día del niño Jesús/ día de los milagros

i know it's been a year since i went on this trip. but now it's January again, and i have friends on this year's Lighthouse trips to India, Paraguay, Ethiopia, Guatemala, the Czech Republic, and again in Ecuador. over the course of last semester, as those teams were preparing, i was blessed to be invited to share with the India team about aspects of the culture they will be encountering, and with the Ecuador team about the ministry sites they will be visiting. a lot of memories came flooding back and hopefully something or other i said could have empowered them just a little more to do what they are called to do well, and to learn and experience and pray and love as much as they can... but here are some stories i haven't told in a long time...

the first day in the title is an actual Catholic festival day that fell on my second day in Cuenca; the second is the following day, which i christened myself after a certain series of events occurred, which i will describe...

Saturday afternoon was when we arrived in the city and went home with our host families. i was a little unsure of myself and my Spanish, but immediately felt secure and comfortable with my new mother, Rocio (or Chio), my new father, Patricio, my new little 11-year-old brother, also named Patricio but mostly called Pato (which means 'duck'), and my new 13-year-old sister, named Carolina but shortened to Caro. they all made me feel like a special duckling, safe under their collective wing

Saturday evening, after a tiny bit of settling into my room and giving the gifts i had brought to my gracious hosts, they took me back to church for a college-age youth meeting, where i met some new people who greeted me with hugs and cheek-kisses, and listened, semi-lost, to the devotions given by the youth leaders and the discussion going on, which got partially translated into my ear by mi amigo Paquico, a Cuencano friend who goes to Taylor. but the main lesson i took away was the fact that 'la plancha needs to be plugged in'--as in, if an iron is not connected to the power source, you can run it over and over your shirt but it will make no difference! just as we can do all kinds of work, even work serving the church and community and doing 'spiritual' things, but it will be useless unless we are connected to God, the source of all life and power y amor

Sunday morning i was almost late for church, mi hermano Pato walked me there, i was so disoriented! sat alone but greeting time was sweet, all hugs and cheek-swish-smooches, stood up with the Lighthouse team to be introduced as visitors, wonderful worship time though most of the sermon swooshed over my head--afterward, i asked mi mami Chio to explicarme and came a little clearer to a message of inclusiveness and the need to serve and love those of low socioeconomic status, because there are many in the church who are middle and higher class and hesitate to associate with, much less humble themselves to serve anyone of darker color or emptier bank account. oh how the american church needs to be convicted of this, too

i helped in kitchen for lunch, i think my little brother taught me to make papaya juice from fresh papayas and my mom was making some kind of soup, maybe some fried plantains with cheese, and some flavorful rice, all so good. then piled in the car for a family outing to el Parque de Paraiso, played volleyball and soccer and marveled over the rainbow clock tower and raced Pato up and down the colorful jungle gyms and joined him in collecting bugs named Max and Emily and Pedro, and we all took turns trying to toss the volleyball into a garbage can from 20 feet away--the other family members tried so many times, and then, by some miracle, my only throw happened to go in! and then i had to fish it out of the trash bin, laughing hysterically ;-)

on our way home, we stopped at la heladeria, i was clueless as to what to get, so they just got me a cappucino helado with chocolate and coconut and whipped cream, and while we waited, we watched out the door to see the parade go by of kids dressed up as little kings and princesses on backs of trucks with random blankets draped across them to make the floats, and fireworks going off to celebrate the boy Jesus

so tired

Monday morning orientation to Ecuadorian culture by a missionary who had lived there for 18 years--event vs. time orientation, people vs. task orientation, non-crisis vs. crisis orientation, all kinds of other characteristics in contrast to american culture, as well as some national and local history and explanation of their ministry and the state of the Ecuadorian church

Mami worked as an administrator at the church offices, so after our meeting i waited and went home with her, helped with lunch, and for our team's afternoon outing she drove me across town, stopping a few blocks from La Nueva Catedral, a street marked by grafiti and milling with indigenous people selling hats, and we got out of the car and walked a couple blocks and she gave me her cell phone number to enter into mine before we met the group on the steps and she said adios, call me when you're done, tight hug and she was gone

walking tour of town, the cathedrals and parks and cobblestones and panoramic views, i made a new amiga Omayra who wore high heels and lagged behind but we got along so well, had my first seriously comfortable conversation completely in Spanish, even touching on spiritual topics of our shared faith! ending at the same heladeria as the day before, where i savored one scoop of el sabor de mora and laughed in fellowship with my team and our tour guides-fast-becoming-friends...but eventually people started getting picked up by their parents or arranging to take taxis together

waiting, calling Chio, not getting through, seeing others off and suddenly turned around and realized that, by accident--i was the only one left behind! desperation, calling all numbers i had in my phone, and finally one of our team leaders okays taxi-taking on my own. so i flag one down and give the direction 'Feria Libre' to the weathered but friendly old driver. caught sight of a simple wooden cross swinging in dashboard but, unsure of the safety of this part of town, i kept quiet and laid low and looked out the semi-darkened windows at the sunset dusk and streets speeding by

we stop on a busy big road that looks nothing like my home street. no, no, my broken Spanish asks for residential area, says i can't get out here, please keep going, numero uno Feria Libre? a few turns around the area but nothing recognizable, until finally, maybe, on a small side street we creeped past a red sign with white lettering for 'Cabina Telefonica', and a neighborhood gym, but i wasn't familiar or sure enough yet to say with certainty that i was in the vicinity of home, so we swung around that cul de sac and then--

oh the glorious moment when my phone rang, i heard Chio's crackly voice and gave it over to the taxi driver, and her directions got me to the church offices where she was still working. oh what a burst of inner rainbow to finally recognize a building, to see her face stick out the window and hear her voice asking if i was all right, anita, todo bien?

he ripped me off majorly on the fare but i was in no mood to contest it, just wanted to get out of there. once i stepped out, closed the door and leaned down the window, i said 'you have a cross there--have you given your life to Jesus?' and he gave a big grin and nod before he drove away, who knows whether he really meant yes but at least he has that reminder that may one day pierce his heart with the fullness of God's love if it hasn't already or if it doesn't daily

relief finally in my mom's presence, under the shadow of her capable wings. 'OUR GOD IS GRANDE' were the only words i could manage after straining to tell the story to her on our way home. while a crisis outlook would say 'you should have been prepared! you should have checked and double-checked that phone number! you should have been more careful on the streets alone at night! you should have known the more specific address for your house! you have to make a plan right now so this doesn't happen again!', instead a non-crisis outlook would say hey, it's over and God took care of me and we don't need to dwell on it too much or for too long and just keep trusting in Him--and i agree

so i kicked fear's butt by walking to la panaderia to buy bread with Chio at 10 pm through some shady neighborhoods and along a rushing main road which happened to be the main Feria Libre, off of which my family lived on a smaller side street, which actually was the one with the gym and the 'cabina telefonica' sign! what a wonder. ah well. dogs in heat trailed along and checked us out...un borracho, drunk guy stumbled by and called out "gringita, gringita!" both ways there and back...

but sweetest conversation with mi madre about missions and ministry and how God calls us to be where we are and do different things in the body of Christ. she has dreamed of going to India as a missionary someday. she seems to love supporting other people's dreams, though. her husband's business, her children's education, the church's ministries, the visiting Taylor students, even to my hopes of missionary work and following wherever God leads. she has been blessed with such a giving and shepherding spirit, and i am so grateful for the privilege of being one of her 'hijitas'

so it was a day of miracles, of seeing God's hand of protection and provision, of sharing dreams small and short-term as well as long-range, deep and wide and eternal. a day of finding unity and peace even through such distressing departure from expectations and separation from familiarity as i went through.

pray for the taxi drivers. for the drunk guys. for the little boys and girls dressed up like ragged royalty. for the flower-sellers, the ice-cream vendors, the friendless and lost and downtrodden. like the ones the boy Jesus grew up with, the ones he ministered to with his miracles.

praise for the miracles he still performs.
praise for his powerful love that transforms.
pray that we all would go beyond the norms
and give shelter to those with no homes in the storms
para siempre y todos los dias

and that's just TWO DAYS of todo lo que pasó!
que Dios les bendiga, amigos
paz