Last week I gave a sermon at my church in NY on my experience and showed some pictures. It was nice. I am posting that sermon, modified a little for reading sake to wrap up my adventurous year as a student missionary. Enjoy.
My New Life
Hugging my family and boyfriend good bye and boarding a plane to fly across the ocean, I felt ready for whatever Peru and a mission I knew little about held for me. But as I stepped off the plane in a little jungle town called Pucallpa and was assaulted by humid heat and the strongest sunshine I’ve ever felt, I was scared. Somehow amid my excitement, packing, and idealistic thoughts I overlooked the fact that this country would be very different from anything I had ever known and that in order to survive I was going to have to adjust to living without a lot of things I enjoyed, like electricity, a bed, and hot water. As these realizations hit me and I started to sweat in the dusty small airport surrounded by brown faces, jet black hair, and a language I didn’t know, my nine months of being a student missionary in Pucallpa, Peru began.
Loading my luggage into the bed of the mission’s dusty little Toyota Hilux and squeezing inside with Ansley, Carly, Tara, Laura, Kaitlin, and Kristin, little did I know that in those nine months I would learn more than I ever thought possible in so little time. God was to use this experience to reveal Himself to me in ways He hadn’t been able to before. I want to share three of these lessons with you today. First, when God is in charge we can do things we don’t feel adequate for. Second, being pushed past our breaking points is an opportunity for growth. And third, God calls us to do our best no matter what.
A couple weeks after our arrival, we had our first clinic week experience in Teodoro Vinder, a little neighbouring suburb of Pucallpa. And what an experience it was! By that time I had mastered a few words in the Spanish language and was getting comfortable using my limited vocabulary (and by limited I mean hello, how are you, and where is the bathroom). Due to this slight difficulty in the area of communication, I was put on blood pressure duty, which was a lot of fun. I got to practice my manual blood pressure skills and interact with patients, which is my favourite part of clinics.
After finishing up blood pressures I would float to pharmacy, and since I was a nurse, I had the privilege of giving penicillin shots. Basically, the medicine in itself damages tissue, so the point is to get it into deep muscle tissue, give the shot as quickly as possible, and do it perfectly – in theory. In reality, the medicine clots very easily, many times requiring us to stick the patients more than once to get all the medicine in. Not a fun thing, because besides damaging tissue the shot burns like crazy. A lot of our penicillin patients were children, since they are more prone to the nasty skin infections requiring such a shot. This made the job even more difficult. For these reasons, I absolutely dreaded giving them. I distinctly remember the day Tara, a cute little southern girl who wants to be a doctor and was part of our group from the states, popped her head around a sheet we were using as a wall and told me she needed someone to give a penicillin shot. That someone was me. Knees shaking and hands sweating, I made my way to pharmacy only to see the patient was a baby. Preparing the shot, I prayed my heart out between calculations, swabbed the little bottom, and punctured the soft skin. The needle clotted. I had to pull out. Normally if mom allows a second try, it is your last chance. She just can’t handle the sight of her child screaming in pain, so I knew I had only one chance left to get this poor little baby the medicine its oozing sores desperately needed. I cleaned and stuck one more time, praying with all my might that God would just let it work. And it did! The medicine flowed through the needle like water, and I was able to breathe again.
The situation may not seem like a big deal: things happen, life goes on. But for me it was a big step in God’s work in changing my life while I was in Peru. I will never forget that little story, because it showed me that no matter what, even if things don’t go how you want them to, or situations seem out of control, you can pray, give it all to God and He will take care of you.
When I do things I do them well, but if they are out of my comfort zone or I don’t feel adequate enough to perform them I let others do them instead. I realized in this experience that I am never going to be adequate enough for the things God is going to do with my life, and I don’t have to be. That’s the key: realizing that I will never “arrive” and that’s Ok, because God is in charge and He will hold my hand and grow me for every ministry, task, and call He has for my life.
The last thing I learned is that being pushed out of your comfort zone is an important thing for everyone to experience, because if you aren’t pushed you don’t grow. God knew I needed to grow in confidence and trust in Him, and allowed me to experience this situation so I could learn just that.
I encourage you to examine your own life, and look for the ways God has helped you grow. Think about situations and experiences you can look back on and appreciate because you can see God’s hand in them. Those are the experiences we should never forget, and the ones God wants to us to keep experiencing for the rest of our lives. Next time you face a situation you can’t handle, remember the penicillin shot, and pray. Then rest in the knowledge that He will answer that prayer.
After clinic week Kristin, the other nurse on our team, and I moved into our temporary home with a woman named Mariza and her family to begin our first health program with the people of Teodoro Vinder. Upon arrival we discovered our accommodations were nice, with a single bed for us to share, running water in the backyard, and electricity. Our hosts were a sweet, Adventist family, and did everything they could to make us feel at home. As we were instructed by Jenni and the Dr, we asked if their water was drinkable. “Oh, yes, yes,” they assured us, no problem. We were relieved, since during clinic, we had to boil our water and never seemed to get enough of it. However, as a few days passed, and we diligently filled our Nalgenes from the spigot, I thought it odd that Mariza always provided us with a pitcher of water in our room.
Waking up one morning a short time into our stay after a fitful night’s sleep in our hot mosquito net, I felt funny. My stomach hurt and was rumbling and cramping. As the morning wore on, I drank water and tried to settle it, only to discover when I visited the three-sided, open-aired structure they used as a toilet that what had been a loose stool the day before was now full fledged diarrhea. Kristin had it, too. At breakfast, our hosts noticed we weren’t eating much of our papaya and bread, and we told them why. They looked at each other with knowing expressions and told us it was because we were drinking the water without boiling it. Apparently, when they told us we could drink the water they assumed we knew this meant only after boiling it. Needless to say, I started drinking the water in the pitcher in our room.
We took medicine and the diarrea cleared up, only to be replaced by another, slightly different strain a couple weeks later, and yet a different, more aggressive diarrhea and vomiting after that. And so it continued, week after week, month after month: diarrhea. That dirty little word would haunt the next 4 months of my life and make everything, from performing simple daily tasks to continuing to facilitate programs very difficult, and gradually sapping my strength.
After our health program in Teodoro Vinder the team packed up and squeezed into two trucks that hauled us and all our stuff through the night 8 hours into the jungle on bumpy dirt roads to a little cocaine village along the Ucayali River called Constituccion. I stuffed my money in my bra, kept my light American hair covered, and prayed that the drug lords wouldn’t choose our truck to rob. They didn’t.
We arrived, held clinic week, and then the group loaded up, waved good bye, and headed out, leaving Kristin and I behind, looking forlorn and feeling lost, standing in the doorway of the open pavilion style Adventist church we were to call home. We were 8 hours away by land and more then 24 hours away by boat from all that was reassuring and familiar to us. Talk about scary.
I threw myself into our health program, using work as an opportunity to push my feelings of homesickness and loneliness down to the far corners of my heart. And it worked, most of the time. But there were days when the weariness of fighting a language barrier, constant diarrea, and lack of sleep wore me raw, and I was left with nothing to give. That’s when I turned to the Lord. Pouring my heart out, I told Him that unless He gave me strength, stamina, and a renewed spirit, I couldn’t go on. I had no more to give.
When I felt so lonely I thought my heart would break He sent a sweet little girl who wrapped me in her arms, or a smiling mother offering me food and friendship. When I was sick and needed someone to care He sent me Rosa, a short little lady who brought me tea and tender loving care. And, when I was so exhausted I thought I would die, He gave me a good night’s rest despite the roosters, loud music, and barking dogs. Each time I prayed, He heard me and gave me just what I needed to keep going. Just when I thought I had reached my limit, He broadened it.
When life is so hard we don’t know what to do, God knows. He knows our real limit, and He will stretch us to it, but not beyond, all the time thickening our skin and developing gifts in areas that would remain underdeveloped in other circumstances.
I’ve often heard the phrase, you don’t know until you try. That’s true. I encourage you to step out in faith, and when the going gets tough, reach out to God. Or better yet, before the going gets tough, develop a relationship with Him so that when you’re stretched beyond your limit He will give you whatever you need.
After a short, but amazing Christmas break, I dove into researching, typing outlines, and creating handouts for our new and improved version of the health program: classes. It was a big undertaking, but when our first day of classes rolled around in the little thatch-roof dotted village of Dos de Diciembre, I was ready for it.
10 women faithfully attended, and we had a great time together. We learned how to create a balanced diet for children, why water is so important, how to build sanitary latrines, why pills are not the cure all, how to detect breast cancer, why teeth rot, and how HIV is spread. We laughed, talked, sang, and prayed. We grew close to one another. At the end we proudly presented our women with their certificates of achievement, and they presented us with bags and bundles of sugar cane, papaya, mangos, and granadillas as going away gifts. It was perfect.
Time flew by, and before I knew it the end of March had arrived and we were beginning our last clinic and health program. The location was Nueve Era, a Chipivan village on the outskirts of Yarina Cocha. Things during clinic week went fairly smoothly, despite lots of rain and mud and having to fill in for Dr. Richard a couple days. The people seemed friendly and nice.
The week after clinic Kristin and I began visitations, walking from house to house inviting the families to join our health program, conducting evaluations, and signing people up for visitation times. In a space of two days we had visited the entire community and signed 40 families up, making it necessary to hold two separate classes. We were stoked. We had never had such an interest, and were excited to hold our largest program yet.
The day of our first class it was raining. Not good. When it rains, virtually the entire area is shut down, no one works, everyone stays home, and they certainly don’t attend health classes. When the rain passed we faithfully visited our families, informing them we would hold class tomorrow. Tomorrow came, and I set out to my 9:00am class excited about teaching and a little nervous that I wouldn’t be able to hold their attention with such a large group. But when I arrived there was no one there. I waited. 9:15, 9:30. I waited almost an hour, and finally three women trickled in. Discouraged, I consoled myself by saying that it was really muddy.
Next class day arrived on Thursday, and I prayed that there would be a better turn out than Tuesday. No such luck. In fact, no one showed up. Friday I visited, tried baiting the women with pictures from our handouts, reminded them we had a prize, and was extra nice. Tuesday, three women straggled in, this time at 9:30. Three just seemed to be my magical number. And so it continued for the rest of the program. No matter how much visiting I did, the women just seemed to have no time or interest for such a program. They were so nice, they talked and laughed and seemed to genuinely enjoy our company, but they just didn’t know how to attend class.
This was a tough experience for me. Compared to our first program it was like a mountain top to valley scenario. Everything had been going so well, it was working, we were making great steps forward, and then this. It was like we hit a brick wall and I couldn’t do anything about it. We eventually found out the Chipivan people are very artsy fartsy. They can make beautiful bead work, skirts, and pottery, but to sit down and learn something is a little hard for their ADD personalities. We learned that for this people the ideal program is a more hands-on, multi-sensory approach.
Sometimes life is like this experience. You throw yourself into something: school, work, or a relationship, only to find it disintegrating or blowing up in your face. Some things are out of your control. Going through these experiences in our health program taught me to do my best even when it doesn’t seem to be getting me anywhere, and to be flexible. I learned that we can do everything possible, but sometimes things just don’t go as well as planned, and that’s life. God can help us not to get discouraged and move on.
Before I knew it our program in Nueve Era came to a close. Our team spent the last few days in Peru together at km 38, enjoying one another’s company and packing for the return home. We had our last candle lit worship and early morning breakfast. Arriving at the airport we hugged and clung to one another saying teary good byes. And then it was over. Just like that, nine months of getting to know these people who are now family to me came and went, and I still don’t know how it can be over, really over. All I know is that I left a part of me with our team and the people of Peru. The things that land and culture taught me about love, hard work, friendship, hospitality, and true contentment I will never forget.
Before I left on my adventure I had a vague idea of the type of love God has for us, but a couple months into my trip He was finally able to reveal to my heart just how incredible, perfect, and redeeming that love is. I was staying in the most comfortable room Kristin and I shared while living in Peru, a little apartment in Yarina Cocha. For quite some time I had been struggling with a lot of bitterness and emotional pain. I repeatedly prayed about it, raking myself over the coals when it seemed my prayers weren’t working, and kept feeling the same way.
One Friday night, I was at my wit’s end. I had tried everything, only to cause more frustration and bitterness. So I finally opened up and really prayed. I poured my heart out to God, telling Him I was hurt and frustrated, and didn’t know what to do. I told Him I was angry with Him for not helping me when I prayed. And I told Him I was ready to give up, throw in the towel, and just stop trying to be the person I knew He wanted me to be.
That was exactly what He had been waiting for. After unloading all the burdens I was trying to carry, God gave me peace that everything was going to be alright, and exhausted, I went to sleep. The next morning I woke up early. I knew right away that God was trying to speak to me. I opened my bible to John 15 and read the story of the True Vine. As I read the passage and thought about what it means to abide in Christ, suddenly it all came clear to me. The words flowed over my soul like a healing spring, and God showed me how much He loves me.
As I thought back over my life, years of grappling with God and trying to do things right, it occurred to me that many times I found it easy to get caught up in what I thought I should do as a Christian. I would start feeling like I wasn’t good enough for God or it was too hard to live a Christian life, and give up or berate myself for not having devotions regularly or praying more. I thought that was what it took to be a good Christian.
As I lay on my lumpy mattress in our tiny room and the morning light peeked around our curtain, my mind was flooded with understanding. God is a God of love. He loves us wildly and unconditionally, because He made us just the way we are and knows us inside and out. We don’t have to worry about hiding our flaws and trying to be good. He knows them all, and He says “that’s Ok, you are perfect in me. I love you and I have always loved you and I always will.” His heart breaks when our feelings of regret, embarrassment, or doubt keep us from reaching out to Him. He is waiting. He is listening. His greatest joy and highest goal is to win our hearts back. He wants us to come home – back to where He always meant us to be – in His arms.
That day I finally accepted God’s gift of perfect life in Him. For the first time ever, I truly understood what it meant to be free from sin. The old had past away, and the new had come. As I prayed and asked God to take over my heart and life, I felt as though He was holding me in His arms. I was flooded with joy and peace, and I knew He had waited my entire life for that moment.
God worked in my life in some amazing ways while I was in Peru. I learned that with God’s leading I can tackle new, scary things with confidence and assurance. I learned that enduring challenges and difficulties I never thought I could is a blessing from the Lord. And, I learned that when I try my best and things still don’t go the way I want them to, I can trust God to take care of me.
Growing, maturing, developing, I have been stretched to my limit and then some, pushed to the brink and a little beyond. I am learning and changing more than I ever could have imagined. God is taking the person I was and molding and forming me into the person He always meant me to be. I praise the Lord for helping me find myself while serving Him in Peru.
Maybe you have experienced the joy of coming home to Jesus and enjoy the amazing knowledge that so few have found: that Jesus loves you, really loves you for just who you are. But my guess is that you struggle with this concept a lot. It’s not an easy thing for our minds to understand. Satan has dooped us into believing we are not worthy of what God has for us.
I encourage you to give God a chance. That is all He is asking for. Take time to realize that all He wants is you. Nothing more. He doesn’t want the you you want to be. He doesn’t want the you you should be. He wants the you He created and loves so much that He gave His only begotten son to die so that He would have a chance, a possibility, of being a part of your life. He has waited your entire life, knocking, hoping, guiding, loving, and looking for the chance to win your heart. Will you let Him?
Sometimes life is like this experience. You throw yourself into something: school, work, or a relationship, only to find it disintegrating or blowing up in your face. Some things are out of your control. Going through these experiences in our health program taught me to do my best even when it doesn’t seem to be getting me anywhere, and to be flexible. I learned that we can do everything possible, but sometimes things just don’t go as well as planned, and that’s life. God can help us not to get discouraged and move on.
Before I knew it our program in Nueve Era came to a close. Our team spent the last few days in Peru together at km 38, enjoying one another’s company and packing for the return home. We had our last candle lit worship and early morning breakfast. Arriving at the airport we hugged and clung to one another saying teary good byes. And then it was over. Just like that, nine months of getting to know these people who are now family to me came and went, and I still don’t know how it can be over, really over. All I know is that I left a part of me with our team and the people of Peru. The things that land and culture taught me about love, hard work, friendship, hospitality, and true contentment I will never forget.
Before I left on my adventure I had a vague idea of the type of love God has for us, but a couple months into my trip He was finally able to reveal to my heart just how incredible, perfect, and redeeming that love is. I was staying in the most comfortable room Kristin and I shared while living in Peru, a little apartment in Yarina Cocha. For quite some time I had been struggling with a lot of bitterness and emotional pain. I repeatedly prayed about it, raking myself over the coals when it seemed my prayers weren’t working, and kept feeling the same way.
One Friday night, I was at my wit’s end. I had tried everything, only to cause more frustration and bitterness. So I finally opened up and really prayed. I poured my heart out to God, telling Him I was hurt and frustrated, and didn’t know what to do. I told Him I was angry with Him for not helping me when I prayed. And I told Him I was ready to give up, throw in the towel, and just stop trying to be the person I knew He wanted me to be.
That was exactly what He had been waiting for. After unloading all the burdens I was trying to carry, God gave me peace that everything was going to be alright, and exhausted, I went to sleep. The next morning I woke up early. I knew right away that God was trying to speak to me. I opened my bible to John 15 and read the story of the True Vine. As I read the passage and thought about what it means to abide in Christ, suddenly it all came clear to me. The words flowed over my soul like a healing spring, and God showed me how much He loves me.
As I thought back over my life, years of grappling with God and trying to do things right, it occurred to me that many times I found it easy to get caught up in what I thought I should do as a Christian. I would start feeling like I wasn’t good enough for God or it was too hard to live a Christian life, and give up or berate myself for not having devotions regularly or praying more. I thought that was what it took to be a good Christian.
As I lay on my lumpy mattress in our tiny room and the morning light peeked around our curtain, my mind was flooded with understanding. God is a God of love. He loves us wildly and unconditionally, because He made us just the way we are and knows us inside and out. We don’t have to worry about hiding our flaws and trying to be good. He knows them all, and He says “that’s Ok, you are perfect in me. I love you and I have always loved you and I always will.” His heart breaks when our feelings of regret, embarrassment, or doubt keep us from reaching out to Him. He is waiting. He is listening. His greatest joy and highest goal is to win our hearts back. He wants us to come home – back to where He always meant us to be – in His arms.
That day I finally accepted God’s gift of perfect life in Him. For the first time ever, I truly understood what it meant to be free from sin. The old had past away, and the new had come. As I prayed and asked God to take over my heart and life, I felt as though He was holding me in His arms. I was flooded with joy and peace, and I knew He had waited my entire life for that moment.
God worked in my life in some amazing ways while I was in Peru. I learned that with God’s leading I can tackle new, scary things with confidence and assurance. I learned that enduring challenges and difficulties I never thought I could is a blessing from the Lord. And, I learned that when I try my best and things still don’t go the way I want them to, I can trust God to take care of me.
Growing, maturing, developing, I have been stretched to my limit and then some, pushed to the brink and a little beyond. I am learning and changing more than I ever could have imagined. God is taking the person I was and molding and forming me into the person He always meant me to be. I praise the Lord for helping me find myself while serving Him in Peru.
Maybe you have experienced the joy of coming home to Jesus and enjoy the amazing knowledge that so few have found: that Jesus loves you, really loves you for just who you are. But my guess is that you struggle with this concept a lot. It’s not an easy thing for our minds to understand. Satan has dooped us into believing we are not worthy of what God has for us.
I encourage you to give God a chance. That is all He is asking for. Take time to realize that all He wants is you. Nothing more. He doesn’t want the you you want to be. He doesn’t want the you you should be. He wants the you He created and loves so much that He gave His only begotten son to die so that He would have a chance, a possibility, of being a part of your life. He has waited your entire life, knocking, hoping, guiding, loving, and looking for the chance to win your heart. Will you let Him?
