1 ½ years ago on the skirt of the Diriamba dump. Through the smoke of the burning trash, this family stood as a beacon of hope in the midst of despair. I prayed that the Lord would reunite us one day soon, and that day was last Saturday around 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I walked the maze of streets like it was only yesterday. The route from the town square to their rusty, corrugated metal home is forever etched in my mind. The path will not be erased: paved roads, down and up a steep ravine, through a neighborhood of cobble streets, take a right and then a left, follow the dirt road as it curves around the dump. The smell of burning trash is no longer a memory, but a stench that fills my nostrils and points me in the right direction. As I come to the edge of their property, a mangy dog comes to great me. I step through their barbed wire fence and soon see faces curiously watching this gringa draws near. I take a few steps closer as I yell, “Hola. Me recuedas?” (Do you remember me?) A few faces remain blank while others begin to register the reunion that is about to take place.

A few more kids, teenagers and adults emerge from their makeshift houses. But I do not see him. I do not see the pillar of this family – Adolfo Mohica – the grandfather and prayer warrior. What instantly pops into my head is that he might have died. I know this is harsh, but I also know it is reality here in Nicaragua. I reluctantly ask the 30ish year old son who is bringing out two broken, plastic chairs from inside their home, “Aldolfo esta aqui?” I sit and my body tenses as the son pauses and looks around the yard. I hold my breath, honestly expecting the worst. The son points towards the dump and my fears vanish as I see Aldolfo emerge from the trash. A huge smile appears on his face as he spots me. He walks over and gives me a hug.

Karle, Mario and Carlos – three grandchildren – timidly approach my chair. They want to come close, yet time has put a tinge of hesitancy in their step. I hold out a family picture of them with Tim and myself that we took last year. (picture above) “This is for you,” I tell them as I hold it out for them to grab. Their curiosity gets the best of them and they eagerly gaze at the picture. They look at the picture and then at me, back at the picture – pointing and laughing – back at me. Hugs follow for all as the memory of last year replaces fear.

They proudly introduce me to their prized, 6 months old pig. Adolfo reappears and pulls up another chair. He has taken a shower for his long lost guest. I ask him how his family has been this last year. He beckons for Carlitos, his 5 year old grandson, to come to where we are sitting. He lifts up Carlos’s red shirt that reveals two large, deep scars across his abdomen. Carlos gazes as me with his large brown eyes. They captivate me. There is something very special about this little boy. I can sense it before Adolfo even begins to tell it..

Last year Aldolfo didn’t let go. He fought for the precious life of his grandson. Last December, Carlos fell off a motorcycle and about died. His abdomen area got pretty beat up and he fell into a coma. He remained in the hospital for days… really only awaiting death.

The prayer warrior called in the troops and the Mohica family got on their knees before the Lord for days on end. They were not giving up because they knew they served a God of life and healing. They would not let go.

One afternoon, Carlitos’s nurse entered his hospital room and was immediately taken aback. There above his bed were two angels and a man who she believes was Jesus. She fled the room out of fear, but when she returned, Carlitos was awake. He continued to improve and was released from the hospital.

Adolfo knew His God was faithful and would return his grandson. And today, Carlitos is a living testimony of the Lord’s healing power. I rejoiced with them and we all gathered together to pray right then and there. Because of God’s faithfulness, today many of the teenage boys in the family are also on fire for the Lord.