Heart Rumblings in Nicaragua, Parte uno

So, the bottom line is I have been awake for almost 36 hours now, but this has been in my heart bursting to come out.  I am sitting in my sister and brother in law's basement in MD.  Next to my bed.  And this will not let me sleep. 

There is SO MUCH from Nicaragua to share.  But the first thing to bubble to the surface was this.  And since I told 4 different people about it today...it was meaningful. 

My experience with pastors is not great.  As a child, we attended Bolivian churches with Bolivian pastors, but they were never any real spiritual influence in my life.  I helped my mom run the children's church and really paid not too much attention to the rest of it.  College was a lesson in what not to do in a church setting.  The only redeeming factor to PCCs idea of church was Pastor Schettler and he was pretty far removed.  I think that he genuinely cared about the student body, but really one man and 4000 students does not equal relationship of any kind.

After college, things went from not great to worse.  We attended a small baptist church in Indiana that was miserable.  Arrogant pastor = dead church.  I could not, and still cannot stand the man that ruled that church.  Make no mistake, ruling it is exactly what he did.  I remember clearly the day we visited our friend's Church of God congregation.  I was weeping, uncontrollably during the sermon because my heart was so thirsty for spiritual refreshment.  I couldn't stop the tears.  There have been more moments.  Pastors who were corrupt.  Using the church for power and money.  Encouraging or overlooking innapropriate sexual issues.  I remember one situation pretty clearly involving a young girl and an abusive husband twice her age.

So the bottom line is, over the years I have learned consciously or unconsciously to come into a church with armor on.  Cynicism is kinda my best friend when the pastorate is involved. 

So, remember that I have been nervous about the trip because of two of our senior pastors being part of the team.  Truthfully, I was somewhat familiar with Woody, but I barely knew Dave at all.

And over the five days that we were in Nica together, God took my armor off. 

Every night after being out at the House of Hope, or in the market, the team would sit out on the back patio and talk about the day.  Impressions, thoughts, evaluations of what happened that day.  Who we encountered and what God was saying to us about it.  I think it was the first night we did this, Dave and Woody were talking about the women at the home and their capacity for change in a very cerebral, theological way.  Don't get me wrong, there is nothing fundamentally wrong with this, but in my heart I was getting angry because I was coming from a place of raw pain for who these women are as human beings and the tragedy that has been their lives.  So I took a minute, and came back to the conversation and asked the pastors straight up if they were able to love these women.  Actually writing that kind of makes me cringe.  I have a big mouth sometimes. Ok most of the time. 

And Dave and Woody graciously answered my question deliberately, seriously, and without any return resentment.  At least that I could tell.  And then Woody prayed for forgiveness in the following time of prayer either later that night, or the next day, for wanting to be impressive with his theology. 

I was, and still am, floored by the humility and wisdom of the senior pastors of BRCC.    Not because my question was some great insight, far far from it.  Of course they are capable of loving people less fortunate than themselves.  But because they handled my defensiveness and my speaking from a place of prior pain, even without knowing it, lovingly and gently.  I will say that I have never encountered a pastor in my life that answered my big mouth with such gentleness.  And actually cared enough to answer the question as a question instead of taking as an attack.

And the rest of the week was the same.  I moved from a place of cynisism to really being interested in what they were going to say in the evenings and to listening to them process things verbally.  And each time there was something I wanted to ask or clarify they were as gracious as the first time. 

I saw the Holy Spirit in them clearly. 

And I saw them as normal guys playing Scrabble and learning about Duck, Duck Goose...LOL Woody!

And for the first time in my life I think that I truly trust the leadership of my church.  God met each of my defenses with truth in their lives as men and leaders of the church. 

Even writing that down makes me nervous.  Scary.  Not that they will fail, but that they will fail and hide the failure and start the image making process. It's so worthless and empty and a dime a dozen. 

This seems silly, and I almost don't want to write it down.  But it almost made me cry.  Ok, truth, it's making me cry right now....when they dropped me off at home, Dave hugged me.  And then Woody hugged me.  And they initiated the contact. 

It felt like they cared about me.  About Crystal.  That's kind of new. 

So summary of lesson number one out of five days in Nicaragua?   I suck at Speed Scrabble, and Woody skipped some of his childhood. 

And also God says I don't need all the emotional and spiritual layers of armor I drag around with me. 

It's ok to trust.  Trust God when he puts people in your life.  I think I will always ask questions, but I will be much happier accepting no for an answer now when it comes from men like this.