Words are cheap when it comes to telling the stories of these children and describing the incredible impact they have had on my life. My heart is beyond broken and I can’t seem to figure out what to do with it. Their precious faces continue to pop up in my mind, and their stories continue to tug at my heart. The injustice , the poverty, the disparity, and the hurting in this world is so unfair and I have found my self constantly asking why... Being back in the states doesn’t feel right anymore.. I feel so called and so pulled, I am so passionate about these people I can hardly contain it anymore. Being patient is something that is definitely about to kill me right now. I want to pick up and move to El Salvador or Africa, but for some reason God has me here for right now. I can hardly even talk about it, or share my experiences without breaking down. I know God has given me a desire to be there for a purpose that He will one day fulfill.
My mind keeps wondering back to Kike.. I already shared some of Kike’s story in a previous post, but as I had to leave him on Monday, I didn't think I could do it. I began to walk away crying wondering if I would get the chance to see him again. Chris stayed behind for a few minutes and I later found out that he was promising Kike I would be back to see him before I left. He worked it out to where I was able to go back and see him the last day I was there, Friday. That Friday was a day like none other. I experienced emotions I didn't think possible, and tears I couldn't control. Throughout the week Kike was all I could think about... I began to have a love for him that I hadn't known before. I loved him like my own and was desperate to do everything I could for him. I walked into his room and found him sitting up. He was anxiously waiting. I pulled one of the puppets out and started talking to him in English. Although he doesn't understand English, just the sound of someone talking to him was comforting. With one of his hands holding mine close to his chest, he took his other hand and pointed to himself and then to the mouth of the puppet.... He wanted to talk.... He wanted me to know that he understood me and he wanted to talk back but he couldn't... Although I longed to hear his voice, I know that he rests in the fact that one day he will be able to talk again. His lunch time rolled around and I had the privilege of feeding him. The broth of soup was all that what was left of his stomach could handle. Little by little I fed him. I was reminded of the verse in Matthew 25 that says "As you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me". As I sat there feeding him, I was feeding Jesus. I felt completely unworthy. He began having trouble swallowing, and spewed his food everywhere. Not once, but twice. It got all over me, but I didnt care one bit. I sat up on the bed with him and he leaned over and laid on me. I knew these were my last moments with him and that I should cherish them even more. I held him close and all I could do was just pray asking God to bless his life, and give him peace that surpasses all understanding. Chris told Kike that it was time for me to leave, and as I laid him back down, tears began to roll down his cheeks. I had never seen him express any kind of emotion other than through his sweet eyes. It killed me having to lay him in the bed and leave him there. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do... Ever.. It has never been so hard for me to trust God and trust that Kike is in His hands when I would rather him be in mine. But there is not better place to be than in the hands of God, our savior, redeemer, and healer.I want him to know that in Christ, we are more than conquerors and we have defeated the grave. I so longed to tell Kike that one day he will be able to walk again and talk again. He will be able to dance with Jesus and say everything that he wanted to say but couldn’t. He will be able to sit at the feet of Jesus without shaking and will have a crown in Heaven like no other. . I pray that angels are guarding him, surrounding him, and giving him peace. I pray that God continue to use me in Kike's life in whatever way that may be. I pray that his story touches many lives as it has mine.
My heart has never been so broken.. I’ve never cried so many tears in such a short time.. But Kike’s life has had a huge impact on mine. After meeting him, I will never bethe same again.
Friday night, we got to feed the homeless one last time. We didn't have very much food bagged that night and we took less meals with us than we had any other time we fed the homeless. Just as He did in Mark, Jesus multiplied the food we had that night. We were out on the streets for 2 and a half hours passing out food. We were able to pray with a group of prostitutes, fill many empty stomachs, and supply so many with the Word of God. That night was so humbling. On the platform of an abandoned warehouse I handed a man a bag of food whose feet were literally rotting off. I saw people climb out from cracks and corners and run after the truck begging for food. There is so much need in El Salvador, so much.. And I so long to be there. Please pray for these people and pray that God shine his light in the midst of the darkness there.
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