Uninvited "Visitors" (August 12, 2010)

I left early today to meet up with Artie's team at Hermano Pedro.  I had so many kids working with me at one table that the nurse in charge of the children's unit actually went and got me a second table from another area so more kids could work with me.  I stood amazed at this blessing, as a few weeks ago I was not sure how the nurses would respond to me setting up activities for the kids.  This showed me that at least some of them were not just tolerating my work with the children, but actually beginning to support it.  Thank you, God, for answered prayer.

This part of today's journal is a difficult for me to write.  Shortly after I began working with the kids this morning, Mari called me to tell me the house had been robbed, and my computer, photo-printer and back-pack had been taken.  I raced home (thank you, Chris, for the ride) to find Mari nearly hysterical.  What had been taken from me was insignificant compared to what the family lost.  Two computers, clothes, bedding, a stereo, and, believe it or not, a papaya and a bag of pork chops thawing on the counter! Mari was most concerned, however, over whether or not the students had lost anything.  The only thing taken from any of the students was an Ipod from one of the rooms. 

After the police came and examined the roof (how we thought the robbers had gotten in), they said they were pretty sure that the buglars had entered through the front door.  I was somewhat surprised at the fact that four National Police officers responded to this call, and really did take a lot of time questioning the neighbors to see if they had seen anything.  Mari, forever gracious and hospitable, fed them lunch before they left.  (What exactly is the proper ettiquette for storing an officer's machine gun while he's at the table? They were even kind enough to pose for a picture with a couple of students.  This was not the kind of "service" I expected from the police in this country, who often are not the most honest people around.

Later in the afternoon, a "detective" from the Office of Public Ministry came with more police officers to take more information.  I know much of this involvement was due to the fact that there are North American students living in this house.  If every robbery in Antigua was investigated this thoroughly, they'd have to triple the size of the police force.

Officer Donis talking with Artie, Hannah and Josh

(I have spent much time with police in this last week.  Tuesday, two of the National Police accompanied us while we distributed food, and I even got to share the gospel with a very kind officer named Donis.  He told me all his family were Christians, but he was "lost."  It was a delight to tell him that Jesus was looking for him, and he was very open to the gospel message.  Chris also had an opportunity to pray for this gentleman, and I'd ask you to hold him in prayer.  It is not easy to be both a police officer and a Christian in this environment.)

Even amid this, I see God's provision.  No one was in the house when the robbers came (of course, they probably were watching to see that no one was home, but it still is a blessing).  I usually stay home Thursday mornings when Mari and Refugio (our housekeeper) go to the market, but today, because the team was in, I went to Hermano Pedro early.  I'm not sure what I would have done if I'd been home--there's no such thing as a back door here in Antigua!  Through this, God has kept me calm beyond belief, and the police have noticed this and have asked me why I'm not more upset, since most North American's are when robbed.  I can only explain to them that all I have belongs to God, and that I trust He will provide whatever I need.  They look at me like I'm from Mars, but they've heard the truth.  And, as Felipe, one of my housemates jokingly said at supper, "You can't steal Jesus' computer without consequences."  So in a very real sense tonight I have the opportunity to pray for my "enemies."

Has this changed how I feel about living in Guatemala?  Not in the slightest.  I knew the risks coming down here, and I also know the risks living in the States.  In reality, no where is safe.  But if we concentrate on the risks, we become overwhelmed with fear--and are of no use to God.  After it's all said and done, I know that the safest place for me to be is in the center of God's will for my life.  And I know that for now, at least, that's right here in Guatemala.

Prayer of St. Terese of Avila