My heart was overwhelmed with awe, as I opened my eyes and caught a glimpse of the majestic mountains. The sky foggy with a light mist coming down upon the tropical foliage that immersed the outside gardens was sweetness to my soul. The sound of a horse clambering, birds singing, and insects making a distinct noise was the first sounds that filled my heart. I was finally in Ecuador. I had been planning, preparing and praying for this time for months, and now it had finally arrived.
After a breakfast of eggs, coffee, and fresh juice from tree tomatoes as they call it, we were off. The area we had come to was filled with pure indigenous people. Our team had traveled thousands of miles to tell them the greatest story of hope, and the only Hope anyone could have. Buses piled, we headed to a local school. As we departed from the vehicle I began to notice all of the dark skinned, dark hair, and big beautiful eyes that surrounded me. These children had chubby cheeks and inviting smiles, immediately my heart melted. After exchanging some greetings and light conversation through my broken Spanish, I opted for the international language- a big smile and a hug. The team soon set up and the school children swarmed the benches to watch the curiously different white people. Our students from America performed many different dramas, songs, magic tricks and other programs, but the best part was yet to come. In the quietness of my heart I began to lift up a prayer to the only God, the God who hears and has my heart. Praying for the souls of these precious children, that they would come to know Jesus Christ as their Savior. A message was spoke and an opportunity was given for the children to respond and hear more of what these foreign people had come to share. Our team split up and children poured out of the benches, like spilled milk running anxiously to circle around our teens.
As I scanned the horizon I saw several groups with at least one of our students, a translator, and many children huddled around, zoomed in to the greatest story every told. Their hearts were open, receptive and hungry to hear of the one true God who sent His sinless son to die in our place, so that we may have eternal life in Him. I was amazed at the child like faith and how even the simplest things, like the gospel, adults seem to overanalyze where children have such a true, genuine and simple faith. My heart swelled, as I once again was reminder of My Savior who made the wondrous mountains in the distances and who made each and every heart there. He is the Creator of the Universe, yet such a personal Savior. That was the beginning of the first of many days where my life was lifted, swelled and humbled with the goodness of a story that happened thousand of years ago that still has the only hope and only salvation anyone could have.
