Messy Ministry

Ministry, just like life, gets messy. Today we went to the border of Costa Rica and Nicaragua, sharing about our God who gives hope to the hopeless.

The camp had 1200 residents from Africa and Haiti who have left their home country, to find a better life.
The population changes every night.

All they have is the clothes on their backs and what they could carry.

I learned that when you ask God to use you, be prepared for how he chooses.

And that He has all the details planed out.
Not me.

Nothing surprised Him today.
But it did me.

My plan A, or back up plan b, or c,d,or e didn’t happen.
It kind of went sideways.

At the peak of our event, the sky opened up and poured! Hard pouring rain.
Noah’s ark rain
(Slight, ever so slight exaggeration)

So today ministry was messy.
very messy.
And wet.
And muddy.
And challenging.
And heartbreaking.

Not heartbreaking because things didn’t go as planned, but heartbreaking seeing so many desperate people with physical needs, that we couldn’t meet today.

Having people leave empty handed, is hard to process.

It was hard to explain that today’s event was about ministry to children.

It is hard to see so many desperate people with such immediate physical needs.

That you can’t provide.

Processing how things turned out versus how they were planned, was hard.

But my friend reminded me that “God does not call us to be successful, He calls us to be obedient”.

And how are we to judge what success is when we see the physical here and now, and he sees the spiritual and eternity.

So did my hand made Christmas sign in French get put up? No.
Did the French Christmas music get played.
So did all the little children sit in nice rows from youngest to oldest in color co-ordinated areas?
Did I get to sit by the children as they opened their boxes and see their sweet little faces?
Um big fat no.

Did we distribute Christmas gifts in the pouring rain, stomping through mud puddles?
But did the story of salvation get preached?
Did 4 of the cutest little children ever stand in front of Aunt Mary the entire time listening to the story, and then Dance in the rain?
Did the pregnant women know people in this country and my home country know that people are praying for them and care about the journey they are own?
Did we have time to listen to the stories of their journeys through raging rivers, months of walking, bus rides, and flights, then hearing how some of their friends that didn’t survive?
Did my mother-in-law have women waiting in a line to be prayed for?
Did hundreds hear the name of Jesus today, in at least 4 languages.
Yes, and amen.

These are the things that I will remember today.


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