Las Visitas                   

By Linda Muth

 

First, there was a call; then there was a phone call:

“Vonda, I’ve had a vision from God.”

“…ok. . .”

“I was in Los Heroes, walking from house to house, knocking on doors . . . and you were with me.”

“…OK . . .”

“I believe God is sending us out, the two of us, like Jesus sent his disciples.  We are supposed to go and share the love of Jesus with people who don’t go to church in the community.  What do you think?”

“OK!”

Thanks be to God that I have a friend with strong faith and the courage to say “yes” to a second-hand-call.  It was February, 2002.

Our preparations for the trip were pretty simple.  We had both been to our sister community of Los Heroes de la Fe twice before:  once on a Greater Milwaukee Synod delegation in August of 2000, and a second time with our families over Christmas vacation in December of 2001.  Each of those visits included short stays in the community,  teaching in the school, running a little clinic, and  presenting gifts to the community in support of mission projects our home church, St. John’s in Brookfield, had undertaken. 

But the trip God had called us to take this time was not about projects—God wanted us to focus on the sharing the message of the gospel.  So, we took a class entitled “Todos en Español,”  purchased 300 small copies of the Gospel of John (in Spanish), and invited the kids at our Vacation Bible School to donate T-shirts with the message “Cristo te ama” for the kids at Los Heroes.  It was summer.

In the midst of our final preparations, Vonda’s dad lost his battle with cancer.  God used that time to teach us about patience, about suffering, about friendship, about death, about consolation, and about faith.  Our plans gave way to God’s plan.  It was fall.

We boarded a plane to San Salvador , trusting that God would provide us with food to eat, places to sleep, and enough Spanish to get by.  We prayed that God would guide us as we looked for a way to carry out the visits.  We were pretty scared.  When we arrived in San Salvador , we were greeted by about 80 people—both friends and strangers—who just wanted to hug us, to touch us, to be with us. God’s love is an awesome thing, and our fear melted away.

From September 26^th through October 5^th, the two of us, Linda y Vonda, lived in the community of our sister congregation Los Heroes de la Fe.  It was clear from the beginning, that the Holy Spirit had touched the heart of Pastor Santiago (our sister congregation’s pastor) and that God had given him the plan to carry out the vision of visiting homes in the community.  Each visit began with the family graciously inviting us in, “Pase, pase.” They were honored to serve us, and we were humbled by their hospitality.  We asked them to tell us their stories, and we listened.  We cried.  We hugged.  We loved.  We prayed.

Every visit was a story worth telling.  A few visits stand out:  the young girl whose husband died while climbing a mango tree to pick its fruit, and whose infant son became sick and died shortly thereafter—her smile was mesmerizing as she spoke of the one thing which sustained her—her faith.  There was the woman whose 14-year-old son was living somewhere in the streets, looking for a better way of life, while his mother worried and cared for her other children, including a brand new baby boy, who reminded her of her missing son.  A woman told us of her son who had become involved with other youth who believed in witchcraft.  She agonized over the death this son, who had appeared to abandon God and who she believed was not in heaven.   That was one time we really needed to share words of encouragement, and God provided them. 

Each visit ended with the presentation of the Gospel of John to the family.  For many, this was the first time they received the printed Word of God.  It was received as a great treasure.  Then we prayed together, and two women of the church, who accompanied us on the visits, extended an invitation to the family to come to a special worship service.

The visits concluded.  The special worship service was fantastic—with the little church packed with people even though it was a stormy night.  We recognized one special man from our visits—he was unable to walk, and was carried by two young men, up the long, slippery path to the church. 

We will go again, Lord, if you need us.  We will hold your people in our hearts.