Break Point Testimony

The following testimony recounts the transformative experience of a team member from our partner church in Columbus, Georgia:

“Hola!” from your brothers and sisters in Bogotá, Colombia.  And they also send a blessing: “Diós te bendiga” − God bless you.

Last Sunday, I returned from a week-long mission to Bogotá.  I was one of a team of twelve whom you sent to provide physical aid and encouragement to both our sister church in Bogotá and to an affiliated girls’ home called The Beehive.  It was the best thing that I have ever done, and I want to thank you for sending and supporting us with your gifts and your prayers.

Derrick asked me to share with you some of my own experiences in Bogotá.  He asked me not to provide a complete report on the team’s activities and experiences, but rather a more personal testimony of how God worked in and through me during this time.  However, since I was part of a team of twelve, to get a proper idea of the trip, you will have to take my story and multiply it by at least twelve.

Indeed, a big part of my story is that all of us came together and worked hard and worked well, and with God’s help we accomplished a great deal and blessed our brothers and sisters in Bogotá.  The Pastor of the church there told us, not only once but three times, that it was a joy to be with us, and others expressed similar feelings toward us.  I mention this not to lift up ourselves, but to testify to what God did in our hearts.  The team is a very diverse group of people with very different backgrounds, experiences, ways of thinking, and ways of doing, but over the last few months as we prepared for our trip and during our week in Bogotá, he molded us together into a team that could work together effectively to accomplish what he had for us to do in Colombia.  All of the team members are now my friends forever, and my own experience would not have been as rich without each of them.

God had a lot of work to do in me so that I could do my part effectively.  Looking back, I realize that my story is one of victory of God’s Spirit in me, overcoming my very nature, what Paul would call my flesh.  My nature is to be shy, and what comes out of that nature is reservation.  Most people who know me would describe me as being reserved.  It’s not a debilitating condition and in many situations it serves me well and keeps me out of trouble.  But, really, what it means is that I hold things back from other people.  I don’t do it so much out of selfishness, but rather from a sense that some of what I have is not good enough to share with others.  It limits the number of people that I connect with, and it means that my friendships are not forged quickly and easily.  Throw in some pride, skepticism, cynicism, and fear, and you have a pretty good idea of who I am on the inside, and of the work that God needed to do in me so that he could work through me.

That work began about a year ago when a mission team returned from Bogotá and reported their activities to the church.  Scott Davis, in particular, gushed about how wonderful The Beehive is and how much love the girls there have for those around them and what a blessing he received from them.  I didn’t know Scott then, and I honestly didn’t believe that it could have been as good as what he said, but it sounded at least pretty good, and I wondered if I could receive a similar blessing if I were to go there.

In the spring I committed myself to joining the team and going to Bogotá.  Our team leader, Lori, met with us regularly to prepare us for our work.  She warned us about cultural differences and physical discomforts that we might experience and helped us with the language and other practical matters.  Mostly she emphasized the need to be patient and flexible and open to following God’s lead and the lead of the Colombians under whom we would be working.

At our last meeting less than a week before we left, Lori reminded us that we would be in Bogotá for only seven days, and there would no time for sitting on the sideline or watching from the outside.  We would have to jump right in and do the work and try to connect with the girls of The Beehive and the people of the church.  Watching from the sideline had always been my number one social strategy, so this was a big challenge for me, but I knew that she was right and that I would have to take some risks and offer myself to people in ways that I was not used to doing.  But I wondered, Would I be accepted?

I was also worried about the construction work.  What would we be doing?  As far as I knew, we would be working on a ceiling and a floor at the church.  I heard a rumor that the ceiling was very high and there wasn’t a mechanical lift.  That was pretty scary.  Perhaps I could work on the floor, but I didn’t have any experience with that and my knees are bad.  Would I be physically up to the work?  Would I make a mess of it?  I really wished that I could paint something.  I had some experience with painting and I enjoy it, but as far as I knew there was nothing there to paint.  I said a quick prayer and asked the Lord to give me something to paint.

Our first day in Colombia was Sunday.  We met the girls and had breakfast at The Beehive.  I greeted the girls with my stand-by “Hola! Cómo estás?”  The girls were friendly and offered hugs and greeting kisses, which I accepted gladly.  We went next door and participated in the worship service at church.  After church, I connected with a young man who was delighted that I am trying to learn Spanish.  He is learning English, and we agreed to help each other with learning our languages.  I had made my first friend in Bogotá.

After lunch we decided to take the girls to a park that was within what Colombians consider to be “walking distance” (4-5 miles, I think).  On the way there, I connected with a woman who also is learning English, and she was happy to chat with me on our walk and help me with my Spanish and explain Colombian culture to me.  I had made a second friend after only a few hours in Bogotá.

We had a nice time in the park with the girls, but it was getting cold and threatening rain, so we decided to walk the girls back to The Beehive.  It began to rain a little, but all we could do was keep walking.  We came to a busy road, and we needed to get the girls across safely.  One little girl named Karen put her hand in mine and we crossed.  After we crossed, she didn’t remove her hand from mine.  We walked that way for the remaining miles and chatted as best we could with my limited Spanish.  I learned that she is ten years old and that she likes school, especially science class.  She thinks it’s cool that I’m a scientist and that I teach biology to college students.  She learned that I am not married and do not have any children.  I learned that she likes to sing and dance.  Apparently, one of her favorite songs is the 1974 Pilot hit “Magic,”  which was one of my favorite songs when I was around her age.  All of the girls of The Beehive love the song, and they sang it for us on Tuesday night.  By the end of the walk, I had made my third and, as it would turn out, my best friend in Colombia.

After breakfast on Monday morning, our construction leader, James, divided us into two teams.  One team would work on the ceiling and floor in the church.  The other one, which I was on, would paint the girls’ beds and rooms.  Not only had God answered my prayer and given me something to paint, but he allowed us to serve the girls directly.  It was a special treat to see their faces light up when they came home from school each day and saw the work that we had done.  By the end of the week, we had transformed their entire upstairs sleeping and living area, and they were delighted.

On Monday night, a seven-year-old girl named Tatiana asked me through Lori if she could call me “Papi,” which is like “Daddy.”  Karen uses the slightly more formal “Papa,” but I gladly answer to both now.  They were happy for me to call them my “hijas,” or “daughters.”

All of the girls came to The Beehive after becoming wards of the state due to neglect and abuse in their original homes, but you would never know that from the way they interact with each other, with the house mothers and teachers, and even with strange missionaries from Columbus, Georgia.  God has poured so much love into them that it overflows to those around them.  Each day, all of the girls brought us fruit or desserts that they saved for us from their lunches and arts and crafts that they had made for us.  We often got notes with “Te amo” (“I love you”) written on them.

Karen, especially, was constantly attentive to my needs, getting me a chair if I was sitting on the floor or standing, making sure I knew when it was time to eat, offering me water in the middle of a crazy dance that she dragged me into, and regularly offering hugs and kisses on the cheek.  But the most touching moment for me was on Friday night.  At one point I noticed how attentive she was being to Tatiana.  I asked her if Tatiana is her sister.  Without hesitation, she responded simply, “Yes.”  I accepted her response at face value, but one of the other girls overheard our conversation and told me that Tatiana is Karen’s “hermana in Cristo” or “sister in Christ.”  But to Karen there is no such distinction.

I could say much more about Karen and the other girls.  I hope that you will take any opportunity you have to go there and receive a blessing from them like I did.  I will warn you, though, that they will steal your heart and they won’t give it back.

I mentioned early on that God’s spirit in me won a victory over my shy and reserved nature.  Perhaps you can already see in this story the extent of the victory.   The most amazing thing to me is that everything I did seemed at the time to be completely natural. It was as if my very nature had been transformed, at least for this time and for this work in Bogotá.