There are days where my emotions go all over the place. I look at the sacrifices I make to do what I do. In comparison however mine are so small compared to others. I give up very little compared to so many. I visited the homes of two pastors recently and that reality hit me like a sledge hammer. Tin walls covered in rust held up by four wood posts stand on the ground. The door is secured by a small padlock that can easily be forced open. Inside is a plank of wood with a foam mattress and a sheet. In the corner you can see where the night fire burned to cook a small bite to eat. A plastic chair sits in the center of the dirt floor. There is no sink to draw water from or wash up after a long day in the dust. No shower or bathroom to speak of. The heat of the day is getting to me and the heat inside this home is one hundred fold what it is outside. The mid day sun beats down on the tin roof and turns the home in to an oven hot enough to bake bread it seems. Yet this Pastor stays firm in her faith and continues the work of our Lord. Not complaining about the circumstances rather praising God for his love and grace. I may sacrifice precious time away from my loved ones but in comparison I sacrifice nothing.

 A little later in the day we visited a farm out in the countryside of Managua. A small concrete and wood farm house sat just off the road surrounded by pasture land and fruit trees. You could here the roosters crowing and the cows belting out their moos for all to hear. The smell of ripened fruit was in the air as we pulled in. A saddled horse stood tied to a tree ready for work. You could see the pile of corn cobs off to the side where they had shucked the corn from the harvest. The woman of the house gathered wood to use in the wood fired stove to prepare our lunch. We walked in to the orchard to gather some fruit for a snack while we waited for the ladies to prepare lunch. It was such a beautiful place. It reminded me of the old westerns I would watch as a child on Sunday afternoons. I was waiting for little Joe and Hoss to come riding up. 

     Lunch was prepared that day in the farm kitchen. A wood fired stone oven and stove top stood in the corner of the room. Smoke filled the air along with the smell of the meat being cooked. A stone millstone sat on the counter that was used to mill the corn for the fresh tortillas. Old tin milk cans sat in the corner where the lady of the house made her fresh cheese. The only modern appliance was a crock pot and a blender. No fridge or microwave no mixer or fancy kitchen gadgets. This was old school and traditional. There was a small wooden platform tied from the rafter that hung just over the stove that had leaves laid on top of it. It was there that the cheese sat as it smoked and received it's smokey flavor. The women chatted about different things. They would laugh and giggle at me as I watched them work. I wondered to myself what this woman would do in a modern kitchen. I think she would prefer her rustic style over the modernized kitchen any day.

  Later we gathered in the front yard around a small wood table. A hammock that was tied to a tree served as an extra seat. We all sat together prayed over our meal and enjoyed fellowship together. We shared laughs and times of serious conversation about life and God. It seems not matter where I travel some of my favorite moments are those when sharing time over a meal with new and old friends. 

   Later that evening we went to a small church and had a time of worship together. No sound system or instruments just voices being lifted to the Lord. Clapping was the only sound other than the voices being lifted. Several times prayers for the service and congregation were spoken. People shared testimony or scripture. Old wood benches served as pews and the breeze blew in the openings in the walls where doors would soon be. The wooden rafters creaked when the wind would get strong. It was such a fruitful and glorious service.

   After service we gathered back at the farm house for a small meal and coffee. It was then when the whole day kind of hit me. I listened to the insects chirp and thought "God did that". I would feel the wind and think "God did that". The stars in the sky were so bright and I thought "God did that". I looked around at my friends enjoying this time of fellowship and thought "God is doing this". I sat in amazement of Gods work. I wished friends were there to share it with me. I hope that some day soon I can share a moment like this with my son. I was happy to be sharing time with friends. I was sad that some friends would never get this experience. I was amazed by the sights but also felt guilty that others could not share in the splendor. I laughed with my friends and yet cried a little on the inside knowing there is still so much sadness in the world. Why God chose me to be in this place still confuses me at times but I am sure glad he chose me. 

   This blog will never let express fully my love of what I do and the blessings I receive each day. I am blown away by who God chooses to support what I do. The relationships I have made with those I work with are one of the greatest gifts. On my very first trip here My friends and I met a young lady named Jenny. She was there to help the local Pastor take care of us missionaries. She would wake each morning and prepare our breakfast and tend to our needs. She would go with us out in to the field and work right along side of us. She would fix lunch and dinner each day and at night she slept in what was basically a shed outside the church where we were staying. She told us one night that she felt the calling to be a Pastor. We were so happy for her. We would chat every so often via Facebook and I would ask how she was. She would always say " I am well Thank God". One of our later trips we were able to get her a study bible for her to use while studying to be a Pastor. She wept so uncontrollably that we all ended up tearing up. She is one of the sweetest kindest people I have ever met. When i arrived for this trip I was told about the condition of her home. It was in pretty rough shape and needed repairs. Better yet she needed a new house period. The cost was figured up at a bible study group one night and then presented to other local Pastors to see if they could help. I wanted to help as well. My funds are limited to put it nicely but I thought maybe my friends could  and would want to help. I posted on social media the need and what I got in response blew me away.  The Pastors had already come up with half of the money needed to build Jenny a new home of concrete. The house she currently resides in is nothing more than four poles and some scrap tin and wood. Her new home would be made of concrete. The day after I put the word out she needed help a friend from my childhood whom I least expected to help sent word through his dad that he wanted to help. Not only did he cover the cost he gave more so jenny will now get a few other much needed things for her new home. I have learned never to doubt how much God provides and when he provides it. I do however get amazed by the ones he uses to bless me and this ministry. God is so good.

  What a journey I have been on the past three years. When I started down this road I had no idea where it would lead. My first trip friends and I helped build a church building. Next thing you know I was working with a ministry that had a children's home a Christian high School and a feeding program. I preached my first time on Nicaraguan soil. There were so many firsts that happened over the last couple of years. It took tremendous amounts of faith at times. One of my fondest memories was being able to speak at my friend Pastor Jairo Ortiz's church. It wasn't much more than a small shed type building and a lean to. Over the past year or two when ever he has had the funds available he has purchased material and slowly started building the walls of his church. It may not look like much to some but to me it is beautiful. It was built with his hands and his sheer will to complete what God laid on his heart. He will tell you that he wanted to cave many times. His wife at times did not agree with his direction on becoming a minister or spending what little extra money they had on building his church. He will tell you that without his faith none of it would be possible. His faith is his driving force. He says he is on a road of faith at all times. So it made since that the name of his church was Road Of Faith.

  The plane came in hot! I thought to myself this must be this pilot’s first time flying in to Managua. As I walked to the door I spotted the pilot. I gave him a smile and asked if this was his first time here to which he chuckled and said “How did you guess that?” I smiled and said “you came in mighty hot for this short runway.”  He held his head in shame and the flight attendants both said at the same time “ Told ya” and let out a chuckle.

  I more often than not go through the same line at customs. The agent takes my passport runs it and looks back and says “Welcome back it has been a while since we have seen you”. I don’t know if he remembers me or if he just looked at the info on the screen but to me it was like a friend not seen in a while saying it’s about time you came home.

  I was welcomed at the gate by a little princess who grinned from ear to ear and said “Hola Aaron.” Her mother and my sister in Christ welcomed me like a member of the family. All I could think was it’s about time. It had been 7 months since I had been here and it felt like longer. I really enjoyed my time in Ecuador but there is no place like here in my heart.

  We walk out the door and all familiar heat gut punched me. The smell of diesel exhaust permeated my nose and I loved it. There was the normal arguing with the baggage handlers that I don’t need help and if I did I can’t get to my money to give you a tip. As the little red Izuzu Trooper pulled up all I could do was smile. My good friend Pastor Johnny gave me a grin and a pat on my knee and said “Welcome Brother I am happy”.

We made our way to the office and spent some time catching up and discussing what we each hoped to accomplish on this trip. We shared a meal together and even had his two year old daughter Anita there to entertain us. He tells me he wanted me to preach that night but could not find a translator. My Spanish isn’t good enough yet for that so it will have to wait.

  We pulled in to a very familiar barrio and I quickly realized I had been to this church twice before and knew many of the members. As the children came in I was amazed by how much they had grown. Pastor Jorge came and embraced and welcomed me back to his church. We pulled the chairs in a circle and chose a passage to study. Everyone took turns reading as we went through the chapter. Young and old alike read aloud the words of Jesus. I read and of course someone had to read it again so that all would understand.

  It was such a blessing to be a part of. I can’t wait to see what this trip has in store.