On account of a tropical storm/depression, it didn't stopped raining in more than eleven days, like I actually haven't seen the sun. Everything is wet.  For our team it means no church or barrio visits and minimal dry clothing. However, for people living only a block away it means that their homes and all their possesions are soaked. Within Nicaragua, flooding, landslides and swollen rivers have wrecked havoc on people's lives. Last Friday and again on Sunday I was frustrated by not having anything that we could do and I prayed that I could do something useful.

 

     Then Bonnie, a missionary who lives at Nueva Vida comes into our room with an announcement. We have 50 yards of strong plastic sheeting that can be used to cover roofs. The boys had gone to Managua, if they hadn't, they might have been asked to go, but instead I was. Four girls put on our raincoats and, armed with plastic sheeting and twine, headed to an area of the barrios where many of the people who are faithful to Neuva Vida church live. It is a place where poverty definitely exists. We had no ladder, no training in fixing anything, no plan and minimal Spanish, but we were excited that we could bless someone by fixing their roof. 

 

     The scene was surreal. Water flowed like a river through backyards and trickled ceaselessly through the cracks in the homes of our brothers and sisters. Only minutes later a plan is commenced. A twelve year old boy from the church is on his own roof pulling up the plastic. We have created a system. It is an excellent display of teamwork and when we finish and see that the kitchen floor is already begining to dry we are glad, but God wasn't done. 

 

     There was still a lot of plastic and a lot of daylight. Another kid we met at VBS comes and grabs my hand and takes me to his home across the overflowing canal. His mother greets me and asks if we can fix her roof too. She welcomes me inside to survey what would be needed and she shows me her wet matress and tells me that her and her little boy freeze at night. Part of her wall has fallen in and in place of a wall lies a strew of cardboard and plastic bags. We couldn't fix her walls, at least not today, but in minutes we were mobilized again. We are literally knee deep in mud, dripping, shivering, hauling sticks and rocks and smiling. I found myself climbing up a barbed wire fence with a knife in my teeth and then crawling on a beam trying to lay out the plastic, all while the wind is battering sheets of rain onto us. We found a way to get the plastic up using an advanced shoe-on-the-end-of-a-rope-lasoe system. We climbed cement blocks, dodging farm animals and becoming muddy, although the dumping rain washed it off again and again. When we finished the lady who owned the house literally shouted with relief and we prayed and danced in excitement before we left. 

 

     But God wasn't done yet. We were able to patch two more homes and then were invited into one of them to warm up over a porriage-like drink. We were soaked, dirty, freezing and laughing because God multiplied the plastic, exceeded our expectations and gave us purpose on a rainy day.