Early the next morning, we returned to the school in Montalvo and it was incredible! The morning, pretty much, followed the same format as the day before: the Ecuadorians performed a puppet show and we helped with a craft. On this day we made the salvation bracelets with a colored bead to represent each part of redemption and growth. The most fun part of my day began after the craft when we had time to take the kids outside and play. Three of the girls, Susana, Maria and Marta, were outside playing with a Chinese Jump Rope, which was my favorite game when I was a child. Unfortunately, I hadn’t played since I lived in England about eighteen years ago, and it was evident when I played with the girls. The Chinese Jump Rope is, basically, a long string with the two ends tied together to make a loop. As with a traditional jump rope, two people stand opposite and facing one another. The string loop goes around their ankles with feet shoulder width apart creating a circle. Again, as with traditional jump roping, there is a pattern of jumps inside, outside and on top of the string circle. Each time you successfully complete the pattern the string is moved, either up the legs of the people holding the string, or they will each pull a leg out so the width of the circle is only as wide as their legs making it extremely difficult to jump inside the circle without touching the string. It was so much fun! It was great to just chill out, be goofy and just live in front of the kids.
While at the school that day, someone discovered that a few of the students had not been wearing uniforms since we had been there. The uniform for the school would be familiar to just about any private school student in the States; it consisted of navy blue pants (skirts for girls), a white button-down shirt and a red knit sweater. In that community, a student without a uniform would not be unable to attend school, but would be looked down on and seen as less than adequate in their poverty. After a brief investigation Danny discovered that there were thirteen students at the school who could not afford uniforms. We simply could not leave the situation unattended.
The Sunday before we departed the States our team was asked if we could send a representative group to the Tree House (the fourth and fifth grade Sunday School) in order to be given a gift the students had collected. They had been challenged to collect “Quarters for Quito” in order to raise money to send to our project. We were amazed that morning when we were presented with almost $500! What a blessing it was to see these kids being exposed to missions and taught how very important it is to be conscious of the spiritual state of other countries. It seemed only natural that we spend some of that money to purchase uniforms for kids the same age as those who gave the money.
We left the school that day and went to the El Shaddai church for lunch, during which, Lana and I decided that Ben carries an undeniable resemblance to Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. After the meal, our team again split into two groups and set off to paint the same two churches. This time, though, we had a large group of girls helping us paint the church at Muchigrande. Dan sent me into a classroom with four girls, Ebony, Nora, Anna and Marta. A couple of them were the older girls who had livened up the group at the church on Sunday. It was so much fun to hang out with them, teach them how to paint and talk to them about Jesus. We taught each other our native languages and tried to communicate with one another and laughed a lot. The only tense moment with the girls came when they wanted me to teach them bad words. Instead of bad words, I taught them a little Georgia-speak; they loved learning how to say, “What’s up, ya’ll?”
Tuesday was our last day at Muchigrande. Angelica and her kids were there again so I had spent some time playing with them. I had enjoyed that family over the two days I’d been with them and it was hard to say goodbye. We left them, however, with a church vastly different in appearance and, hopefully, an example of how to serve the Lord in serving others.
We had dinner at the hacienda that night and left again to refinish the floor in the sanctuary at Jonhattan’s church. It was a big room and lot of work, but there were a lot people on our team so the work got done and it didn’t take too long. The guys moved all of the pews onto the stage and the girls grabbed steal wool and scrubbed the old finish off the floor. After we swept up the dust, some of our team went into a classroom downstairs and had a time of worship while the rest re-waxed the floor.
During the worship time, I realized how discouraged and frustrated I had felt all day, and even a little threatened. I’ve already explained, or at least tried to explain, how vital my relationship with Ava is. Because Satan only attacks what threatens him, he attacked that relationship, in my mind, that evening. I knew that I had been blessed to have Ava in my life; and I knew that there were other people who need to be loved the way she loves. My own self-consciousness led me to think I could and would be replaced in Ava’s life and that she was going to find someone else on this trip to disciple and I wouldn’t be special anymore. And then I began to feel guilty; I knew that I was being selfish and stupid. Ava knew during the worship time that I was struggling and hadn’t talked to her about it so she pulled me to the back of the bus to talk and pray. And I cried. When I climbed off the bus, back at the hacienda that night, I carried more clarity over the situation. Over the last year, Ava was the only person who never left me; if she hadn’t left yet, she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
It was such a blessing to me that night to find time to write. Before we left on our trip, I had asked Kitti to pray that I would be able to find time to write everyday while we were gone. I don’t know if I really believed it would happen, but I knew I desperately wanted it to. As I sat on my bed that night and wrote out the events of the day, I realized that the Lord had given me that time every day because journaling is my prayer. Writing is the way I best communicate with the Lord and it is in my journal that I can most clearly see what He is saying in response. My journal is my giving over to the Lord what is in my heart and mind.
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