I am finding it hard to write lately. It’s a bit like walking on eggshells barefoot or peeling dry skin from a sunburn. It’s uncomfortable and leaves me a bit raw and vulnerable. My desire is to give full weight and respect to the situation here, to portray the complexity of it (though that also seems cliché). 

We are finally getting refreshing downpours of rain; our family is gathering around the table to play board games at night we have been able to keep some projects running; and we have assembled care packages and delivered them to many families. There is good. There are smiles and laughter. There is rhythm to our days. 

We also know that some of our favorite small businesses near our home have closed. We want to support them and tell them we miss them. Six out of 22 of our pastoral families now have the virus, and it is spreading in their congregations. A teacher at one of our schools is now sick. Many Nicaraguans are treating themselves at home with eucalyptus and hot steam. Every day there are new messages alerting us to more families affected. 

This too shall pass.
It’s okay. God’s got this!
There is nothing to do but wait. 

These all seem so flippant. They don’t sound like words spoken by a friend, close to your pain and suffering. 

God is with us. God hears our prayers. God moves us to make wise choices and also to generously provide for those in need around us. We have hope but know the situation here for so many is fragile. Speak into their lives with gentleness. Honor them with the care that they deserve.