Valle Guanape (Anthony)

What a time we're having. I know that they don't keep stats on this kind of thing, but it feels like our team has to be about the busiest YES team ever. We just got back March 20th from a week in Valle Guanape (a small village near Charallave). A married couple in the church travels this 3 hour trip every two weeks and leads the people in devotional and prayer times for a couple days. They wanted to take us with them for the experience so we took off last Saturday morning and spent the week with them.

All 5 of us stayed with a local family in their small house. We provided all their food, as well as ours, for the week as a repayment for staying in their house. It was a very simple place: 2 small bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom, and a decent sized "living room" where everyone camped out for the night. Our week consisted of visiting the sick and elderly, teaching classes to the kids, and holding nightly services for the community. It was a good experience and an opportunity to visit a different part of the country and make some new friends.

We spent the afternoons resting up and the evenings working with the kids. It was somewhat encouraging to see more and more kids appear every night to spend time with us. At the same time, I couldn't escape the feeling that we were considered more like novelties than friends. By the time our final night rolled around, we had over 50 kids show up to the "fiesta" that we had promised them. We had planned a variety of games and activities to pass the time, and everything went really well. It is challenging, though, keeping a group of kids that big under control when only two of us can communicate fluently with them.

We had saved a big bag of blown up balloons for the end to make swords, animals, and hats for the kids. They were beginning to get antsy so we ended our games and made the mistake of telling them that we were finishing with the balloons. Before we knew what was happening, all 50 kids stampeded toward that poor bag of balloons and dog piled on top of it. Unfortunately, balloons don't hold up very well under that kind of pressure. When we finally pulled all the kids off, there were only a few balloons left. The sad part about the whole thing was that we had way more than enough balloons for all them. We had one other bag of normal balloons that we still hadn't used, and Lauren thought it might be a good idea to distribute the few we had left. She was fighting for her life, however, as soon as the kids caught sight of them. We ended up dismissing all of them with nothing because of their poor behavior.

Working with kids is something I love to do. I love to be a role model and watching a child grow up right before your eyes is one of life's greatest blessings. When I start working with a group of kids, I can instantly pick out the ones I would like to mentor and form a close relationship with. I found those kids in Valle Guanape as well. This made it all the more frustrating that we had to end our time with them in that way, and it provoked all kinds of questions of what we could have and should have done to avoid it. The most discouraging part was realizing that we would be leaving in the morning, never to see these kids again, and there is still so much work to do.

As I was relating these thoughts during evaluation time, Lilibet encouraged me with 1 Corinthians 3:6-8. "I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor." All that really matters now that the week is over is what God has worked in the hearts of these little ones. And truth be told, all we were doing was continuing to "water the seeds" that someone else had sown. The only thing left for me to do is pray for the continued work of the Holy Spirit in their hearts. It was a good word and very valuable as I continue to pursue what God has for me in these last 6 weeks.
s.

Hay Agua!

-Lauren Yutzy

It’s almost 6, Vicki and I wander around the apartment with the water faucets turned on. The water had been turned off all day and when we found out a time that water would be turned on for only a half hour- everything else is dropped and our lives revolve around the coming of water. 6 rolls around and we hold our breath until 6:03 when the blessed sound of water comes rushing out of the faucets. The whole neighborhood celebrates together with shouts of Hay agua! (There is water!) Now that there is water the work starts: there is a sink full of dishes that need to be washed, a load of dirty laundry to do, water to boil for drinking water, the bucket in our bathroom to fill so that on mornings without water we can take a bucket bath, and showers to take if wanted. Vicki and I split up the duties and get started. I have never appreciated having running water at anytime like now. I think one of the best showers I have ever had was a cold bucket bath that I didn’t think I would get because I had missed all the times when the water was turned on and the only reason I got this one was because the water was left on past the time that it was supposed to be shut off. Water is a luxury that I didn’t realize I had in the US.

Prayer requests: continued bonding with the people at this church, patience with the language and different time management, and for sanity with all of the plans given to us without enough time to do them all.
thanks for reading! Dios te bendiga!

Cross-Cultural Understanding

By Irene Menendez:

That is very important for this trip, I think. I really believed I knew latin culture but now, I know it isn't true. I have lived with Latin people in Spain but it's not the same as living with them here, in a Latin country. Venezuelan society is hospitable, friendly, affectionate...but it is also chauvinistic and idolatrous too.

I realized we live in comfortable and preferencial countries. I don't say that for material comforts as much as for spiritual comforts. This country has a great pressure of the enemy. In the beginning I thought the people here were very spiritual people, but really they need to be like that because the enemy uses each little detail or neglect to have power over them. He uses traditions, ignorance, inheritances...We complain about our country because we think that being young is difficult because we can't do some things like other young people can and they see us as odd people if we are really Christians; but here...I think you know, most people believe in God, but there is a great step between believing in God and following Him. Here people don't see you as odd if you say you love Jesus. Here the problem is to have to live in a bubble because most of the society is contaminated with the enemy, and for that reason, parents try to overprotect their kids.


Really this is not the theme about which I wanted to speak, but I thought it was important. It is a new theme. Some conversations with people here were about that, and while they haven't persuaded me, they have opened my eyes about that. Our society is a equal society relatively. Women and men have the same rights and duties. The road in our society to be in this position was long and difficult, and through it we won some things, but we lost a lot of good things too. Here they continue to practice the custom that a woman finishes working when she gets married, and she is at home and with kids. Women have to submit to men but really they have power just not principal power. They have other good things like have more kids for family and women use to sit before.

This society is so different, and some people say it is backward, but I see it with respect even though some things I do not agree with. There are other good customs that we have lost and it only merits respect.

Oops

Anthony wrote about spiritual heritage.
Jon wrote about beisbol.

Spiritual Heritage

Spiritual Heritage

As I sit down to write this update, my mind is filled with many things I have learned or been challenged with during my short time in Venezuela. Not the least of which is the reality of one’s “spiritual heritage.” Sure, I’m familiar with the phrase, but I’ve never understood just how blessed I really have been, until now.
In Venezuela, the first questions asked when becoming acquainted with someone are not work related but deal with the family. This is the conversation I had the other night with a sister in the church after opening introductions. “Nice to meet you, Anthony. And your mom, is she a Christian?”
To which I responded with a rather complacent, “Yes, yes she is.”
I was slightly taken aback, then, when she gave a resounding, “Praise the Lord!” followed quickly by, “And your father, does he know the Lord?”
“Of course he does,” my head responded, but I managed to say, “Why, yes, he’s a Christian too,” my voice not anywhere close to matching her excitement level.
“Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins?” the questions came as quickly as I could answer them.
“Yes, yes, and yes. My whole family is Christian, and we have been for many years.” And then, partly for fun (to see her reaction) and partly because I couldn’t think of what I really wanted to say in Spanish, I said, “We’ve just been lucky I guess.”
Another lady who had been listening shot back, “No, you have not. You know that don’t you? God has blessed your family. Luck has nothing to do with it.”
Yes, I do know that, but do I believe it? Conversations like this have opened my eyes to how blessed I really am. Coming into a Latin American culture, I guessed that my most enviable quality (besides my brilliantly blue eyes) would be my Americanism. Not so. I have talked to an incredible number of people who are the only Christians in their family. Thus, their greatest desire and passion is for the souls of their spouses, children, and parents. That makes a family like mine seem like the ultimate gift.
I can’t help but feel a little guilty as I listen to these people share their longing for their family with me. Not because of what I have been blessed with, but because of my failure to appreciate that blessing. My “spiritual heritage” is all I have ever known, and, unfortunately, I have proceeded to take it for granted. Needless to say, my eyes have been forced open. I am thanking God for the family that I have been blessed with, and I pray that these brothers and sisters will one day be able to experience the same reality.