It's the snotty nosed street kids.
It's the wild dancing.
It's the stench of the dump.
It's the soccer games near the volcano.
It's the bike rides around town.
It's the nacatamal.
It's the clapping until my hands hurt.
It's the grinning mothers.
It's the crafty fathers.
It's the innocent teens.
It's the toothless old folk.
It's the screaming guinea.
It's the exciting screams of the children.
It's the conversations with drunkards.
It's the silence of the night.
It's the waves of the lake.
It's the deep traditions.
It's the hungry bellies.
It's the silly games.
It's the overjoyed welcomes we receive.
It's the desperation in the voices.
It's the deep conversations.
It's the rusty Spanish.
It's the rooted love of the people.
It's the hopelessness in their history.
It's the hope in their eyes.
It's the country crying out for more.
It's the personal stories.
It's the beautiful creation of God.
These are the things that give me an
overwhelming sense of joy as I prepare to return.
The dirty children at the train station.
The church lighting up the streets.
The old folks forgotten.
The abandoned students with special needs.
The stinky dump inhabitants.
The drug addicts in the fields of green.
The hope that Jesus brings.
Nicaragua is ours – in Jesus name!
Let's go claim it!
Travel with me (via blog or social media) to Granada, Nicaragua
as we minister from March 6th to March 15th.
Learn their names.
Know their stories.
Fight for their lives.
Breathe life into their bones.
"You can, just follow me…" -Jesus
