Guiding our footsteps

If I am being honest with you, I have felt like I have been lost the past month- wondering, around looking for what God wants me to do. Asking Him, no begging Him to show me where I am going what I am doing. I was brought to complete frustration in the fact that I didn’t know why I was here.
 
Last night, I realized that a good portion of my team felt the same way. We all felt that we had not found where our ministry was supposed to be. Not that we don’t love the nursing home we visit, or the handicapped children’s, or the church and all we do through it. We just had not found our passion in Nicaragua.
 
Last night as we prayed, it became very clear in the hearts of all of us that we were to go somewhere we had never ventured.
 
So before I go into what happened today let me paint a picture of what Nicaragua looks like. My team has spent many hours in the Barrios, the neighborhoods surrounding the church. Most of these houses have one room, two if they are divided by hanging sheets or a mud wall. Many have cement walls and tin roofs and doors. It’s poverty, in a way not even imaginable in the states.
 
But what I saw today made those houses into shame. As we walked praying ever step of the way for God to guide us, we came to the dump, the awful smelling, muddy dump. When I say muddy, we are in the middle of a tropical depression, it has been raining solid for 3 days, its super muddy. Our feet are caked in mud just from the walk there. That’s when I lay my eyes on the first house.
 
Sticks leaning together formed the frame, the roof was pieced together from used sections of cardboard, covered in some places with ripped garbage bags. But here is what got me. My team walked up to the house and as the owner of the house greeted us, her eyes shown with a love that made my heart light up inside. We told we are missionaries and we wanted to tell her about Jesus love and pray with her. Without any shame at all she lead us into her cardboard house to pray with her and over her. Jesus had penetrated her heart, her house, her life so much that these privileged white kids were welcome into what she had to offer. What a testimony of Jesus’ awesome power!
 
As we said goodbye and promised to come again we headed up the road again, on the top of a hill where there was a women and her daughter were sitting. After a few minutes of conversation we discovered that she did not know Jesus and did not seem to know anything about the Gospel. Through broken Spanish we laid out for her that Jesus loves her. Please keep these people in your prayers. We will be back soon to keep showing them the love of Jesus Christ but they need hope!