Notes from Nicaragua: Part 1

Nicaragua: July 2006
It was an amazing trip.
The team we went with was great!
(One of the team members was on their first mission trip and is now an international missionary with his family on the other side of the world! Hi, Matt!)
The first day there our 4 1/2 year old daughter met a Nica girl the same age named Francella. Francella didn't speak a lick of English and our Punka didn't speak a lick of Spanish. I followed them around for a day or so before I realized that Punka was safe.
Actually, I didn't realize that.
Our interpreter pointed it out to me.
The church (like most other buildings and homes in the city) was surrounded by a 6 foot tall cinder block wall. There were gates/doors on either end of the front wall. One entrance was locked at all times. At the other gate sat 2 older men with machetes. When the school kids, church visitors or delivery men would need entrance, these guys would open the gates for them to enter. At one point, Punka and Francella went to the "playground" (a swing set with the grass up to their chins!) and one of the gatekeepers followed them over. He started cutting the grass near them.
I commented on it.
I can't remember exactly what I said.
Something to the effect of, "Oh, he's cutting the grass!"
The interpreted said, "No, he's looking for snakes."
"Oh." Keep calm? No.
I was headed over to tell Punka to come out of the area when the interpreter told me the church employs a guard around the clock.
A guard.
One at a time.
They usually trade off days and nights.
"Why are they both here?"
"Because your daughter is here. Don't worry. She is safe."
O.K.
Don't
Worry
She
Is
Safe.
Repeat.
Repeat again!
Breath.
Basically, it came down to this: One guard followed the girls around all day, keeping his distance, but close enough to keep an eye on them. The other guard was at the gate that was to be used for the day. They were safe.
And Punka had the time of her life that week.
And, Mommy relaxed to watch God move and grow a little closer to Him.
A lot of people asked us what a 4 year old could learn on a mission trip.
My answer: A LOT!
God showed me that he can work through any one with a willing heart to love others as He loves them.
Punka and Francella swung on the swings.
They helped paint the inside of the church offices.
They kept the guards busy.
I'm sure they lost a few pounds.
They colored in coloring books and played "barbies".
They laughed.
They shared secrets.
It was good.
One day about mid-week, I walked up to them as they were playing in the main area. Francella said something (in Spanish) to Punka. Punka looked at her and said, "tokie shutaki naner boo nosie. blah, blah, blah." They both laughed and took off running to the swings. I was left there wondering what had just happened.
Francella doesn't speak English.
Punka doesn't speak Spanish.
But, they understood each other.
They had another language they spoke.
It was the language of the heart, laughter.
You see, even though we may not speak the same language, we feel the same things.
And love ties us together.