Costa Rica, baby...

Sunday August 7th, I heard about a Costa Rica trip that the youth down here was about to embark on. Three days later, I was on a bus with ten other people who I either didn't know or barely knew. It was a God thing that I was able to go in the first place... they'd been planning the trip for weeks while I found out about the trip literally the day before the bus tickets needed to be bought. It seemed spontaneous to me, but I think that God was having fun planning it out.

The ride to Costa Rica wasn't exactly the greatest experience of our lives. We got on the bus (which was very nice, by the way... there were TVs and AC and comfortable chairs and curtains, more than I'd expected) at seven in the morning and drove to the Nicaragua border. Got out of the bus, stood around for no reason at all, got back on the bus. Repeat for the Costa Rica border. The only difference with the Costa Rica border was that we loaded our stuff on the bus, got in... sat for AN HOUR FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER without moving, and then was told that oops, we were on the wrong bus and we had to get off and unload and reload and get on. Ugh. We didn't make it to San Jose until long after sunset.

We stayed with an older American couple who've started a Vineyard church. Helping us was also Julie and Steve, both Americans, and David from Nicaragua. It was fantastic to find people that I could safely speak English to, and that's a huge part of the reason why I was able to cope the entire trip.

Thursday August 11th, we went into the city for street ministry. We were accompanied by many other youth from the local Vineyard, and it was fun and intimidating to go in such a huge group. We played worship music in the park and wandered the streets in small groups praying for people.

The longer the morning wore on, the more frustrated I became. There I was, surrounded by people I didn't know, trying to pray for more people we didn't know, in a language I don't know. I desperately wanted to reach out and pray, but the others were too busy talking with the people to interpret for me what was going on and what was being said. All I felt like I could do was lay a hand on the person while the others prayed for difficulties I didn't know about.

I was in a filthy mood by the time everyone met up at the park again. In my head, I was screaming insults at every single person around me that knew what was going on. I was spectacularly furious with myself for having brought myself upon this stupid trip and at everyone else for seemingly not having any compassion for me. Walking up to the half of the group that was sitting and listening to the music, I saw an old homeless man sitting closely nearby so there was no room for me to sit in the group and pretend I fit in. Of course not. I stood there and fumed.

Suddenly the homeless man attracted my attention. He had moved over away from the group and was motioning that he'd made a place for me to sit. "Gracias," I said, forcing a smile on my face. I sat between him and the group and tried to calm down.

I felt someone poke my shoulder. Glancing over, I once again saw the homeless man who was trying to say something. The first thing I noticed was that...of course... he'd said it in Spanish so I had no idea what he'd said. The second thing I noticed was that even if I did know Spanish, it would've been hard to interpret anyways because his voice was a raspy whisper.

I summoned over the American guy we were staying with (I don't remember his name... Rodney?) to help me out. Rodney spoke with him the best he could before beckoning Julie over to pray for him. Turns out the guy had gotten a surgery on his throat so he couldn't speak very loudly. If he'd have been any quieter he would've been mute. We laid hands on him, prayed for him, and this time I was slightly pleased because I actually knew what to pray about.

However, I kept noticing that the man kept glancing up at me. Every time our eyes met, he would smile wide, even while he was talking to the others. He also kept pointing at me, referring to me as "chica". I had no idea why he kept mentioning me and if that was a good thing or not.

Eventually Julie interpreted: "He says that he was sitting there surrounded in darkness, and when you walked up--" she pointed at me "--he says the darkness fell away."

I sat there, stunned. How the... what... how could that have happened, especially while I'd been in such a bad mood? How come I had never known what an impact God could use me for? I sat and pondered this for several minutes.

It was almost time to go so I stood. Suddenly I didn't want to leave this elderly man alone, and when I looked back he blew me a kiss. This time my smile was genuine.

He surprised me again by waving at one of our company who had a camera, gesturing for her to take a picture of both of us. I wish I could say I had the picture on my own camera and/or that I had the picture with me at this exact moment, but I don't yet. I wish.

Out of all the things I've experienced this week, I have to say that particular moment impacted me the most. It showed me that God can work with anything, even people who don't speak the right language and who are in horrible moods and who are homeless and can hardly talk. I wish I could tell that man that he helped me a lot more than I could've ever done for him.

To be continued tomorrow, due to extreme sleepiness. Keep checking back!