Sorry this whole process is so slow moving. I'm finding each blog post is taking way longer that I expected due mostly in part to rambling asides such as this.
Anyway.
I awoke the morning of Day 3 with a peculiar sense of confidence and motivation for the day at hand. I say peculiar because we had reached the public speaking portion of the trip. One of our translators, Jennifer, had arranged for our group to speak to the high schoolers at the school she teaches at. Each one of us were to share our testimony, (i.e. our past, how Jesus showed up, the radical change that ensued, and how we now use the individual artistic gifts we've been given to glorify Him.) Now, I'm not exactly petrified of public speaking, but the public aspect does prove a very effective inconvenience for my nerves. That morning however, the scales tipped towards: "Okay, let's do this." rather than the incumbent: "Okay, I have to do this."
That morning, at breakfast, while I awaited my pancakes with honey or omelet with honey, (can't remember which I had that particular morn) my common state of preoccupation actually felt semi productive this time. I knew my testimony. I mean, I lived it. But I was getting stuck on how I was going to present it in a way that would resonate with these kids. The last time I could remember speaking to and trying to relate corporately to high schoolers was when I was actually in high school myself, giving robotic orations that have had their spines mercilessly removed and replaced with topic sentences and bullet points. I also remember the typical despondency that seems to be innate in high schoolers and how presentations tended to cause that trait to flare up. Now, this was in fact a private Christian school, which may or may not make the latter statement even more valid. Anyway, that was my focus during prayer that morning; how to effectively reach and relate to these kids.
During prayer, God kept impressing on me that these kids need to hear just how much God loves them, and how important comprehending that fact is. It was something I had the hardest time believing during my teenage years and it rendered me depressed and without a healthy sense of identity. So, I had my entry point. The rest would just be an outflow of my heart, letting the Holy Spirit say what He wants to say.
After a little trouble finding the school as it lay rather secluded in a sparse and somehow threatening feeling rural area, we arrived. Upon parking we walked down a dirt road leading to the back of the K-12 school where they apparently kept the high schoolers. Again, some odd sense of threat in the area:
We set up shop in an impressively large outdoor stage area. Soon the high schoolers filed in, sporting their white and blue tracksuit uniforms. As everyone got settled, we learned that these kids actually knew English pretty well, so we could speak to them directly and forgo a translator this time.
So, Scott got things started off with his lighthearted, easy-going antics. Got the kids laughing and then went into his story. Each team member then preceded to present their testimony, all of which I've heard at least in part. That fact does not change, however, the power that lies behind each one. Every person who shared has had RADICAL transformation in their lives due to Jesus showing up and enacting His heart-changing truth. Heavy, heavy situations of abandonment, drugs, abuse, rape, you name it, every person had a unique situation from which they came, but every one of us was standing there today, transformed, because of an encounter with the person of Jesus Christ.
Well, my turn comes around and by then I had realized something. My upbringing stood in stark contrast to many of the stories I had just heard. I grew up with a mom and a dad who were always there for me, loved me overtly, provided all the comforts of an upper middle-class income, my sister and I got along swimmingly and I didn't really have to pay for much of anything except for gas to put in the car my parents bought me. I had every foreseeable need met, I even grew up going to church and had a relationship with Jesus, but I still managed to fall into despair. How could something like this happen? This is medium in which I gave my message.
I spoke of how even though I did have a relationship with Jesus growing up and understood with my head, and to many extents, my heart, the essence of His work on the Cross, my actions and state of constant fear and neurosis proved evident that I wasn't quite ready to believe it with my entire being. That I still felt like I had to earn God's love. That my citizenship in heaven was somehow unassured and in someway mine to lose. I told them about my being diagnosed with of a form of OCD called Scrupulosity and my various antidepressants and trips to therapists; all of this stemming from an obsessive fear of somehow becoming unredeemable. Then, I let them know of how God has been with me the entire time and over the last few year's I've finally come to the realization that there is absolutely no way I can outrun God's love, and that I now consider myself with upmost confidence, a citizen of the Kingdom of Heaven. In fact, I neglected to even tell them about how I was a photographer. I was too wrapped up in making sure these kids understood how much God is in love with them; constant, continual, perpetual love with them; regardless of circumstance or past deeds, or future deeds for that matter. God loves them right where they stand.
After the presentations, Scott let the group in prayer and then we mingled with the kids a bit. After paying homage to my high school days by assuming the wallflower stance, I was soon approached by a girl named Mariapaula. She was such a sweetheart. She thanked me for sharing and began to express her love for Jesus and how she plays in the worship band at school. She also expressed her current dilemma of wanting to pursue music further in college, while her parents were wanting her to err on the financially safer side with a medical degree. We conversed for a while and I imparted some encouragement and, hopefully, knowledge into her situation.
As we talked, I learned that a while back, a pastor and his wife prophesied over her in regards to her musical ability. Basically, while they were conversing, the pastor told Mariapaula to sing for him and his wife. Taken aback by the abruptness of his request, she floundered a bit and explained that she would need some form of accompaniment or at least some prep time, but the pastor and his wife were insistent. In fact, they sat on the ground until she acquiesced. So, she sang. When she had finished, the pastor told her that God was going to use her voice to touch the lives of many people.
By this point the school bell had rung and most of the kids were off to their next class. I asked if she should be getting to class, but she quickly responded by saying that she could go to class anytime, but only had this one time to talk with us. So, after a little more conversation involving the miracles of both her and her brother even being alive. (Her brother was born at 6 months gestation and she was born without an organ [she didn't specify which one.]) she thanked me again, and made a point to go around thank every other Evoke team member. Honestly, she was such an encouragement with the love of the Lord and overall maturity she displayed.
She's the one with the big ol', sweet earrings. The one on the left is Amera, she break dances.
More pictures from the presentation:
Later on in the trip, Jennifer revealed to me that many of the kids felt like they could relate to my story. (Praise God!) You see this demographic was an outlier of sorts when compared to the rest of the groups we spoke with on the trip. Like me, many of the them came from a rather affluent and cohesive family. In fact, almost all of them had plans of going to college in the US. So, when I talked of having a very privileged life and still managing to find depression, it resonated.
Anyway, after some juice boxes at the school cafe and interacting with some giggly elementary schoolers while Scott made a cameo in Jennifer's 3rd grade class, we headed back to the hotel.
Later that afternoon, the girls hosted a jewelry making workshop for around 35 active prostitutes in a city government building. This event was hosted by Evokes chief jeweler, Lirio. Lirio has a beautiful and ever-growing line of jewelry that she crafts herself and has a heart that is specifically soft for those trapped in prostitution and sex slavery. Though the men refrained from helping out due to the sensitivity of the situation, we did hear about the experience afterwards. I think the girls almost unanimously agreed that it was the most trying experience they've had so far on the trip.
Upon arriving, they were greeted by a room was hot and poorly lit and many of the women had brought their children along, adding to an already noisy and distracted atmosphere. Though attentions were hard to hold as Lirio made her way from table to table showing each of the women how to make their own bracelet, slowly but surely, conversations were being had and hearts were starting to soften. The women were starting to open up, and the girls were able to connect with them. After spending time praying over the women, girls passed out some new clothes and encouraged them that God was with them and that prostitution did not have to be their life. God will proved a way out.
I will go ahead and say it now, there are already tangible repercussions from the girl's faithfulness that night. We've heard that two of the women decided to leave prostitution and open up roadside stands instead. One of them began attending the church of one of our local correspondents two Sundays ago and is being welcomed with open arms! God is in the business of transforming hearts and lives!
Okay, so while all that goodness was going on, the guys hung out around the base of the government building in a town square type area. We were waiting for Antonio as he had disappeared to somewhere within the bowels of the government building. As we waited, George, the English talking homeless guy from Day 1, approached Scott. They began to converse and seemed to be having quite the deep discussion. On a side note, Scott wasn't involved with our first interaction with George, so he was basically meeting him for the first time. Soon, George, Scott and Karina were off to go get food. Scott bought George dinner, anything he wanted, and told him to get more for later.
After they returned to the rest of the group, Antonio finally emerged from the building with a huge(r than normal) smile on his face. "You'll never believe what just happened to me!" He said. Antonio then proceeded to explain how he came across someone while inside who took him throughout the entire building, even to areas of restricted access, and he was asked to pray over certain rooms which were described as having many devils. They would interrupt meetings and explain that Antonio was a missionary from America and he would then pray over the room. He even was given access to the governors office even though she was out of town, and he prayed over that. They also had him dedicate an entire empty floor to the Lord.
Once the girls were finished, we headed back to the hotel. On our way, we came across George again. This time, he was the one with the huge smile. He raved about how he hasn't felt this full in years. He kept thanking us and going on about how much he ate. He then began to explain how he can't get us out of his head. He said, that the words Alexsa spoke and prayed over him have been buzzing around his mind ever since. He said he even tried to get high the night we met and it did nothing for him, he just got sick. Same thing with alcohol, just threw it up. We encouraged him, letting him know that The Lord is working in his life. He agreed. He said he even finds himself giving advice to those in the homeless community around him. This man was becoming human again, and even deeper than that, he was taking strides towards his identity as a child of God.
That night, we went to a pizza place sensibly titled, "Kosher Pizza." I will say, Colombia has an unexpectedly impressive pizza scene. Like any good Americans, we basically took over the back room of the restaurant and proceeded to bludgeon the rest of the patrons with boisterous eruptions from the back. We even spilled over into the kids room, which was adorned with terrifying versions of Pixar characters. I found that Colombia loves them some Pixar, 'specially Toy Story. So much so as to make these nightmarish effigies:
After recovering from PTSD Bullseye and Jessie's soulless edifice of an expression, we managed to surprise Antonio with a pretty killer birthday cake. I use killer homonymously in that sentence because the "candle" protruding from the cake was essentially a road flare. Once the fire hazard was effectively extinguished and most of the cake was used for it's intended purpose, the preverbal cake fight broke out, followed by a serendipitous homeless mariachi band that we played off as being Antonio's birthday serenaders. After leaving the restaurant (likely in shambles,) we returned to the hotel to chill and eventually sleep.
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