The day after the advisory board meeting, I reflected on my first year in Guatemala. I taught sixth-grade missionary children in a suburb of Guatemala City. I felt like I contributed to the ministry by working with the students and by being involved in the Guatemalan community. (You can read about these mission projects in the previous posts, seven through fourteen.) I felt content with my position as a teacher and had no doubt about need. Teachers are in great demand on every mission field. I played a small part in filling that need, but I still felt the tug of the Lord moving me onto something else.
My eyes had been opened to the state of third-world children living in poverty. I heard of little girls being used and abused in ways that broke my heart. Some were targets of an alcoholic or drug-induced family member, who physically lashed out in frustration and anger. The child sometimes carried the marks for weeks, and sometimes the scars remained for life. Gangs took advantage of the yearning these kids had for a family and a sense of belonging. Once you are a member of a gang you must comply with the orders of the leaders. Nobody is allowed to leave the gang—alive. Sexually, girls here are an open market. It is common practice for stepfathers or boyfriends of mothers to take advantage in the home. Many girls are forced into child prostitution without an age limit for such activity. If pregnancy occurs, then the girl is cast aside like a piece of dirty garbage. I asked myself, What can I do to help these children. I knew I could pray, but I wanted action. I saw a social structure where men took liberties with young girls for their own selfish pleasures, and no accountability existed. These norms were strong in this culture, and my heart ached for the little girls who had to bear the consequences of these ungodly ideas and wicked passions. They needed someone to take them away and put them in a safe place with security, love, food, and hope. They needed to know that before the creation of the world, God had a plan for their lives. They needed to hear that they were not some fluke accident but created for a good purpose. Could God be leading me in this proposal? My mind filled with a multitude of questions, but I felt in my heart an openness to move in such a direction according to God’s plan. It was a God-thing. Who else could take a single teacher from Montana and a woman from Alaska and have them meet in Guatemala. Both having the same strong desire to make a difference in the lives of hurting children and form an orphanage?

My eyes opened to the fact that if I were willing, I could do more. Hadn’t I been praying for that opportunity? Would I trust the Lord in this huge venture? Would I say yes and accept this as part of the plan God had written down in HIs book before the creation of the world? Hadn’t God proven to me, from past experiences, that He would give me what I needed to fulfill a calling He’d given me? Humbled before Him, I said yes to all of the above questions. I needed to refocus on the Lord and get my thoughts off of myself. I walked in hope and trust with the Lord and knew His love drew others to Him. I could only imagine what changes would take place in the lives of abandoned hurting children if they lived in this truth. I know what it did for me. Okay, Lord, count me in. 

Joanne and I met that evening, seeking the Lord for direction. “Father, is it your plan for us to start this orphanage? When would we do this if it is your desire?” We waited for answers.

“The dream!” I exclaimed. “I had a dream several years ago before leaving Montana and coming to Guatemala. I now understand what the dream meant.”