Ice Cream Man Meets Jesus

     It was about 8:00 am in the Masatepe area of Nicaragua and a storm was coming.  Our Grand Poobah “Bob,” informed us, the village we were going to go to was not accessible in the rain.  He said we could make it there, but if the rain came, we would be stuck in the village.  That did not matter to the medical team; we all agreed we would go.  We refused to let the threat of rain stop us.

     When we arrived at the host church, there was not a cloud in the sky.  Immediately we set up for clinic.  The thought was, we would start quickly and see as many patients as possible before the rain came.  When the rain got close enough, our bus driver was going to bus us out before it was too late. 

Outside the medical clinic towards the end of the day

     Clinic was going great, we were seeing patients quickly as well as sharing the gospel and praying with them.  You could tell God was blessing or efforts of being obedient and going where he called us to go and not turning back because of the threat of getting stuck. 

     The day ended up being absolutely beautiful. Clinic had gone so smooth that members of the medical team were able to take turns going out to do street evangelism.  My turn came up to go and I took Carri with me.  Carri had never had this opportunity before; she was excited that we were going together.  It was something different, a change of pace from medical.  It was a special treat of sorts.

Inside the medical clinic

     My first opportunity to share the gospel outside the clinic was with the ice cream man.  He had a cooler attached to a bike.  In the morning he would load his cooler with frozen juice and head out on his bike selling frozen treats to the locals.  The ice cream man had heard that the Americans were in a village close to Masatepe where he lived.   So that morning, he loaded his cooler and set out for our site in hopes of prospering financially.  He knew we were going to draw a crowd and he would be able to make money.  

  

     I asked the ice cream man if he knew whether or not he would go to heaven when he died.  He answered, “Nobody can know that answer until you die.”  I asked “can I share what the bible says?”  He kind of hesitated and then said “I guess so.”  While I was sharing the gospel another local man stood close by praying.  I thought it was pretty cool, some random guy praying while I was sharing the gospel.

     When I was finished sharing with the ice cream man, I asked him “Do you want to accept God’s gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ so that you can know for sure if you will go to heaven when you die?”  With a huge smile and no hesitation he said “Yes!”  I asked if he understood what we had just shared from the bible. He said “yes, I now understand and believe that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life.  I now know that no one goes to heaven except through Jesus Christ.” 

     I prayed with this new believer as he gave his life to Christ.  He prayed confessing the fact that he was a sinner, he asked Jesus to come into his life, he accepted the redemption that had been paid on the cross and he surrendered his life to Jesus  asking Him to be his Lord and Savior. 

The Ice Cream Man
Just before sharing the gospel with him

     When we were finished praying the man behind us was so excited.  He had tears in his eyes.  Come to find out, the ice cream man was his brother.  The man, he was the pastor of the church.  He shared with us that he had been trying for years to reach his brother for Christ and he always refused.  He always thought it was foolish to believe in such nonsense.  He said that he finally surrendered his brother’s destiny to God.  He told me “I prayed and said to God, I know you love my brother and I am asking that you send someone from far away into his life that can share with him the truth.  I pray that when this person comes, my brother will accept the truth and believe without hesitation because it came from you and not me.”  He smiled, shook my hand and said “You are that man God sent and today my brother is saved!”

     The ice cream man did not live close to his brother’s church.  From what I understood, he rode his ice cream bike at least an hour to come to the medical clinic just to make some money from the crowd that was going to be at his brother’s church that day.  

Riding an ice cream bike for over an hour to a remote medical clinic makes about $1 - $2 American dollars.  Meeting and American who refused to quit because of the threat of rain and finding Jesus, Priceless!

John 14:6 

Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

May my life be the proof and evidence of His love!

A Nearly Dead Baby in a Blanket

     In the same village, I was blessed to receive the juice box and crackers, I experienced something I had never experienced before.  At the end of the church service, a woman came forward and asked if Chris would dedicate her baby to the Lord.  Chris spoke about raising children in the way they should go and spoke about raising children in church.  While Chris was speaking, the mother just stood before the church with a very somber look on her face.  The baby was wrapped tightly in a blanket and barely visible. 

     As Chris began to pray for the mother and the baby, I could not help but notice tears from the mothers face.  I would have expected a smile or some sort of gesture on her face that showed gladness.  I thought it was odd, but these people were a very stoic people and really did not show much emotion on their faces. 

Mom and baby during the dedication

      After the prayer, Chris and I received our gift of juice boxes and crackers.  Then the church members greeted us. They expressed their personal gratitude with words, hugs, handshakes, smiles and prayers.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and we both felt we were more blessed than being a blessing ourselves.  It always seems that way on missions, you go to bless people and God seems to bless you instead.

     Just as we were about to leave, our interpreter returned with the mother and baby.  She explained to us that the baby had been sick and the mom asked if we would pray one more time.  I explained that I was a nurse and paramedic.  I asked if she would like me to assess the baby, immediately the mom handed the bundle of blankets to me.

     As I began to unwrap the infant, fear and sorrow struck my soul.  As I took my first look at the baby's face my first thoughts were, "this baby is dead."  I felt sick inside.  I finished unwrapping the baby and discovered that she was still alive, barely.  Her color was an ash gray; her respiration's were erratic, shallow and hardly notable.  I felt for a pulse and barely felt a faint, thready, slow palpitation.  I had been a medic for nearly 20 years at this point, I knew a dying baby when I saw one.  This was a dyeing baby.

     I informed the mother that this baby needed to go to the hospital immediately and we could take her on the bus.  Tears gushed form her eyes.  She explained that she had already been to the hospital that day and they told her there was nothing they could do.  They then told her to take her baby home to die as they turned her away.  Our interpreter explained to me that if there were no money, that is usually what the hospitals would say.

     I had our interpreter explain to the mother that I did not have any medical supplies or equipment to help the baby.  Then I had her tell the mother that the best thing we could do beyond medicine was to pray.  Several of us gathered around and laid hands on the baby, we prayed for healing.  We asked God to perform a miracle.  I think that was probably the most intense prayer I have ever experienced.  As we finished praying, an older very sickly looking person gave the mother her ticket to see the American doctor the next day.  Because the needs were so great, the pastors gave out tickets to the sickest of people who really needed a doctor because we could not see them all. 

      As we left the village, I felt so sick inside.  I had never felt so helpless in my life.  It took all I had to leave.  I just kept talking to God and He just kept saying, "The baby is going to be OK."  I still felt sick, but I also had a peace.  A peace that I cannot explain.

     The next day at medical clinic, I just kept asking God for a sign that the baby was OK.  I just needed something.  As I looked up, I saw the mother walking towards me with the bundle of blankets in her hand.  This time, mom had a smile on her face.  I stopped what I was doing and ran to meet her.  When I got close enough, the first thing I noticed was the life that was in the baby's eyes.  God healed that baby.  Our doctor did as complete an assessment as possible and determined that nothing was wrong with her baby. 

Mom, baby, and me the following day
at the medical clinic,  Alive!!

James 5:15

And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven.

May My Life be the Proof and Evidence of His Love!

Giving Out of Need, Giving the Best of What You Have

    November 2010, I was once again in Nicaragua on a mission trip.  One thing I learned is that you never expect anything.  Missions requires flexibility and patience.  This particular year, I met a youth pastor from Missouri.  He was a younger guy, but we still had a lot in common since we both worked with youth.  His name is Chris, and I was blessed to serve with him in 2011 as well.  Hope I get the opportunity again someday. 

     This particular trip, Chris was asked to preach at a remote church that had requested us to come.  Immediately Chris agreed.  Typically what we do is send a couple people with the pastor so he is not alone.  Also it gives us a chance to share a brief testimony.  When asked who wanted to go with Chris, Nobody raised their hands.  They had all decided where and who they were going with earlier that day.  Since Chris's church was an add on nobody was really prepared our thought about it.  I on the other hand said I would love to go with Chris. 

     The bus ride took about an hour to an hour and a half to reach our destination deep in the Forest/jungle.  Chris and I kind of joked that maybe our pastors had paid good money for the bus driver to get rid of us.  When the bus driver said we had arrived and their was no civilization in site and only jungle trees and bushes, we really began to wonder. 

     We wandered down a short path that led to a very quaint and lively little church.  The building was open to the air and maybe could have sat 20 people comfortably.  The crowed that gathered was probably close to 70-80.  People were excited that the Americans had come.  They treated us like we were famous.  The hospitality was so comforting. 
 

This is the church

     At the end of the church service, the pastor announced that he was going to sing a special for the Americans so that we could dance and rejoice.  I looked at Chris and Chris looked at me and I mouthed, "I can't dance."  Chris replied "me either, lets pray the music goes out."  by the way, they had electricity and the guitar and mic were crudely wired to an amp.  Quick prayer went up, then the pastor began to play and sing.  Chris and I both began to bust out the moves.  I tried to mimic what I had seen on Madagascar and Chris well I don't know what you would call it.  just kidding.  Just as the music started, God answered our prayer, the power went out.  Neither one of us had to dance.  The pastor was so sorry and so apologetic.  We were both like "no really it is ok."

      At the very end, a lady approached us with a silver colored tray with a white linen cloth covering whatever was on the tray.  Our interpreter informed us, that the entire village had gotten together to give us both a gift.  They wanted us to have something to show their appreciation.  I was excited, I imagined all kinds of ornate little hand crafted trinkets that I could take home and proudly display.  The pastor voiced a prayer over us and then uncovered the mysterious gift.  What I saw was so much more than what I had anticipated.  It was two juice boxes and two packs of crackers.  The pastor and all the people I could see where so excited. You could see the anticipation on their faces of how proud they were of the gift they had provided.  Their faces were like little children giving their parent something they had made. 

     I have never felt so humbled in my life.  To me this gift was so small and insignificant.  I never would have considered it a gift to give to two visiting pastors from another country.  But yet, it was so much more than anything I would have chosen.  In perspective to their poverty, this was something only reserved for special occasions.  This was not a common snack for any child in their community.  It truly was a treasure, the equivalent of a gourmet dinner.  They had nothing, remember we drove over an hour to get to this village.  There was nothing.  To this day I wished I had kept the juice box and crackers so I could proudly display them in my home. They gave out of their need giving us the best of what they had.  We clutch proudly to our riches.  I don't want to be like that, I want to give just as they did.
 



This is what they used to take up their offerings



Mark 12: 41-44 Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. 42 But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny. 43 Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. 44 They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything--all she had to live on."
May my life be the proof and evidence of His love!