We love a good story...

This fundraising journey has included a lot of food and friends. I find that there is nothing like talking about our hearts and future over a shared meal. Not that I don't like going out to eat, but there is just something relaxing about having people in our home. There is no rush and feeling like I'm cheating a waitress out of another table. We don't have to wrangle kids or try to get them to be quiet for the other patrons. Nope. It's just us and you sitting down for some good food and good conversation in my little house. 

Part of good conversation to me always includes story. Yesterday I got to retell one of my all-time favorite stories from my time in Ecuador. It's been a good decade since it happened, so I figured it was time to retell this story on the blog too. 

But just know, Steven and I are full of stories... from the past, the present and what we are hoping to do in the future. We'd love to have you over to hear more of your stories or share with you a few of ours! 
In the meantime, hope you enjoy a good laugh on me...

I spent 2 years as a missionary in Ecuador working at a coffee shop outreach to High School and University students. I was learned spanish while I was there so as you can imagine there were lots of opportunities for things to get lost in translation. I learned the hard way that you don’t just answer “Sí” when you don’t understand the question.

I had plans to hang out with my friend. We were going to go swimming in the afternoon, but she called me to tell me she had to cancel the swimming, but she wanted me to accompany her to ____________ (a bunch of words I didn’t know). I asked her to repeat it, but to be honest, if you don’t know a word, it doesn’t matter how SLOW someone says something or how many TIMES they say it, you’re just not going to get it. So, I just say “Sí” and asked her when she was going to come by my house.

When she got to my house, it was raining like mad so I thought we might not go and just postpone it to another day, but she was insistent on going. She was also a bit dressed up which I found rather strange due to the fact that she’s never dressed up. I asked her if I should change and she said I was fine. So I grabbed my chaccos, my rain jacket and rolled up my jeans a bit because it was pouring. When the taxi driver asked her where we were going, she said a church. I was a little taken aback because she’s not the church going type. And I said, "I didn't know you went to church." And she said, "I don't. Only when I go to (a bunch of words I didn't know)." We arrived at the church and everyone, and I mean EVERYONE was dressed up. As I looked at the bulletin that we received when we walked in, I realized that everyone was wearing black…

I quickly realized that we weren’t just in ANY mass. We were at a funeral. Yep, those words I didn't know... they meant “funeral”… actually burial which was a word I learned very quickly after that moment. 

Once the funeral finished, I breathed a sigh of relief and asked if we were leaving and she said yes, we were off to the cemetery. After about fifteen minute, we arrived at the cemetery where they attempted to put the casket into the ground. In the States, you lower the casket it… in Ecuador they put it in at an angle.  So now you have a bunch of women yelling at a bunch of men as to HOW to best put this casket in the ground. All I could think was: sweet Jesus if this man falls out of the casket, I don’t know what I’m going to do. 

Thankfully they got him in place and then they put all the flowers that were at the funeral all over his gravesite. My friend had a flower in her hand, but she decided last minute she didn’t want to step up and put in on his grave, so she gave it to me. So here I am, a gringa wearing sandals and a rain jacket holding a funeral flower.

Needless to say, God does not do things like this to me for nothing because on the way home my friend began to disclose to me her family and their “religious” ties. The obvious question was, “What are you?” And she said she didn’t know… she was nothing. She began to ask me about me, “Are you religious?” And I got the joy of sharing with her that I didn’t like religion. That what I have is a relationship with God because of what Jesus did for me on the cross. 

As we walked back toward town she asked me if I wanted to get some lunch and I said, "Where?" To which she responded: ca efe ce. And I thought, well, I guess if I’ve been saying yes to all these other words I don’t know, it can’t get any worse. 

As we turned the corner I breathed a sign of relief as we walked up to KFC.

A few days later I felt like the Lord was asking me an open ended question… would you do anything for me? I think that He will be the only person I answer “Sí” to even if I don’t know what he’s really asking.