ch-ch-changes

No one would argue: Change is hard. Uncomfortable. Confusing. Messy.

There have been big changes in our corner of Jinotega in the last couple of years. The first time I visited the mission, it sat across from a busy, crowded bus station. Behind that were rows of plank shacks with open sewers and dirt floors which served as the city's market.

bus station as seen from mission window

By the time we moved here, the new rebuilt market had opened complete with electricity, cinder-block buildings, concrete paths, and higher rent. This higher rent drove many vendors onto sidewalks, or any other wide spot in the road. These salesman and their families came to be a daily part of mission life.

street in front of the mission

view from the front door--August

 As the last group of the summer was pulling away last year, workmen begin arriving on the street in front of the mission pulling up the hexagonal paving stones  and stacking them in four foot high walls blocking the road in what could only mean long hoped for road repairs. With the street now impassable, the bus station and it's associated hawkers and air horns--a very prominent feature of mission life, particularly at 5 a.m.--moved to the next block. City officials held meetings in the street explaining that the makeshift stalls would have to go. The frenzied movement and riot of colorful baskets was slowly exchanged for permanent store fronts.

view from the front door--October

view from front door--December

view from front door today

It wasn't long before the workmen faded away. Or so it seemed to me. Months passed without much activity. Periodically a grader might come scrape things down. Or guys with shovels would arrive spreading loads of dirt, sand, or rocks onto the road bed only to disappear again for several months. As an observer it seemed that all the progress they made was being washed away in the rain.

Two things were happening through all those long months. The road was being worked on. The subsequent traffic was slowly packing that rock and sand down bit by bit and the road bed was steadily rising to meet that foot high curb. Every motorcycle, horse-cart, and truck was part of leveling and packing the spots that would need it most.

Secondly, I was learning to hunger for change. To appreciate what was gone and anticipate what was coming. Each time workmen arrived, crowds would gather and we'd all chatter excitedly: "Do you think they'll pave it?" "Will the buses come back?" We bemoaned the dust and blessed the silence. Some days we lamented the silence and reminisced about how exciting it was when the street was busy and full.

I can't help but see a parallel to times God has pulled the paving stones of my life up. Sometimes exciting, sometimes scary--always messy, confusing and uncomfortable.

^{Philippians 1:6} being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

I don't how long God's reconstruction projects in my life will take. I don't know what they will look like when He is finished. But I am learning to hunger for change. He knows what He is doing--and one glorious day He will complete all the work that leaves me so messy and uncomfortable.

Today I am reminded of that hope.
Today they paved the street.