Day 26: Toasts, Floods, Fried Pork Rind, and the Goodness of God
Imagine: you’re at a birthday party.
A shimmery backdrop of streamers hangs on the wall with big silver balloons that spell out “48.” Everyone cheers as the volcano candle lights up, almost touching a balloon on the ceiling of the small house. Now imagine you don’t know most of the people in the room, they’re speaking a foreign language, and they want you to give a toast.
Well, that’s what happened to me. With my heart beating fast, I went up to the front of the room and put my arm around my host father. I said, in the best Spanish I could muster, “Thank you for having me in your home and family. Thank you for always welcoming me. Thank you for teaching me about Colombia, soccer, and everything. Happy birthday!” Everyone cheered and I returned to my place in the back, relieved. But I meant every word of what I said.
A little 5-year-old came up to the front and gave a toast in his shy, high-pitched child voice. “I love you grandpa” he said at the end. I watched as tears came to my host father’s eyes.
About 30 years before, Alex, my host father, was trained to steal, kill, and kidnap. His father was embroiled in the violence incited by the Medellin drug cartel. Alex was destined to either follow in his footsteps or die an early death. Between the years of 1985 and 2000, over 90,000 died in Medellin, most of them from the ages of 19-24. As Alex’s father would always tell him, “This way of life has two endings—prison or the cemetery.”
Alex didn’t end up in either. His life went in another direction entirely. Through a fledgling soccer ministry, he began to learn about the gospel. The news that someone loved him was unheard of. He placed his faith in Christ and here he is 30 years later, plucked out of a black hole of violence that could have resulted in his death at any moment. Now, he is the sports director of the ministry I’m working for, the founder of a food charity in a displaced community, and a loving father and husband. The transformative power of Christ is truly astounding.
And his story is not unique; many of the coaches at the ministry have similar stories. I am here to write them down, to tell the story through a nonfiction narrative of what God has done through the Christian Union Sports Club.
I am beyond excited and honored, but it is not always easy. There are many things to work through, and sometimes it’s scary, but it’s a challenge I welcome. I am also helping with social media, writing and designing newsletters, taking pictures, and of course, playing a ton of soccer. My job is probably one of the only communications internships that has nonstop running thrown into the job description.
I’ve been able to experience and see many things since I’ve been here, and one of the most impactful was a trip I took up the mountain a few days ago.
It was a rainy day. As we began to go up the mountain the roads got worse and worse, covered in large stones and littered with big holes. Soon the street wasn’t visible under the rushing currents of brown water. But we kept pressing on, navigating the potholes in a little car definitely not built for rough conditions. The houses looked like boards slapped together, somehow miraculously held up by other boards so they wouldn’t slide down the mountain— although apparently that does happen frequently. Just last week, two people died in a landslide. We finally arrived, and although we carefully plotted our course to keep our shoes as dry as possible, the very first thing I did when I stepped out of the car was submerge my entire foot in a large brown puddle.
We hopped around the rushing water and entered a small corridor between houses, arriving at a little room. Inside, women were hard at work, cooking rice, soup, and meat pies. We were in a community called Manantiales, the 3rd largest displaced community in Colombia. Alex, along with some of the other coaches from the ministry, helped start a ministry that gave out food to the children and families in the community. It is truly his heart project. Shortly after arriving, Alex had me take a picture with a little boy in a red shirt. Later, he showed me a picture of himself with the same little boy from almost three weeks ago. The little boy was wearing the same red shirt in the picture and Alex told me that he wore that shirt almost every day—because he didn’t have any others. Wow.
I asked Alex if it would be helpful for my dad to bring with him donated clothes for Manantiales when he comes to visit in July, and he said “Sí, muchísimo.” I am overjoyed that I can do anything to help these children and families, and if you have any old clothes you would like to donate, just message me!
Another unconventional part of my job description as communications intern is the truly invaluable experience of immersion in a foreign culture.
The city of Medellin is absolutely packed with rich Latin culture. They all drive small cars or motorcycles, constantly defying every single conventional driving rule as they weave around each other and speed up steep roads. I genuinely feel like I have a near-death experience about every five seconds I’m in a car.
The families here watch the street like Americans watch T.V. They just sit on their porch, chat, and observe the constant hubbub of the street below—for hours. As everyone says, we really do need to learn from other cultures about slowing down and just enjoying each other’s presence.
Some of you may be wondering how I’m doing with the food here, considering my palate is basically that of a 7-year old American child. (Refer to my mac-n-cheese review account for proof). In answer, I am doing better than I thought! For the most part, I am enjoying the mystery meat, rice, beans, and fresh fruit juices. I’ve enjoyed getting to try Colombian delicacies such as fresh mango with salt, pepper, and lime juice, arepas with cheese and a bacon-like meat on them, and fruits I didn’t even know existed. I’ve only wanted to throw up a few times. Chicharron (fried pork rind, essentially) and I simply do not mix well.
Living in a culture that is not your own, and where you stick out like a sore thumb, is not always the easiest. There are moments when I simply cannot understand what someone is saying to me, moments when I just wish I looked like everyone else, moments when I wish I got the joke, and moments when I do dumb things like accidentally wash my undergarments in dirty mop water. But that’s neither here nor there.
But, the people here are so caring and welcoming, kindly explaining things to me, taking care of me, and welcoming the “gringa” with open arms. My host family truly treats me as one of their own, and I am so grateful for them.
Of course, it is hard to be away from my loved ones and to miss out on big life things of those I care about (@jill and @elli), but one of the most precious things about being here is walking through all things with someone who I can never be separated from. My goal through all of this is to grow closer to Him—and boy is he growing me!
There are times of confusion in work and relationships, times where I feel discouraged, times where I don’t feel good enough, and times where I simply have to push through various frustrations. God never promised it would be easy. But He promised he would be there with us every step of the way, and that His plans are for his ultimate glory and our good. That is what I rest in.
Recently, I read a chapter from a book called “A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23” on the verse “He restoreth my soul.” The author of the book pointed out that if David, the writer of Psalm 23, was a Christian, why would his soul need restoration? Shouldn’t he always be happy? “Why are you downcast, oh my soul” he wrote elsewhere in the Psalms. But no, the reality is that life is hard, and Jesus warned us of this- he said we would have hard times.
In shepherd language, when a sheep is “cast,” it means that they have fallen over and can’t pick themselves back up. If they don’t get picked up soon, they can die in that position or be killed by predators. But a good shepherd notices when one of his sheep is missing and frantically rushes to find it and pull it back up to its feet. This is what our Lord does for us; he leaves the 99 to come and find us and put us back on our feet—to pluck us out of the deep waters and set our feet on solid ground. What a comfort.
I have learned that waiting and endurance is a big part of the Christian life—our answers to prayer don’t always come immediately, our struggles aren’t always resolved in a second. The Lord works in his own time and in his own way—a way that is infinitely better than ours.
Also, I just want to say, there are many of you who might not be in a foreign country this summer. You might be back in your childhood bedroom, working the same summer job. But I just want to encourage you to embrace this season of comfort and rest and realize that God is always working around you. There is always purpose. Maybe it is your time of preparation for what He wants you to do next. You don’t need to do anything to gain His love.
“If you knew all you had was a relationship with God, would you be completely and truly satisfied? Many people would say ‘I would like to have that relationship, but I would also like to do something.’ Or ‘I would like for him to give me a ministry or something to do.’ We are a doing people. We feel worthless or useless if we are not busy doing something. Scripture leads us to understand that God is saying, ‘I want you to love me above everything else. When you are in a relationship of love with me you have everything there is. ‘To be loved by God is the highest relationship, the greatest achievement, and the noblest position in life.” (“Experiencing God”, pg. 55)
So, whatever you are doing this summer, whether something new or something normal, just remember what really matters. And always embrace the unknown of the adventure!
Sincerely, Hannah
Photography: Hannah B.