when goodbyes arent “see you laters”

What’s up blog. I’m so sorry it has been so long. A lot has happened. Yesterday was my last day of ministry here in Costa Rica. Time flew by and honestly I didn’t think it would affect me that much, but I cried like a little baby when I left. My eyes still hurt. Here’s why:

Here’s a quick rundown of our ministry if you haven’t read my other blogs. Our ministry is located in Carpio, a slum located in between a landfill and a polluted river. Carpio has gained the title of one of the largest and most dangerous slums in Central America. Our specific ministry is called Rendezvous. Renevous is a small gated oasis on top of a hill. Kids often come to play soccer, get tutored and just get out of the busy streets that they spend their days in. However, when my team came to serve at Renevous there was an increasing amount of refugees from Nicaragua that had recently entered the community, so to meet that need we started a program for the refugees. Women and children would come and hang out with us in the afternoons. We would play with the kids, do crafts with the women and at the end of the day give them a much needed hot meal. We did this for 3 months. Every Tuesday through Friday we would spend hours on the bus to hang out with however many women and children would show up that day. I loved the ministry, but honestly I got discouraged quickly. I was on the half of my team working with the women everyday.I wanted so badly to just sit and talk with these women. I wanted to talk to them about my life and vice versa. However, the language barrier was very large and discouraging. I didn’t think I was making an sort of impact. The most interaction I would have with them was when I taught them english and they would laugh at my bad spanish pronunciation. So, honestly for the first 2 ½ months I thought my work there was useless.

Fast forward to this week. This week was the last week of ministry. One of the things we wanted to do before we left was walk around Carpio. We aren’t allowed outside of the gate due to how dangerous it is, so the only glimpse we had seen of the massive city was the walk from our bus stop to the gate. The women learned that we wanted to see the city so one of our women, Maritza, offered to bring us to her house. She spent all day cleaning her house for us, and that afternoon all of us women and children included made the long walk to the river to see her home. In that moment, something clicked for me. We made a huge impact on these women and children. They truly love us and we truly love them, they are our friends. Hanging out with them and going to their house was not a scheduled ministry for us, our host wasn’t even with us. It was just a group of friends hanging out and going to a friends house. As we walked around Carpio, they protected us like we were their own children, surrounding us and scaring off any men that even thought about approaching us. It was dangerous, but none of of were scared because we knew that these women loved us so much that they would defend us with everything they had. When we got to Maritza’s house, she brought us inside and showed us around her house with pride. Her house was the size of maybe a walk in closet. She only had a bed, a stove and a fridge. In this moment something else clicked for me, and that was the necessity of this program. Half of her Christmas decorations were ones that we had made at Renevous with her. Crafts that I dismissed as honestly just a way to kill time were some of the only things in her house. The place in which we hung out which I dismissed as just a few buildings and a soccer field is huge when you spend half of your time in a dark closet with 3 rowdy little boys. Those little boys need just space to run around. Maritza needs somewhere to even just sit that isn’t dark and discouraging. This program has made more of an impact than I can even imagine.

So, here’s why I bawled my eyes out when I left.

I had to say goodbye to my friends. People that despite the language barrier, I had created a tight bond with. I cried when Nancy told me that after the Nicaraguan government had killed her daughter, God gave her 8 new ones. I cried when Maritza told me that we are the people getting her through the hard transition of escaping from Nicaragua. I cried when we went to Veronicas house to see her new baby. I cried when Maria told me she was so thankful for the english classes. I cried when she texted me a day later with our inside jokes, and that she loves me so much and misses me already. I cried when my good friends walked out of the gate and I knew there was no way I could ever see them again. I cried when I realized that i underestimate the power of God and how he can use me when I don’t even realize it.

I am so thankful for my time here in Costa Rica and the friends I have made, and I want to do it again in Africa, but I am still not fully funded. I am so thankful for everyone that has supported me to get me this far. Genuinely, thank you so much. I still need $5000 by the end of December to stay on the field. Lives are being changed here on the field. The kingdom is being expanded everyday. This is not about me, this is about Him. I hate asking for money, but the Lord wants me here and I know he will provide, so if you feel called to support me, thank you. If you don’t, thank you for even just following my journey.

See you in Africa!