God…is…so…cool.
He
does weird things, unexpected things—things that make no sense in the eyes of
the world. Walking with Him is such an
adventure, because we never know what’s next.
But I suppose that’s the fun part—taking risks and watching Him provide
beyond what we could ever imagine.
During
my holiday break, I spent a good chunk of time preparing for the last leg of
the Iris Latin America journey—the Caribbean.
After very suddenly being designated our new team leader, I had mixed
feelings. Such authority felt like both
a huge privilege and a heap of unwanted pressure. Though leading gave me an opportunity to plan
the Caribbean trip the way I’d always envisioned it, it also meant accepting
the burden of anything that went awry.
As
I wondered how things would pan out, God continually reminded me that this was
a season to dream with Him, as a daughter dreaming with her Father. My decade-long desire to minister in the
islands was coming to fruition, and I needed to maintain a heart of thanks, not
a heart of worry. Serving in the
Caribbean would not be a test of obedience but a test of belief—would I dare to
dream with God and trust Him to bless the desires of my heart?
While
praying, I felt God told me that our team would go to five countries (or
territories) in the Caribbean. My heart
is to travel to the neediest islands, so the DR, Haiti, Cuba, and Jamaica
seemed like no-brainers. But God told me
our first island would be Puerto Rico. I was confused as to why we’d waste any
time in this affluent U.S. territory and had no desire to go. In addition, whenever I attempted to land
contacts in Puerto Rico, every door seemed to slam shut. However, regardless of circumstances, I knew
God had something significant for us in Puerto Rico. Natalie had a vision of a closed door and an
invisible hand opening it. I didn’t know
how or when, but I did believe God would open doors for us. My teammates and I took a leap of faith and
booked our tickets to Puerto Rico before establishing a single contact on the
island.
During
the holiday break, I thanked God every day--for His plans for the Caribbean
team and for the doors He had promised to open.
Time passed. I sent a million
emails. I heard nothing in return…then
more of nothing…and still nothing.
Just
a week before our flights, I received an email from a pastor of Bethel Church
in California. He’d mysteriously lost a
message I’d sent him weeks past and apologized profusely for getting back to me
so late. He figured it was too late at
this point, but forwarded me the information of a pastor in Puerto Rico
nonetheless. I immediately emailed
Edwin, the Puerto Rican pastor, and told him about our team. I received a response fifteen minutes
later. After a couple emails and a few
phone calls, we had a ride from the airport, a place to stay, and an amazing
church to work with.
Days
later, I said goodbye to my family, my comfortable bed, my hot shower, and my
home turf. I boarded the plane to Puerto
Rico and faced that moment I dread every time I return to the mission
field—that painful moment of tension between excitement for the adventure ahead
and the fear of territory completely unknown.
It’s the ache of turning my back on my loved ones and everything
familiar, while trying to be strong enough to run into my destiny. It’s that moment where I am exactly where I
am supposed to be, yet loss and fear try to tell me otherwise—and where pieces
of myself are painfully squeezed out of me, making room for new cultures, new
friends, and new missions.
Upon
landing, the blast of warm air in the San Juan airport eased my spinning mind. The heat of the island made everything seem
better. My teammates and I happily
reunited and were soon picked up by Edwin and his beautiful wife, Maggie. They drove us to their home in the city of
Arecibo, where they explained that we would be split between their home and
their friend Barbie’s house. Barbie explained that when her husband built
their home, he purposefully added extra rooms to house guests in the future. They wanted to provide a safe haven for
missionaries and told us that their house was just as much ours as theirs. Barbie’s daughter, Sally, agreed to escort us
throughout the island for the following ten days—taking us to home groups,
prayer meetings, church services, homeless outreaches, evangelism events on the
beach and in the marketplace. Sally was
the best guide we could have asked for.
Full of love, generosity, solid faith, and lots of laughs, she quickly
became like a sister on our team.
One
morning, Sally took Natalie, Roberta, Alan, and I to a rehab center for
men. The men who live there were war
veterans, former drug addicts, and homeless.
We gathered the men and sat in a circle as many of them looked at us
with skepticism. We explained that we
were missionaries who had been traveling throughout Latin America for the past
fourteen months and had recently begun our travels around the Caribbean. Natalie shared some testimonies of how God
had moved in rehab centers we’d visited in Colombia and Brazil. I shared the story of our friend Godfrey who
had been set free from addiction in Belize.
Alan and Roberta shared parts of their personal testimonies, and Roberta
asked the men what their dreams were.
One
by one, the men shared the deepest dreams of their hearts with us and with each
other. One man dreamt of being a
missionary. Another dreamt of having his
own home. Yet another said he dreamt of
preaching. Still others remained quiet
and ashamed.
We
offered to pray for each individual, and a man named Renaldo hesitantly approached
Alan and me. He said that he’d done many
bad things in his past, and terrible thoughts still haunted him. He listed some of his past crimes and then
silently made a gesture indicating that he had shot people, too ashamed to
speak the words aloud. I asked him if
he’d forgiven himself, but it was clear he was not yet able to do so.
As
Alan and I prayed for Renaldo, I saw two pictures. The first was a vision of his past. He was hiding, about to do something
destructive, but he was filled with fear.
The second picture was of his future.
He was dressed nicely, standing in front of a crowd with a microphone in
his hands, speaking to children. After
we prayed, I asked Renaldo if anything in his childhood had caused him to
fear. He paused for a moment, sadness
filling his eyes. Slowly, he opened his
mouth. “When I was young,” he began, “My
father did bad things to me. He beat me;
he grabbed me. He did black magic. There were frightening things happening.”
I
wanted to tell him about the good I saw coming in his future, but he beat me to
it. “You know, I had a dream that I was
preaching in the future. But I just
don’t know if I could do that.” I saw
doubt written all over his face. Some
part of him wanted to believe his dream, but more of him felt he was too much
of a failure.
I
told Renaldo what I’d seen during prayer—that I had a glimpse of the fear that
ruled his past. I explained that the
enemy was using fear to keep him from his destiny. I told Renaldo that he was called to be a
protector and had a destiny to protect children from feeling the same fear that
he did. I described my vision of him
speaking to crowds, especially youth. I
assured him that his dream will one day become true—that his testimony will be
a powerful example of how God can change someone’s life. There was no reason to live in shame. The rougher your past, the more your story
can show what a powerful transformation God is able to make.
As
I confirmed Renaldo’s dream, rather than agreeing with the lie that he’ll never
be good enough, his eyes lit up. He
looked like a child, eager and happy.
His countenance shifted from shame to hope. He asked my permission to give me a hug, and
I opened my arms to him. He embraced me,
then went to each one of my teammates, declaring that he needed a hug from each
person. When we said farewell, he was
still smiling from ear to ear.
Everywhere
we went, I had the privilege of watching God touch peoples’ hearts. In every church, God gave us specific words
for people, and many were moved to tears as they encountered the love of
Christ. Countless people approached us
to tell us different things we’d said confirmed desires or promises in their
hearts. Person after person told us how
deeply touched, encouraged, and moved they were. God blew us away by using even
the littlest details to bring people hope.
During
one youth meeting, we prayed for those who felt called to the mission
field. Natalie gave a general word that
she believed some people in the group were called to China, Indonesia, and
Latin America. She wasn’t sure who these
words were for, but announced them regardless.
One
guy stepped forward and said he was called to China, some Arabic countries, and
Russia. He explained that he knew a bit
about China and the Arab world, but Russia was completely unknown territory for
him. When he realized Natalie was from
Russia (and speaking about China), he was intrigued. He also explained that the shirt she was
wearing confirmed that the Lord was speaking.
His ministry was called Kingdom Come Ministries, and he’d had either a
dream or a vision of a castle of many colors.
Funnily enough, Natalie happened to be wearing a shirt with a castle on
it and very colorful letters that read, “Let your kingdom come.” Lord, I
thought, how very clever you are. You can use a Russian girl’s T-shirt to
confirm someone’s calling. God is
cool like that.
The
longer we stayed in Puerto Rico, the more I realized God had not just brought
us here to serve others but to receive blessings ourselves. Though the heart of Iris Ministries is to go
into the darkest places, God still has some pleasant surprises up His sleeve for
His children. He undoubtedly brought us
to Puerto Rico, meaning “Rich Port”, and quickly showed us unexpected riches
that matched the island’s name.
First
of all, besides being provided with comfortable and beautiful accommodation, the
churches where we served gave us financial blessings beyond my wildest
dreams. One church gave us each an
envelope with an incredibly generous donation inside. When I opened it, I gasped in shock. It was enough to cover my flight from New
York to Puerto Rico as well as half of my flight to the Dominican
Republic!
Secondly,
starting our journey in Puerto Rico helped create a smooth transition coming
from the mainland U.S. The island is a
U.S. territory and contains much evidence of mainland U.S. culture yet
maintains its own Latino flavor as well.
It was nice to transition back to speaking Spanish in a place where most
people are bilingual and could help remind me of the words I’d forgotten over
Christmas break. I appreciated easing
back into Latin American life with some familiar comforts from the continental
U.S. As we travel next to the Dominican
Republic, it will feel a little less like home, and by the time we get to
Haiti, we’ll be in a different world. The
gradual transition from place to place makes the process a lot less
jarring. God knew our itinerary before
we did and is very intentionally taking care of our hearts and needs.
Lastly,
and most importantly, our time in Puerto Rico provided us with godly connections
for our remaining time in the islands.
Though Puerto Rico itself didn’t quite fit in with my vision to go to
the poorest places, the pastors in Puerto Rico had the connections we needed to
get into those places. While in Texas
for Christmas, Natalie received a prophecy that we would meet a man of
influence in Puerto Rico who would help us have a smooth journey throughout the
rest of the islands. Name-dropping would
connect us and provide for us as we traveled; and our path would be smooth,
restful, and easy. Pastor Edwin and his
brother Ephraim are incredibly well-connected throughout the Caribbean, and
working with their church has already opened up doors for us in the Dominican
Republic, Haiti, and Cuba. Though I had
originally thought it might well be impossible for Americans to enter Cuba, Ephraim
has informed us otherwise. He has gone
there many times recently and knows all the ins-and-outs of traveling there
legally as a U.S. Citizen. He’s provided
us with connections and information that is giving me hope and excitement to
get into Cuba. Things are panning out a
hundred times smoother than I ever dreamed possible.
And
as we planned for the next country, the Dominican Republic, God once again both
closed doors and opened doors that I could never have opened on my own. I had been in contact with someone from the
Dominican Republic for almost two months, and spent lots of time exchanging
emails, Skype calls, and messages.
However, I waited for a final confirmation for quite some time. I was desperately trying to nail down the
contact, to finalize our arrangements—knocking down the door with my own strength
but getting nowhere. Our new friends
here in Puerto Rico gave us the name of a Dominican pastor and told us to call
him. After a four-minute Skype
conversation, we once again had a ride from the airport, a place to stay, and
ministry opportunities in Santo Domingo.
After months of communication and failing to plan anything productive,
God provided everything we needed in just four minutes.
Our
time in Puerto Rico set us up very nicely for the rest of our journey. God called us to Puerto Rico to bless others
but also to bless us. He showed me the futility
of putting pressure upon myself to plan the itinerary. God clearly designed our itinerary from the
start. All I needed to do was simply
tell Him my dream, and now I get to enjoy the ride.
