Witnessing another Miracle

Driving down the washed out path too narrow for a car, but just wide enough for the Mule, our talk was anxious chatter. Would both parents be home as scheduled? I had specifically prayed so. Yes, I was sure they would be. This would be important enough not to miss.

The kids, normally filthy...but not as much today, came running out to greet us. Jumping on the Mule and asking for a ride as normal before we could jump off ourselves. Julio, carrying a cardboard box of simple necessities for the family descended carefully. We entered with permission greeted by their normal smiley faces. First their mom, and then from behind an inner door appeared their dad. Yes, they were both there. Praise. He answered part of my prayers so far.

Dulce, Kate and baby Michele

We all sat down in their one room house, cleaner and neater than I’d ever seen it. The dad joked at how he was starting to think we weren’t going to show. And Julio quickly explained that we were just talking about whether they would both be there. My anxiousness began to dissipate.  

I watched this man, whom I’ve always been told is good-for-nothing, smile from across the room. It’s hard to despise a smiling face. This is the man we’ve been praying for. In my mind, I’ve conceived him to be a wretched villain like in the movies. But he didn’t resemble one at all. 

Our conversation began with small chit-chat. Most of the family has a cough and the mom and eight-year-old have a fever. But the baby. She has somehow evaded it…so far. She lay in the corner in the large bed. Her mama knows me well. She picks her up, still sleeping, and brings her to me. She’s growing, in-spite of the disease she will likely live with ’til she dies. Julio wants to hold her as well. He loves babies too. She is awake by now. He makes her smile so big. Melts my heart. How happy she is, even in such an unhappy environment. She is passed off to her papa. She doesn’t take her eyes off Julio. Until, she sees her papa and hears his voice. I think she loves him. I wonder what goes through her four-month-old head. She doesn’t know the ugliness inside of this man who holds her. Her love is pure and unconditional.

Her mama sits in the corner, quiet and reserved. We send the kids out for quiet conversation. But, they of course don’t want to miss out on the gringo visitors. They flit in and out. Britt starts with a quick prayer. We talk about honesty and openness. It’s agreed. The always smiling Papa talks about wanting to change and leave the past behind. My skeptical mind tries to decide if he’s for real. We’ve been told he’s a player. Britt talks about the only way to make it right is with God. He knows. 

We ask to hear their story...how they met. Can you tell of how you met your love, without smiles and laughter? I think not. The memories were fond ones. But things happened. Life is full of regrets. Choices were made. And life became hellish. She sticks with him unlike most women whose husbands cheat. But it was for her kids back then. She loves her kids. He speaks of change and  making things right. Of mending a family broken by ugliness and sin. There is hope. I hear it in his laughter. She is more resistant, hurting and not knowing whether or not to fall for that line again. She’s heard it before. Maybe it’s for real this time. Her misery runs deep. How deep, we don’t ask. God can only heal her pain. 

We are just there to show our love and point them to the only Healer of the broken and hurting. Our presence was enough. It meant we cared. Caring people are scarce, he says. 

We will go back. It’s a friendship now. We’ve shared a part of our lives together. Trust is forming. God is performing another miracle. And once again, we get to be a part of it.