POST by LIZ: Insignificant

It’s been a zany week – Jed was robbed by a gang of youths while he was filling up at the petrol station in the early hours of the morn – hardly ever do we have huge amounts of cash, so it wasn’t like they hit the jackpot or anything; he ain’t no granpa driver either, so he floored it home and made the necessary calls to the powers that be – thank God, our accounts were untouched. 

But this petty robbery has affected us greatly.  No access to banks means that we have been unable to purchase food for the week etc. Naturally, this is also the week that our much needed rear-end tire decided to split in two!!  AYE CAREYE!  For the record: this is the 7^th popped tire we have incurred over the last 3 months!  (Note to self: send prayers up feverishly requesting that oh-so desired four wheel drive with tough state-of-the-art tires!)

And YES! We have been told by many different people, on many a various occasion, that we Brien’s seem to have the worst luck in the world!

But I am going off on a tangent - so I will make no haste in disclosing to you my main reason for shedding this insightful piece of info: Without a car with wheels, I am forced to do my traveling using public transport.

Now hear me out - I have nothing against public transport or anything, but honestly it’s hard to stay cool, calm and sane when one is squished up against other hot, sweaty beings, where every area of your body is cruelly meshed with another’s - like we are all just pieces of playdough that mold together and form some terrible ghastly sculpture entitled ‘Sick Joke’.

Elizabeth in Wisconsin - Where is she? Who knows...

I confess that I found it particularly difficult trying to function as a civilized human being today, I was faced with a tough decision as to which passenger I’d be better off to face: the sweltering, perspiring, lass whose armpit was so close to me that every time I dared take a breath, the hair from her armpit would tickle the insides of my nostrils, or the elephant wrinkled faced fellow with sandpaper stubble and a wry grin sporting two crooked, yellow tarnished, gappy teeth and a breath which smelt like a cocktail of pig-dung, cigars and rotten eggs and kept calling me his ‘amor’.

But the swerving, swaying, bipolar bus deprived me from drawing a solid conclusion; engulfing me with these oddly characters and throwing several more my way to-boot.

As my limbs slowly started to numb, my eyes remained active - drinking in the status quo.  As the bursting bus swallowed and spewed, swallowed and spewed, I looked at the conductor and the driver – we were nothing to them, just another body to cram into the overly full space, we were not even a number – what was the point in counting!  

I started to picture the lads whom we have taken in under our wing.  They have lived their whole life like this.  Feeling as if they are more of an inconvenience to their families, their friends, their society – feeling insignificant.

Yordy is one that struggles with feeling insignificant – that it wouldn’t matter if he lived or died - as a result he causes a lot of pain to himself and to us who love him.

Eliezer is another who believes this lie – that he is a nobody – so he thinks his actions and words affect no one – when reality is, his daily decisions are huge waves that wipe us out.  

My own precious daughter, Lorenzy, has ridden the roller coaster ride of ‘feeling insignificant’ – convincing herself that she doesn’t matter.

And if I’m ready to be honest with self – I constantly push away the thoughts that what I say and do are some feeble efforts that seem like one tear drop in a vast ocean - my feeling of insignificance talks me out of being someone who God wants to use to be rather momentous spiritually!

I am seeing that feeling insignificant is dangerous ground!    

A person who feels insignificant will not think their actions nor words, make any difference.  They will live a life that breeds destruction and death and remain unaware of the mammoth impact of their very being. 

Insignificances is an ugly virus that the devil spews onto us as he knows the spiraling death it can bring about. Believing the lie stops us short of living a fulfilling life.

Someone who feels insignificant is actually incredibly significant! They are just deaf to the blazing negative impact their actions of insignificant cause.

I am realising that my actions and words, as a result of trusting my feeling of insignificance, have greatly wounded and scarred many people but yet, when I know and live out a life that reflects who I am in Christ, the enemy’s plans are thwarted and the lies he feeds me are seen for what they are - nothing.  

POST by LIZ: The LOVE Shack!

Elizabeth with some of her boys

As I fumbled my way through my purse hunting for the $20 Radio Shack discount receipt, the cashier asked me typical questions we get when entering places with a mass of Nicaraguan lads in tow.

I explained why we were in the States and why we live in Nicaragua. 

“Wow!” he gasped, after my spill, and at that moment he ceased just being the professional Radio Shack cashier across the counter from me, and revealed his humanitarian heart.  “I really want to do something like that too – I want to make a difference – wow, I bet that must make you feel really good…” and he continued to lavish praise and admiration for the work that we do. 

His eyes were gentle and genuine, but the rest of his words were wasted on me.  I couldn’t get past his phrase ‘I bet that must make you feel really good…’ His words whirled around my head, I couldn’t shake them.

“Make me feel good!” if only he knew how it made me feel.  I wanted to tell him how it really made me feel.  The recent events flashed through my mind like a B rated horror movie from the sixties.

Situations flashing through my mind recalling all the rejecting statements, compulsive lies, and bad attitudes which had been thrown into our path, like ugly weeds growing in a rose bed.

Now to be fair, this particular day had been especially tough; I had started out the day dealing with tired teenagers wanting to get their own way - which of course clashed with my own agenda for them, and I was having a particularly tough season dealing with Yordy, who was slipping away into depression, Rene, who wanted to act like a porn star, and Beycker, who thought he was every girls’ dream come true. 

I wanted to scream out and release the pent up feelings I had harboured and allow those who had taken out their own hurts and rejections on me, to see that I was just human too. I wanted to pour out my bottled-up hurt from constantly being rejected, unloved and unappreciated. 

My captured feelings shocked me.  I didn’t realise that I held on to so much hurt.  Over the years, I had helped many people unlock their trapped hurts and had explained that hurt left untouched would morph into binding bitterness – yet here I was, standing on a polished floor with a beaming cashier believing in what we do, and seeing the mountain of bitterness I had allowed to build within.

Never-the-less, I snapped back into my reality, smiled at the kindhearted cashier man, and said, “Yep, it’s rewarding, but it sure is a rollercoaster ride at times,” 

We left the shop with shouts of well-wishing from all the staff, including the district manager, who was visiting the store and had also taken interest in our life.  The lads were high spirited, and left the shop in normal style; double twists and flips. Everyone whooping and cheering and laughing and totally unaware of the mountain I carried inside.

Later that night I checked my heart before the Lord.  “God, I didn’t realise I was so hurt and I can feel bitterness consuming me.  I want to ‘feel good about what I do’, but right now I just feel that no matter how much I pour myself out, I receive a stack load of rejection, fear and failure thrown in my face.”

“You know what your problem is, Liz?” God shot back at me. “You are doing things out of your own love for people.  Even Jesus didn’t do this!  You think Jesus died for you because he loves you – but this is not true!”

“WHAT?” I thought… “that goes against EVERYTHING I was raised with. ” 

“Well, read the scripture Liz, it doesn’t say, ‘for Jesus loved the world so much he gave his life,’ No! It says, ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only son..’ you see Liz, Jesus died for you out of love and obedience for me! But YES, Jesus does love you – because of my love for you! And this is the way you need to operate too.  If you do things out of your own love for others then you will either only love those that are lovely, but Matthew says... where is the reward in that?! But if you love the unlovely out of your own love, then you will get burnt out, rejected, unloved, and unappreciated. 

Because those who are rejected will reject, those who are unloved will be unlovely, and those who don’t feel appreciated will be ungrateful.   But, if you do it only out of love and obedience for me, then you won’t even look for praise or acceptance from others.  If you do things out of love for me, then it doesn’t matter what the reaction is from the person, because you will only look to me to say ‘Well done good and faithful servant!  Then you will truly be living for an audience of one!  The best part is that your love for others will actually increase – Jesus does love you and did die for you because he sees you through my eyes.  This is how I want you to approach your ‘work’ for me. ”

So, I can’t say that I am fully there yet, but I can say that when I receive the rejecting words and actions, especially the ones so typical from teenagers, they don’t stab my heart like before, because I’m now doing things out of love and obedience for God.

If you would like to learn more about our ministry, please watch our latest update,CLICK HERE

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To learn more about our street theatre production, "CREATED", please visit our page,NICAVANGELISTS: "CREATED", North American Tour (2013)

If you would like to see a video of some of our Nica-Youths practicing, please CLICK HERE

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POST by FRAN: Brave New Girl!

Lorenzy, Grandad, Francesca, in Rochester, NY

Traveling is a lot of fun, but it can also be really scary, especially when you’re flying with just your 13 year old sister, by yourself. First time being in charge of passports, first time going through security by myself, with my passport in my bag instead of it being in Dad’s bag along with everybody else’s passports.

Well my sister and I flew from Baltimore to Buffalo with Southwest Airlines a while ago, and that was probably the scariest thing I have ever done. As we lined up to cheek in our bags, Dad was scaring me more and more every second. He made me check in our bags and he made me do all the talking and he made me take charge!

My sister was acting calm and I was trying not to get confused. I guess I had to be the responsible one, so that meant I couldn’t freak out! Otherwise we both would have freaked out!

We went through security and I started to panic as I couldn’t see my little brother or Dad anymore… All that was going through my head was “Oh My Gosh!!!! I don’t know where to go!!! I need to PEEE!!!! CALM DOWN!!!!”

I calmed myself down and Lorenzy asked me “can we go to the bathroom? I think this is the wrong way any way.” We went to the bathroom and I went into one of the stalls… “Oh… where should I put the passports?!” I didn’t even put them in my bag… I told myself “there’s a bathroom on the plane!”

I waited for Lorenzy to come out and we went to find our gate, it was really close to the bathroom! We sat down and I turned on my computer and began to work on my last Bible study for Teen Ranch, in Canada, where I was headed to.

Then I began to get excited thinking about seeing my two little cousins and my aunt and uncle and my Granddad! It wouldn’t be long before I’d be working at the Ranch for a couple of weeks, either.

A loud voice came on over the airport’s PA system, saying that we were going to start boarding soon, so I turned off my computer and got the passports ready. When the line had gone down a little we got up and walked over to the aerobridge entrance. We smiled and got onto the plane without any problems.

We went to the back so we wouldn’t have to sit next to any weirdoes. We got seated and everything, and then we were ready.  The flight was very short and we got there in no time… Southwest Airlines is my  favourite airline when efficiency and fun are high on my to-do-list!

we started to walk following signs to the baggage hall. We went through a smallish hallway and on the other side saw aunty Jamie and Granddad waiting for us! All my fears were gone when I saw them smiling and pointing to us, and waving at us!

We went to get our bags and then went to the car and drove to Rochester (New York), where we were going to be staying. We went to Aunty Jamie’s house and saw Tidgh and allegra, our adorable cousins.

Francesca with her adorable little cousin, Tadgh

We went out for dinner or lunch, not quite sure which one it was, but I know that the food was good! We had a load of fun and went to our good friends, the Seaburg’s. We would be staying at their house. I was only going to stay one night. Lorenzy is still there with them now, having a load of fun.

The next day I left for Canada with Granddad. I said my goodbyes to everyone and then hit the road… it took us 3 hours to get there, but we made it safely!

I just wanted to say Thank you to my Parents for letting me come here and for making this possible… I love you guys.

Fran, Mum (Elizabeth) and Renz in San Diego (A GORGEOUS city in Southern California)

Thank you Granddad for driving me here, it was a lot of fun spending time with you… I hope you made it back ok.

And thank you to the Stevens for adopting me as a new addition to your fun-loving family!

Lorenzy, Aunty Jaime & Francesca

To learn more about Franny, please visit our page, Our People 

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To learn more about the Australian Christian Churches, please CLICK HERE

To learn more about Capital on the Edge's home Church in Australia, please CLICK HERE

POST by LIZ: Walking in a Leaky Wonderland...

Jocasta with kids from Capital Edge Community Center

Blurry eyed, my head turned towards my bleeping alarm clock. I slammed my hand heavily on the snooze button and groaned - I knew it was time to get moving, but my body still demanded more winks after the flogging it had received the day before.

I shook off the desire to nap for a while and eased myself out of bed. It had been a heck of a day: full of heavy traffic jams, long, LONG queues, dashed hopes and slaughtered dreams all round. Yet, I couldn't help but release a random chuckle as the scenes from yesterday flashed through my mind.

We had returned from a big day out. I could, but I won’t turn each experience into a blog post of its own. Why I could take the time to explain all the "fun" we’d had dealing with Nicaraguan government officials, waiting in non-air conditioned offices at temperatures WAY above 96 degrees Fahrenheit, driving in Managuan madness, being told "NO, we can't process this or that unless...", having to deal with bratty teenage-boy attitudes, and being left slightly hoarse, after having had to yell all my conversations on account of the newly made hole that decided to appear in the muffler. But I won’t... ‘cause you get the picture. It was an action packed day!

So we returned only to find a large projection of water, due to a leaking pipe, the size of the fountain on Canberra's very own Lake Burley Griffin. Someone had taken the time to dig up and smash our buried water pipes.

And I know what you’re thinking… Didn’t they have this same problem just a few months earlier? The answer? Yes, we had this very same problem a few months earlier and consequently buried the pipes for protection. The icing on the cake with the overly red, delicious, plump cherry on top was that they had also entered the property and drained our two water tanks of precious H2O!

I had planned to have a relaxing night of quality time with Sez and Billy, my plans being swiftly overturned into a night of fighting back gushing water with a stick and then driving madly through Managua in search of an open hardware store.

Nestor and I were about to lose hope - the Sinsa store we were sure would be open was shut, and the workers were happy to be turning the key... "POR FAAAAA VORRRRRR" I pleaded... "I'll pay double, triple, cuadrupleeeeeeeeeee... just PLEASE let us get the materials we need..." But it was no good... they said that everything was shut and there was nothing they could do…

However, one of the greened shirt guys took pity on us, and explained there was another Sinsa opened until 9pm... "WHERE, WHERE???" but time was a ticking and I didn't have the time to listen to Nicaraguan directions of one block to the lake and then 3 to the south, past the broken glass bottle of coke and then a turn to the left... so I interrupted asking, "Do you wanna just hop in the car and show me? Pretty please?"

He nodded and jumped into my rust-bucket of a vehicle. I know, I know… stranger danger and all that... but I was DESPERATE!!!

We made it to the store and I offered to pay for his taxi home, but he said he'd stay and help me find what I needed. (FYI for any peeps living in Nicaragua: The Sinsa, near Rotonda Jesus Cristo, stays open ‘til 9pm every night)

And so into the store we did enter. He knew everyone and before I knew it, he had the whole store running around collecting the bits ‘n bobs we needed for "operation - there's a leak in the dam"

It was at that moment, as I was walking through Sinsa's plush aisles, that I suddenly heard the squeek squeek squeeking of my wet shoes, and it dawned on me that I was wearing white pants - WHITE pants!!! Argh! I was soaked through.. WHITE PANTS and WATER can make an embarrassing combo!

I scanned the aisles looking for the curtain and blinds section to go hide in - but then caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrors section (on sale might I add…) and was relieved to see that the crisp white pants I had started the day wearing, now totally drenched, were no longer the crisp white-as-snow pants from the morning.

Oh no, my pantalones had turned into the same awful, glorious colour of the muddy brown dirt from the banks of my barrio. Whilst I had fought with the gushing water utilising my trusty stick, alongside our faithful security guard, Nestor, my pants had been transformed from elegant ladies’ wear into crocodile fightin duds.

The Sinsa employee we had "picked up" had done a marvelous job collecting all the things required to resolve our leaking problem. I grabbed some pool products and asked if he could receive the commission on the whole sale. He smiled. I then offered him taxi money as a thank you and he refused to accept it...

WOW… I was impressed - it gave me hope again that there were "nice" people in the world... I wasn’t living in a land with only water pipe smashers after all.

I dropped my new friend off at a taxi/bus route and before he could shut the door, I shoved $5 into his hands and said "please take this" then before he could hand it back, I yelled out "thanks" put my foot on the gas and allowed the noisy muffler to kick in – Operation “patch up pipes” could now be achieved, thanks to this guy who took the time out to help us get the goods required for such a mission.

Waterpipe Crisis Resolved

If you would like to support our mission to Nicaragua, please CLICK HERE for more information...

POST by LIZ: Oooh, I could Crush a Grape!

Elizabeth & Rene in downtown San Francisco

It is an incredible privilege to be touring California with my beautiful family,  which of course consists of Jed, my four precious ones and the eight wonderful lads whom God has put into our lives.  Our days are never monotonous; observing our engorged family soak in this surreal experience and growing more in God, brings a sense of contentment in my spirit.

Each and every one of my “children” have their own unique quirks. Political Correctness (PC) demands parents to say they treat all family members the same, but I personally find this to be highly unachievable.  Personality has a huge role to play and tends to eschew PC with great force. Honestly, while I strive to treat all the same, my daily interactions and methods of discipline with them all vary, due to ‘Personality’. 

While I love them all, Rene tends to have a special place in my heart.  He is young (15), passionate, impetuous, and majorly self-absorbed (like the majority of 15 year olds!)  Over the year I have known him, he and I have come a long way and we have had major collisions throughout the journey (some involving knives and others involving fists).

To let you in on a secret - he almost didn’t make the tour due to his inflated attitude that totally clashed with mine! But he made it on the California tour by a hanging thread, and certainly brings  vibrancy to the group.  

When we were in Nicaragua, waiting to submit passports, the line was long, the day was hot, and it seemed like days were being sucked out of our lives.  After three hours of moving at a snail’s pace towards the building which  would provide the precious document, lunch was overdue and we were fading away... 

“I’ll just run and grab us all something to eat,” I said trying to slip away quietly, but they all wanted to come with me for the adventure. So, Stivey and Eric held our queue positions, while the rest of us went to find food.  “How about McDonalds?” Rene quickly suggested, but at $6 per person, this was way out of our lunch budget, which was $12.50 for our entire group. Like a mother hen with chicks in tow, we made our way to the grocery store. 

“No Liz” Rene whined, wiggling a can of red bull in my face while I grabbed a pack of plastic cups and a couple of 3 litre water bottles.   

I expertly dodged the two-cm-from-my-face, visual requests for cans, pks of chips, and chocolate, as I swooped in and grabbed a cooked chook and some freshly baked rolls.      

“Pleeeeease...” Rene requested, with pitiful eyes that seemed bigger and more innocent than Puss-in-Boots’, a basket of fruit.  “Not today, fruit is expensive and right now we don’t have the money for this,”  but that wasn’t enough... Beycker, Jonny and Rene started to steal and eat the grapes and caused a riot – I stopped them, told them how utterly embarrassed I was of their rude behaviour and explained that they would get NOTHING if this behaviour continued...  This seemed to verbally slap Beycker and Jonny back into civility but Rene was persistent. 

As we left the fruit’n’veg section, and made our way towards the check-out, via aisle four, I noticed Rene munching on grapes while hosting a bunch in his hand.

“Rene, I said No more, grapes are really expensive and when you eat them like this without paying for them it’s called stealing!...” but he cut in my words stating he was going to buy them.

Knowing full well his personal budget, I stressed once again that I was not okay about him stealing, and that I would not be buying the grapes for him or anyone today.  But he stressed that he was paying and promised not to eat another grape until after paying.

Putting the cups, water, chicken and bread on the moving belt, Jonny’s eyes moved side ways towards the snickers. He then grinned as my eyes narrowed and my face indicated “not on your life!”

As the checker started scanning, I noticed the now hot and sweaty, ‘we’ve-been-in-Rene’s-hands’ grapes next to the bag of rolls.  All the boys had seen this and were silently watching for my reaction. 

Fearing the last minute requests for craved items from the other boys if I allowed the grapes to pass, I picked up a divider and placed it between the rolls and the grapes. Rene grinned whilst asking, “Please Liz?”  He looked at me, the check out chick looked at me, the other lads’ eyes were darting from the grapes to Rene, to me.  But I ignored Rene’s pleading and pulled out the cash from my pocket, handing it to the cashier, “Just these items thanks.” I cooed.

We picked up the bags and stood in a line entertained by the thought of Rene’s next reaction.  Jonny and Beycker chuckled while Rene fumbled in his pocket for loose cordabas. 

“That will be 23 cords please,” the woman at the teller said after scanning the forbidden fruit.

”WHAT?” Rene retorted, “That’s a rip off- 23 cords for a just a handful of grapes!”  

Rene looked at his treasure, then requested for the guys to lend him C$13. None of them had a cord... “Liz, can you lend me C$13?”  But I just smiled and shook my head. 

The lads couldn’t control themselves and burst out laughing, as Rene had to put the grapes to the side and walk away from the till.  Rene looked at me, I looked at him and we both started laughing which made everyone laugh harder.   

POST by LIZ: Trick or Treat

With the end of October looming, something rather unusual is taking place in the shops here – we are seeing the malls decked with spider webs and jack-o-lanterns; the stores are stocking up on Halloween items. 

“Unusual?” I hear many question.  Perhaps not for the Western world, but for here – YES!  With the strong catholic foundation, many Nicaraguans view Halloween (as do many British Christians) as: E V I L… and as a country, have not promoted such a festival.

I remember being 12 years old, sitting at the top-of-the-stairs gazing out the window as ghosts, zombies, fairies and witches happily walked below in full swing of their “trick or treat-ing”. 

But their disguises did not fool me.  I identified many of these walking horrors as my humble class mates from school. 

Yet, for us Townsends, the 31^st October was lock-down night.  There were no candies to be given or received -  although, at times my brother would grab an egg or two, and practice his cricket pitch, from the top-stairs´ window, using the goodie-bag-holding-passers as unsuspecting ball targets.

I don´t ever recall feeling mad at my parents in their decision to forbid us to participate in these Halloween activities.  I wanted God in my life and good things, so it made sense not to celebrate an event that promoted themes of death, horror and spiritual darkness. 

I would wonder why anyone would want to celebrate a night that encourages many people to dress as evil and create evil towards others. (I would frown as my school friends´ bragged of how many “shit bombs” they'd left burning on front porches, or how many firecrackers they'd managed to shove through letter boxes of the vulnerable elderly (remember that British letter boxes go straight into the house), or how their fingers would hurt after tying so many crackers to cats´ tails).

The stories that buzzed around during October about children having their throats slit due to the placement of razor blades inside candies given out, were enough to convince me not to crave the sweets given.  And on the rare occasions that we did venture out on this celebrated night, was enough to scare me from ever wanting to roam the streets on the eve of all saints day. 

I remember one October 31^st walking briskly through the dark, dodging out-of-control fireworks that whizzed and banged in the streets and watching freaked-out cats run past (some unable to  free themselves of the tied fire crackers).  

So my parents' decision wasn´t such a big deal to me, although I can´t answer for my siblings.  We only had to wait several more days to get our sugar fix, as we would celebrate, with fireworks and candy, the famous Guy Fawkes Night (which coincidentally also celebrates death, without compassion for cats!).

As the years passed, my folks (as did many other Christians) started seeing Halloween as an opportunity to share the gospel with our community.  My parents hosted “Hallelujah Nights” using the local church as a vessel for connecting with the community: claiming back the night for wholesome activity, and providing a God focused dwelling as an alternative which put Jesus in the centre. 

These events were AWESOME!  My creative mother would organise her famous crazy – and often very messy – games, my dad would use his puppets to entertain the kids with gospel messages and there were bags and bags and bags of candy to be dished out.   But it was ALWAYS Hallelujah night and never Halloween!

So you can image the shock to my system when Jed and I moved to Mexico, only to be invited by our conservative Christian Missionary American friends to a Halloween party!   (They didn´t even try to disguise the name!)

Our American buddies (who are so adamant that drinking alcohol is a sin, which most of us European Christian´s think is utterly bizarre) saw no problem in celebrating this night I knew to be promoting evil.  I felt their nudges as they laughed at some Mexican protesters positioned at the traffic lights bashing Halloween! 

But I was torn.

My upbringing had me siding with the Mexicans, who were now madly waving their banners which proclaimed Halloween as being evil and not good, at our passing bus. Yet my two years in the US opened my eyes to how my Puritan-founded friends viewed the night: as a fun family night to get together, get creative with cute costumes, and a chance to try new pumpkin recipes.  YES! Of course there is spider web and carved pumpkin décor, but this is all viewed as a bit of fun!  While some embrace the horror themes associated with Halloween, others do not.      

As the bus passed, my US expat friends started talking about how strange it was that the Latino Christians would firmly reject Halloween and be protesting against their party plans, yet have no problem celebrating the Day of the Dead.

Curious to know more, I asked what that event was. I found out that in Latin America, families gather together in grave yards and take food (mostly a special type of bread) to honor their loved ones who have since departed from this world.

I thought this day to be rather family promoting and sentimental, but one of the Halloween party organisers expressed how spiritually dark this celebration can be, how it promotes death and encourages communication with dead people. (I quietly struggled with her arguments of why it was okay for people to celebrate Halloween, yet not okay for people to celebrate the Day of the Dead).

It was before Mexico and during our time living in the States, that Jed and I were forced to discuss the issue of Halloween. It´s strange to think we had been married four years before we conversed regarding the topic. Although Halloween events do exist in Australia, it´s not really a big deal like it is in the UK or US.

We had never had a knock at the door with the phrase “Trick or Treat?” that followed, and we had never celebrated October 31^st as a “Halloween” or “Hallelujah” night.  So we really had no reason to ever discuss Halloween before we lived in the US.  

Returning to my NY home, after plowing through the aisles and aisles of Halloween merchandise in Walmart, I was shocked to find my husband madly throwing candy to the neighbourhood kids shouting out “Happy Halloween”. 

While I whispered (I didn´t want to offend my American neighbours) my verbal attacks at him for participating in evil works, he continued to throw the hard lollies to passing bunnies, spidermen and fairies.  It was at this point that we talked about cultural differences with regards to this celebrated day. I had two options: one - to hold to my cultural and spiritual beliefs and upbringing and put a stop to the human piñata, or two – to put my own beliefs aside and join in on the fun.  

“Oh, What the heck,” I thought and joined in with dishing out the candy and hoped my parents would never hear of what I had done! 

Here, the majority of Christian Nicaraguans share the same view as the majority of the Christian Mexicans do with regards to Halloween. Many US Americans take furlough opportunities to horde back Halloween decorations etc as they know too well that obtaining these items here can be a task and a half. 

In the two years we have lived here, I have seen a difference in the items available in the shops that satisfy Westerner demands.  The stores are catching on that there is a “hot-market” they can tap into.  Suppliers are realising that this flush “market” is not solely seeking out ´Halloween´ goodies, and are slowly increasing the supply of items we Westerners believe should be readily available.  

Many of the Christian Nicaraguans view pagan festivities as just that: Pagan. They reject Halloween and any symbols related to Halloween, they believe that drinking is a sin, they freak out when foreigners give “bunny-ears” to someone else while taking a photo, they disapprove strongly of symbols such as the “ban the bomb” or the “ying and yang”.  They believe the Christmas tree is evil (and use scripture to promote their beliefs), and tend to disapprove of Christmas decorations in general.   (Although, ironically you can´t drive around Managua and miss the gaudy Christmas trees that are displayed on almost every rotunda! – because, naturally, having socialist President, Daniel Orgeta, means it IS Christmas all year round!).

To date: I have visited 27 countries and I have lived in five of them, so Halloween is not the only topic I´ve had to wrestle with my once-set-rules-and-norms. I cherish Jonathan Swift´s satire, Gulliver´s Travels, which targets mindsets and deep cultural beliefs.  It exposes how strong culture and tradition are to a group of humans and the effects they have on an individual.  It causes readers to ponder their world, logic and belief system.  It attacks the imperialist mindset and encourages people to view differences as “different” and not “wrong” merely because it doesn´t match up to one's own beliefs.  

I´m not really sure what culture I fit into these days!  I´m still very British in many of my ways, yet the Australian, North and Central American living experiences and my travels to four of the world´s continents, have also had an impact on my life.  I have embraced many of the Australian, North American, Central American, European, and Asian norms as my own. Yet, for some reason, I still struggle with cultural differences. 

I have noticed how often cultural traditions and norms deeply impact spiritual mindsets and my daily prayer springs off of a Romans´ scripture:

“Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, THEN you will be able to test and approve what God´s will is – his good, pleasing and perfect will.” 

Blog by LIZ: Stuck on YOU

I'm typing this blog 36,000 feet in the air. During the months of July and August, we Brien's are gallivanting around parts of the USA to raise awareness of the situation within in Nicaragua; sharing with others about what we are doing in our small corner of the world and believing for others to join us in making an incredible difference. 

Honestly, travelling around the States is a writers delight. I have ample amount of material to write about.  Emotions diversify; ranging from sheer and utter bliss; "God is good all the time"; utopia view, to complete and utter disgrace; red faced; put my ruby red slippers on, click as hard and fast as I possibly can and get me the heck out of here, type of deal - especially - ESPECIALLY when it involves Sezni deciding to respond to the firing questions of an "I'm-a-very-important-USA-immigration officer" by tagging the phrase "Butt Head" at the end of every sentence! 

Or when our darling "I-wanna-be-a-comedian", Rafael, spontaneously decides to be a part of our heart-felt presentation, taking his cue from our growing-family photo, displayed on the big screen, he asks, "Who's Billy?".

Or when those naive, yet awkward and discomforting, language differences we Brit/Aussies tend to have with gringos. The "WHAT???? - that word means this in the states!" moments. (Apparently, the word "TRICKING" in the states does not refer to the gymnastics sport our boys know and love. It is a synonym which describes the act of a prostitute! Hopefully the hundreds who have already heard us use the phrase; "we teach Tricking to the children" are internationally word savvy and are not confused about our line-of-work) - but it certainly explains why the donations were not as forthcoming!

Portion sizes in the states is another culture shock for us Briens. I will be carrying excess luggage back to Nicaragua with me that sadly can't be checked in!

I'll also be taking back so much more than extra kilos. It is awe-strikingly amazing to see how God unpredictably stirs the hearts of his people and arranges particular circumstances and events.  My faith is forging ahead as I understand the reality that God intends to join others with what he is doing through us in Nicaragua.  God could instantly provide us with the resources required to sustain our work in Nicaland, independently of others. However, He wants others to be involved in order for His glory to be known throughout the world.  I see how God purposely used events in my life to get me to the thought place I am in today.

I remember buying our first home in Australia. I felt like a host on the show "changing rooms" as I browsed through sample boards, picking out carpet, curtains and floor boards for our new-to-us abode.

Breathing in a warm feeling of satisfaction, I signed the form stating my approval of the newly laid polished floor boards.  I locked the front door and dreamily thought of my new-fangled home. What others would class as a humble home appeared as a palace to me, and I was excited to take this new step with Jed.

The next day, we jammed boxes of stuff into our grey Nimbus and sang all the way to our new haven.  We unlocked the door and walked inside. To our horror, we stared at our newly laid floor boards which bore raw scars revealing that they were prime witnesses to why the kitchen window was smashed.  Three rocks lay scattered on the floor yet their activity was obvious.  They had cut up the virgin boards like a jet-ski does to water when in full throttle.

We quickly realised we weren't in Kansas anymore; reality kicked in. We were living in an area Floyd McClung titled "The devil's doorstop".  Our neighbourhood hosted a miniature commune of drug-lords and prostitutes and these rocks were their house-warming gift to us.

We found ourselves neighbours to those in incredible need. Thankfully we had extraordinary life group leaders, the Manry's, who supported and encouraged us. 

During one meeting, I was feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. There was so much I wanted to do for my community yet I lacked so much.  Margaret, who is spiritually as sharp as an eagle spotting it's prey, came alongside me.  She knew exactly what was burdening my heart.

She spoke boldly: "Liz, you need to understand that God isn't going to allow you to do this alone.  God could provide you with everything you need without involving a single person. However, this is not His will.  He wants others involved.  You and Jed see the need and God places you guys in situations where you first-handedly experience what the oppressed and the broken hearted go through.  People don't always see the need and we require you guys to link us with it.  You see, you guys are God's GLUE.  He uses you to connect others who have, to those who need.  Don't be selfishly independent - continue to share the stories, as this will prompt others to help in the way they can. I wouldn't go knocking on their doors and give clothes, but I can easily give you a box to give to them.  Liz, be the glue God designed you to be."

WOW, her words pieced through my pride and I felt my spiritually hunched shoulders straighten with every word she spoke.

I know not everyone is called to live in Nicaragua, yet I know that we are all called to live a life that testifies the name of Jesus.  We are all encouraged to look after the poor and the needy. For us Briens this is a daily reality, yet not everyone experiences this type of living. 

God has enlarged our hearts for the people in our barro; they live below the poverty line, they struggle on a daily basis to provide food and shelter for their loved ones, they work hard for little in return, they face dangers of the worst kind, they lack resources, they lack opportunity, they need Jesus.

I now know that it is selfish of me to ask God to, independently of others, to provide me with the resources required to care for my neighbours. 

When God uses our lifestyle to prompt others to get on board with what He is doing in Nicaragua, it only creates greater glory to God.  It moves from a simple yet selfish "pat-on-the-back Jed and Liz" to a bonding of the church and a Christ-like unity.  It produces righteous living. It moves the mindset away from the useless thought that "Jed and Liz care", to the reality that God cares and prompts His Church to spring into action.    

The testimonies are life-changing. It's not just our poverty stricken community who are spun-around as we share the authenticity of why we are able to make an incredible difference.       

Stories of Rachel, a 16 year-old Aussie girl, who selflessly requested for her birthday she would rather raise money to help our community in Nicaragua, who she doesn't know, than receive birthday presents, blows not just their minds, but ours as well.  She raised over $1,400 and serves as God's glue as she links others with the need in Nicaragua!

Or when strangers (who we now call friends) randomly provide a box of shoes that fit the shoeless children in our school.  

Or when Mandy, a single mother in the UK, is prompted to give her precious savings so that another single mother who she has never met can feed her children, is just priceless!

Or when Vaughan, a father, who lost his beloved son, decides to give another person's son a chance to be educated, is beyond words. 

God's plan is never for us to do things solo.  If I had all the resources and did my thing independently, the glory would merely stay with me, but when we are the glue, the focus is on the big picture.  God yearns for his people to join together for the sake of his glory to shine through, not just to a few, but to the multiples in order for His kingdom to come and His will to be done!

Matthew 25:34-46

Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.35^h For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me,36naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’37Then the righteous^* will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?38When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?39When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’40ⁱ And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’41^{* j} Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.42^k For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,43a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’44^* Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’45He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’46^l And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”’