Valle Verde

It has been a long while since I blogged last...sorry.  I feel like I have been on hyper speed for the past few weeks.  Mixed in with lots of activities, has been our ongoing challenge connecting to the internet and as a result, the blog has fallen to the bottom of my "to do"  list. 

This past weekend, we said good bye to the team from Chilliwack.  What a blessing it was to share time with them working in Valle Verde.  The team was extra special because we had family on it - Rocky's brother Kevin, his wife, Kathy and their son Matthew.  This was their first time in  Guatemala and is was so much fun to be here and be a part of their experience. 

The project in Valle Verde was to build a classroom, but by the time the team arrived, the men of the community had the majority of the work done.  At first I think some of them were a little disappointed that they were not going to be digging out for the foundation, but...after an hour of working in the intense heat and humidity, they were very thankful the classroom was as far along as it was! 

 The team not only worked in Valle Verde, but they also did children's ministry, attended church and did a small prayer walk.  As always, the children were so happy to be with the group, playing games, singing songs and doing crafts.  The stories (told by Leeanne - team leader) were awesome!  It was tough for those translating to have as much expression as Leeanne had!  The kids loved them! 

 On Sunday, we had the privilege of attending church in the small community and I was given the opportunity to preach a little.  This was really the first time I have preached in Spanish.  I think it was less intimidating because the people couldn't understand my Spanish - only my translator needed to understand enough to translate it into Quekchi!  After I was finished, Hector (Arryn's husband) preached as well.  It was a great service.  It always amazes me that the Word of the Lord is applicable in all languages and in all cultures.  That is what a living, active Word can do! 

After church, the pastor and his family feed us lunch and we left feeling full - both spiritually and physically.
On Wednesday, we had a chance to visit the home of the pastor.  The team had a gift for him and his family and we spent some time encouraging him and praying for him.  He asked if we'd be willing to go to the home of a family that had not yet accepted the Lord and pray with them.  We jumped at the chance.  As we got closer to the house, we realized the mom was not home, but her adult daughter and son were.  The little boy (maybe 1 1/2 years old) was badly burned.  He had pulled a pot of boiling water onto himself about 5 days earlier.  As we prayed and shared the Gospel message with her (the mom), the presence of the Lord was so palatable and sweet!  It truly was a "God" moment.  It is at times like that that I know I am where God wants me to be. 
It was sad for us to say goodbye to the group, but we know that lives were touched and God was about His business both in our lives, in the lives of those in Valle Verde and in the lives of those on the team.  Our God is so good! 

Power

Over the past year I have thought a lot about electricity.  In Canada, we experienced power outages, but always because of a storm or when the power company was working on the line.  We expected to have access to electricity and usually did. 
Since living in Guatemala, and particularly in Chisec, I have come to appreciate having access to electricity more than I ever used to.  In our area of the country there has been a battle going on between the people and the power company.  The problem is really pretty simple:  the average person cannot afford to pay what the power company is charging for electricity. 

Let me explain.  In Canada, for example, the average power bill takes up approximately 5% of a person's monthly income.  In Chisec, it is closer to 20% - 25%.  In fact, if they have more than just a few light bulbs  - like say a fridge, TV and a microwave - it could be much higher.  So, in the past the majority of people where we live didn't have electricity because it was not affordable.  Then came along an organization named CODECA.  Essentially, their position was and is that it's unconstitutional to charge this rate for electricity and they simply took matters into their own hands.  They went around to the small communities and disconnected their legal power line and reconnected them illegally.  CODECA charges the family Q20 instead of Q150 and everyone is happy.  Everyone, that is, except Energuate.   
At first, Energuate, the power company, would send workers (along with armed guards) into communities to disconnect the illegal connections, but that became too dangerous.  And so, as people saw that there was really no consequence to stealing electricity, more and more people signed up with CODECA.  In fact they don't even try to keep it a secret.  As we drive from Coban to Chisec, we pass through a number of communities where CODECA has huge billboard style signs outlining what they are doing and the homes in the communities have CODECA signs on their home to indicate they are signed up with CODECA, not Energuate. 
At the end of the day, however, the problem remains that someone needs to pay for the illegally used power, because as we all know, a business is not going to take a loss.  So this translates into continually increasing energy costs to those who are upholding the law.  And, as prices continue to climb, more and more people join CODECA.  What a horrible cycle. 
So, that brings us to this past week.  On Thursday, Energuate had enough and simply cut off the electricity to our area.  They said they would not turn it back on until someone paid for all the stolen electricity (about 1 million quetzal).  They were prepared to leave the power off, regardless of the effect on those legitimate customers in the area.  By Monday morning, the community of Chisec was out of water, because the water needs to be pumped to the different areas of the community from the main cistern with an electric pump.  No electricity meant no water.  Also, all of the businesses that sell items needing refrigeration,  had very few options - buy or borrow a generator, sell off all their perishables for a discounted price, or let everything spoil.  Also, businesses were closed, and those revenues lost, including banks, so people (like us) had no access to their money.  Simply trying to keep the peace at night is a challenge for our little police force and the army detail for our area.  The fall-out of a purposeful removal of power from an area is far reaching.  And the most frustrating part is that those in the right - the people who have continued to pay their power bills even though the prices are ridiculous - seemingly have no voice. 
What do you do?  It is a broken system, and one not easily fixed. 

The Adventure...Bringing Hope!

We have two movies in the Keqchi language. One is the Jesus film and the other is called Hope. It starts with the biblical account of creation and gives several stories from the Old Testament that lead into the purposes of God in bringing Jesus to redeem mankind. The movie is a great tool to explain the message of salvation and it gives an invitation to receive Christ at the end.

So, off I go to the village Montaña se Acte to show the movie. On this particular adventure (I have come to call these outings adventures because each time I go, the evening has something unique and unusual to offer), I picked up the mission pastor (Arnoldo) and his 8 year old son in front of the Nazarene church office in Chisec. We drove for about 45 minutes on pavement before hitting the back road. It was in unusually good condition so I asked the pastor’s son if he would like to drive. He jumped at the chance and I set him on my lap and put his hands on the steering wheel. His dad pulled out his phone and recorded the event on his phone camera. Dad had never driven anything except a bicycle if you can call that driving and he was feeling a little jealous.

We arrived in the village 10 minutes later and all the children gathered around the car as they normally do. There were lots of laughs as this young boy climbed off my lap and out the driver’s side. He was so proud.

I was introduced to some of the men and I ask them few questions about their village. How many families live here?  Do you have a school?  What do you do for work?  Is there a church?  What kind of animals are there and do they eat them?... and so on. Then I followed them down a little dirt path to a place where this pastor had started a house church. The church ladies were inside making supper so they brought me a plastic chair and set it outside by the door.  The children were gathered around me, all curious about the “gringo grande” (big white guy).

I love to try and connect with these kids so I usually try to get them to teach me a word or two in Keqchi, then reciprocate with some English. I hold up my fingers and count. One, two, three. They copy me and soon we are counting all the way to ten in English. Great fun! Then it’s my turn to do it in Keqchi. Hun, Qweep, Osheep, and that is about as far as I get before my tongue is bent out of shape in trying to pronounce the numbers they are teaching me. Supper is about ready as dusk sets in and they invite me into the wooden walled hut with an uneven dirt floor. I bring my plastic chair in and  try to find a flat spot near the table to set it. There is a small battery powered light overhead and they are trying to adjust it for maximum light. They want to watch the “gringo” eat.

I notice that there are two open fires in this small hut, one on a raised dirt platform, the other on the open floor. Yes, it was smoky in there. There were about 15 young children sitting on the dirt floor around the outside walls while the ladies scurried about, flipping tortillas and serving up the usual chicken soup that they serve to guests in a Guatemalan village. A young woman brings me a bowl of water and I rinse my hands as she pours the water out onto the dirt floor.  A huge bowl of soup is set in front of me with two big pieces of chicken on the side. As per custom the 3 men at the table are served first.  We all pray out loud and at the same, and then as I look for hints on how to eat soup without a spoon, we all dig in.  As I was eating, I noticed that there was some kind of order in which the children were fed. Some received a little soup and others only tortillas. There were clear signs of malnutrition in this village and one can only wonder what a day holds for these little ones.

 After supper I set up my big flat screen (a king sized sheet) and projector outside the hut in an open area under a roof. They sang a couple of songs and I started the movie as people from the village trickled in and stood around where they could see the picture. I found myself looking up at the stars as the people engaged in the message of salvation. I pray that these wonderful Guatemalan people would receive the message of truth and that hearts would be changed for the glory of God.  I don’t really know the impact this message has on the people that watch the movie, but I leave that up to the Lord. I know seeds have been planted and the pastor will follow up and water them, but it is the Lord that will make them grow.

Near the end of the movie a man approached Arnoldo and asked him if we could visit his house after the presentation. I knew it would make for a late night but I agreed.  I packed up my gear, lockd it in the car and followed the man who invited us to his house. About 20 other villagers also followed us.  After a short walk down a muddy trail we found his home, where I was greeted by a woman holding a young child.  I did my best to visit with the family in a mix of broken Spanish and some Keqchi.  I learned that the child is 7 years old, has downs syndrome and has never walked.  He appeared to be crippled in some way. 

I asked to hold him and as I took him from his mother, he gave me a huge smile.  The parents asked if I could help him, and I was at a loss for words (in more ways than one). I took the time to pray with the family explaining to them that my heart language was English so I may sound strange to them. “Lord, would you bless little Sergio and fulfill your purposes in his life…” 

As I left the house after the short visit, I felt a little helpless, but I knew that the Lord knew this family by name. I headed back down the dark trail and made the journey back to the Mission. I pulled up to the iron gate at 11:00  pm, and gave thanks to God for His hand upon my life.

Would you pray, along with me, for Sergio and his family? 
Thanks, Rocky.