tales of a soccer mom...wannabe...and the day when I was robbed in Costa Rica.

Working with families is night and day from working with youth, folks.

We've been having fun with the Family group this week...but I have to admit that I'm finding it hard to roll out of bed these days...and by 9, I'm wiped, and ready to be back in bed. I've mostly been working with the kids these last few days - helping drive them all around. It's hilarious...I've never felt more like a soccer mom. Loading, unloading and reloading 9 kids, 3 adults (at least) and a ton of stuff. Cleaning scrapes, drying tears, encouraging to keep going, blowing bubbles, telling stories. It's been fun, but I definitely have noticed the difference from the youth and from this!!

Here's some pictures to show you the joy of working with the kids...
It's been awesome having the kids doing servant evangelism - one of the favorites is for them to hand out pop outside of the grocery store right by the church.
Here is Gavin, who will be four tomorrow, showing how he lures in the strangers.
And here he is in action...
After all that, sometimes the kids actually just want to do the "real work" - here is Sarah and I loading dirt, while Jaden is helping out.I also have a story to share. Yesterday was the first time I've ever been robbed in Costa Rica. I had taken the kids and adults to a school in a very poor area, so that they could hand out pencils and notebooks. I told them that I would stay with the van so that nothing got taken. But I also left my window and the passenger side window open, because it was a rather hot morning, and I didn't want to suffocate. So here I am, sitting in the van, listening to the radio, and watching around me...observing...when I look to the left for two seconds, the same time when I see a hand reach in the passenger side window and grab the bag that was sitting right next to me...which didn't belong to me, but one of the moms. I see that the bag is now running down the street, along with four guys, probably between the ages of 18 and 20. So what do I do? Yell my lungs off, start the van, and start driving. What I was gonna do when I found them? I have no idea...but I just started going.

I drove past the kids, and saw the mom whose bag was taken, yelling at her, "what was in your bag? It just got taken!"...and then I proceeded to drive around the block looking for these four guys.

Now, I need to preface this and say that sometimes when people come to Costa Rica, they come with fears. Fears of safety, fears of the unknown, fears that that come with change that is out of their control. This mom, is one of those people. She lives her life as a nervous person. Yesterday morning, she had JUST started to feel like she was happy that she was here in Costa Rica, and that she could enjoy her time here this week. As soon as these guys took that bag, I thought, "NO! Not her bag. Anyone's bag but her's!"

She came into the van, pulled her two children together, and proceeded to sob. I felt awful. Not only did I feel responsible that her bag was taken...I felt like everything that she had progressed in during the few days had been taken away in that one action. She now was saying over and over, "I want to go home, I want to go home." It was an awful experience.

Now, I had to drive this van back to the church, full of children, scared as to why this one mom was crying, and not understanding that bad things just happen in life. I got back to the church, dropped them all off...and had to go back to another very poor area to pick up the guys who were working on a house. One of the other moms accompanied me, as I didn't know exactly where the house was.

So, we got to the neighbourhood, parked and locked the van, and then walked down some rickety steps into a tin-shack neighbourhood. We were forgetting exactly where to go...so I offered to stay in the main park area (which means dirt area used to congregate and play soccer) while Lesley went on ahead to find the group. As I was standing there, I was mad. I was so frustrated, so angry, so bitter that these guys would have the audacity to take a bag practically out of my hands...and that that bag would belong to someone who couldn't let that go, and saw it as a personal attack. She had been handing out presents for these children, and others took her own possessions. In this one action, she had decided she didn't want to be in Costa Rica, no longer loved the people of Costa Rica, and was convinced that all possible safety had been taken away from her.

While I was standing there, fuming, I looked over to my right, and saw two little boys sitting against a wall, smiling at me. One was probably just about 3, and the other not much older, 4 maybe 5. The 3 year old grinned at me, and motioned to me, saying in Spanish "come here!" I smiled, "me?" I replied. "Yeah, come here, come play!" I started running towards him, and he started to play with me, "come get me!" Next thing I know, he's running towards me, grabs my knees in a huge hug, and then motions for me to pick him up. So I pick this little guy up, and he starts saying, "You know my name? Guess my name! My name is Eliazar!" He was so loving, so enthusiastic, so willing to love and be loved. All my bitterness dissolved. All my anger melted. How could I remain so angry when a child was teaching me what joy meant?

God blessed that situation. Today, I'm pleased to say, that that mom found a lesson. She realized that her reaction was inappropriate, and decided that it was time to stand up and try again. She recognized that material possessions come and go. She brought her kids out again (she hadn't let them leave the church yesterday after all of this), and started opening her heart to the people of Costa Rica again.

Yesterday in all of this, we knew, we just knew, that God knew who's bag had been taken. There was a purpose there...a lesson to be learned...

And in the end? Four teenage guys got a Spanish Bible, some Christian childrens music, and an inhaler. Oh, and a new backpack.