In Nicaragua, I have the privilege
of meeting the leaders of rural communities throughout the country,
who work with CEPAD on behalf of their communities. These men
and women seek resources, bring people together in projects, and
often walk or ride horseback for hours to extend CEPAD’s
ministries to other communities. Some have confided in me, telling
me painful stories about their lives that not even their own children
know about. Others share with me the joy of an upcoming wedding,
telling me how they met their boyfriend and what he is like.
I travel with CEPAD staff all over Nicaragua. In the confines
of the car with the visual stimulation of the mountains and valleys
they tell stories of their grandfathers who fought with Sandino
for Nicaragua’s national autonomy in the 1920s, and stories
of participating in the Sandinista literacy campaign of 1980.
They tell how 100,000 Nicaraguan youth from 14-20 years old brought
illiteracy down from over 60 percent to less than 15 percent in
a matter of months.
I hear the stories of long-term international mission workers
and volunteers who came to Nicaragua for a year or two and then
decided to stay. These are people who drove ambulances in the
war zone in the 1980s, who work with churches, schools, and partner
organizations here in Nicaragua. They carry out ministries with
Nicaraguans, working with street children, rural women, or youth
in urban neighborhoods. Some work with visiting delegations, educating
people from other countries about life in Nicaragua and how foreigners
and Nicaraguans are connected through economics, politics, and
faith.
I hear stories from U.S. folks, too, who visit Nicaragua on these
short-term delegations. They come with divergent motivations at
different places in their lives. Some are going through major
life changes. Corporate executives, blue-collar workers, and students
visit. Each person has her or his own personality; each group
its own dynamic. One recent delegate won a gold medal in the Olympics
as the pitcher on a softball team in the early 1980s! A person
involved in a partnership told me that she had a grandmother who,
in the early twentieth century, was a “whistler” in
vaudeville shows. With another delegate I shared an exciting and
emotional moment of meeting some of her adopted child’s
biological Nicaraguan family members. It is important for me to
remember that each visitor from the United States has a different
story and that the way they experience Nicaragua hinges largely
on what is going on—or has gone on—in their lives
in the United States.
Nicaragua is full of stories. Then again, stories are everywhere.
Everyone has stories to tell. I suppose we simply need to take
the time to listen.
One story in my own life is that I am three months’ pregnant!
We will appreciate your prayers as we anticipate the blessings
and challenges that will come with the joyful addition of a child
in our family in late February 2005.
May God richly bless you in your life! And help you hear and
experience stories wherever you go.
Love
Ellen Sherby
The 2004 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
254 |
