Dios Movió La Montaña

¿Sabe cómo la gente dice "literalmente" cuando, en verdad, dice figuradamente? ¿Por ejemplo, "Yo era literalmente al final de mi cuerda"? Este no es un tiempo así.

El martes, tres días atrás, Dios literalmente movió una montaña para mí, para mover otra montaña fuera de mi vida.

Por muchas semanas antes de mi viaje a Costa Rica, Juan había sido orando sobre mis temores. Él me dijo, "No es la voluntad de Dios que tengas miedo."

Yo le dije, "Mis inseguridades son un parte de mi personalidad. Siempre lucho con ansiedad cuando cosas estresantes ocurren, pero todo está bien. Dios me ayuda cada vez. Yo medito en las promesas en su Palabra, y Dios me calma."

Juan no acordaba. Aunque yo estaba demasiado orgullosa que lo admita, sabía que Juan tenía razón. En secreto, me pregunté, "¿Cómo podría Dios me libere de mi miedo? "

Un día, este versículo tocó mi corazón: "Porque de cierto os digo que cualquier que dijere a este monte: Quítate y échate en el mar, y no dudare en su corazón, sino creyere que será hecho lo que dice, lo que diga le será hecho." (Marcos 11:23)

Yo dije, "Mi montaña es miedo. Por favor, Padre, mueve la montaña de miedo de mi vida."

Aún así, pensé, "¿Cómo es posible?"

Pages Yet to be Turned

After our first phone call, Juan and I talked every day, sometimes for hours. Each conversation ended with a bilingual prayer, and always we declared blessings over each other and over our children. The most beautiful blessing that Juan prayed was something like this: 

Padre, yo pongo Sarah y sus hijos en sus manos. Gracias que ellos son cubierto con el sangre de Jesus, con una valla de angeles alrededor de ellos. (Father, I place Sarah and her children in your hands. Thank you that they are covered with the blood of Jesus, with a fence of angels surrounding them.)

I can't share the details here, but a few days later, I saw evidence that God was answering that prayer, and I was so grateful to have someone praying for our protection.

When we talked about starting a relationship, I warned Juan that I would surely struggle with many insecurities; he would be the first person I'd dated since my divorce six years ago. "I don't want you to be my practice boyfriend," I said. 

"Do you think you're ready for a relationship?" he asked.

Sometimes a Week is Just Too Long

Up until my second coffee date with Juan and Darwin, I had only attended Palabra Viva once per week due to my busy teaching schedule. But I couldn't resist going to church that next day; a week was just too long to wait.

You can imagine my disappointment when a quick scan of the parking lot revealed that Hermano Juan and his orange Mitsubishi were missing. Where could he be? He was always at church, and always on time.

Inside, I knelt at the altar and repented for coming to church, in a cute outfit and matching jewelry (on a work day!), for the wrong reason. My Father was here, and so were many of my brothers and sisters. I asked God to help me receive everything that He had planned for me this evening.

After our individual prayers in silence, Hermana Lupita led a corporate prayer. I was happy to see that I could understand her prayer just as I could Juan's. Her prayer, like his, encouraged me greatly.

After service, I enjoyed chatting with a sweet lady over café y pan (coffee and sweet bread). Ulda is learning English, and I'm learning Spanish, so we are a perfect match. 

In the end, I was glad that Juan had been absent, because had he been there, I would have been talking with him and would have missed the opportunity to make a new friend.

But a week was still too long. As soon as I woke up on Friday (at 6!), I typed this Facebook message with trembling fingers:

Just Coffee... Or Something More?

Remember my big adventure at the beginning of the year, when I somehow ended up visiting a Spanish-speaking church where I knew just one person, only as an acquaintance? In this blog entry, I described my struggle between playing it safe and trying something new:

Could I really show up at a church full of strangers who speak a different language than me? Surely it would be safer to stay where it's comfortable, where life is predictable, if rather boring.

"Lord, thank you for being my gatekeeper," I prayed at bedtime. "You know the hearts of every person, and I trust you to bring all of the friends that you have chosen for me into my life. So, should I go to this church tomorrow?"

God let me choose, and I decided to take a chance. If you've been reading for a while, you know about my first couple of visits. I've been attending Wednesday services there since January, and everyone there has welcomed me as una hermana (sister).

My goal in visiting Palabra Viva (Living Word) was to practice listening to Spanish; I can read, write, and speak it fairly well, but I can't converse because I have a difficult time recognizing the spoken words. I now think that God's plan in bringing me there was very different, though I still don't know the end goal.