Friday evening had come quickly this one week, and I had been so caught up in the business of my nursing job, that I forgot to check who had “tema” or worship that evening. As I was putting on my nice clothes for worship, I became curious as to who was going to speak. I looked at the schedule on my phone. To my dismay, I saw my name down. I had nothing planned with only 5 minutes until culto! I racked my brain for a story or lesson I could tell. Immediately, the thought of telling my personal story of the losses I had as a child came to mind. However, those of you who know me well, know that I do not share things like that easily. I quickly brushed the thought aside. As time ticked by, I kept trying to find another story, but I simply could not.

 

I finally decided to pray, I prayed, “God, if this is the story you want me to tell, make it so I can’t think of another story. And if this is your will, give me the strength to tell it.” Just in case, I looked up a correlating Bible story and passages. I walked to worship and sat down. I was hyperventilating, my hands were shaking, and I couldn’t think. I prayed one more time, “God if this is your will, give me peace.” As we finished singing the worship songs, my breathing slowed and I felt ready. I stood up to begin speaking, but immediately felt lightheaded, so I grabbed the stool I had been sitting on and brought it to sit on as I spoke. I opened with prayer and the story of Lazarus. I went on explaining how Jesus truly loved Lazarus, and his death was ultimately for the glorification of God. God never intended for us to die, but it is a result of sin. I then became shaky again as I began telling my own story, I sent up a silent prayer, again, for strength. I went on, saying that many of the kids listening have lost someone and that even if they cannot see the reason, God has a reason for everything. I made it through my worship talk, prayed, and took my stool to sit back in my spot. We sang to welcome the Sabbath and concluded worship.

 

After worship, I began to wonder why God had made me tell that story. No one seemed to have reacted to it or learned anything. I wondered if I had messed up my Spanish and not conveyed the lesson I was trying to get across. I brushed these doubts away and chose to have faith that God had a reason.

 

Later that evening, I was doing rounds and giving each house their needed medications and vitamins. As I arrived at the older girls’ house, the house parent asked if I could speak to one of her girls who had been crying that evening. She was concerned for her well-being and wanted someone with a wider Spanish vocabulary to speak to her. I agreed and called the girl over to speak.

 

At first, the girl just sat there with tears running down her face. At this point, I had forgotten about the worship talk I had given and was focused on figuring out what was bothering the girl. I am not someone who is skilled with words, in English or Spanish, but I tried my best to maintain the therapeutic communication I had learned in nursing school. Eventually, I was able to figure out what had set her off that evening. (As a side note, we had one of the SMs’ mom and dad visiting that week.) The girl told me that she had seen how happy the couple was together with their daughter, and how it had made her jealous that her family could not be like that. As she spoke, it reminded me of feelings I had at her age, seeing other kids with both their parents, happy. I told her this and tried to sympathize with her. I told her things that had brought me comfort. I told her that everyone has their own challenges, but it is what we do in those challenges that is important. We cannot try and get through things alone, because we can’t, no one can. It is God that gives us the strength. I then remembered my worship talk… this was the reason. I know God doesn’t always show His reasoning, but I am so glad He showed me that night.  

 

Now, a few months later, I was hugging this particular girl goodbye as I prepared to leave to the States, and she just started sobbing. Through tears and a shaky voice she said, “thank you for everything, thank you for teaching me how to be strong…”. She then slipped a note into my pocket and whispered into my ear, “no lo habres hasta que llegas a tu casa (don’t open it until you get home).”

 

When I first came to Rurrenabaque, I could not find a reason why God sent me here, but from hearing her few short words and nothing else, it was all worth it. I later read her note, and it was such a sincere thank you, and I could tell that God was working in her heart. There were a lot of tough times in Bolivia, as well as good ones. Sometimes, it was difficult to fathom the thought of living there for 9 months. But God willing, I did it. I was able to see God in such a real way. Not that I hadn’t before, but something about living in a different country, far from my “comfortable bubble” of friends, family, and familiarity, I learned how to truly give things to God and let go. In doing so, God was able to use me to reach kids, such as this girl. I praise Him for the opportunity he gave me these past 9 months and thank Him for the change He did in me and those I was around.