The Conversation

You really get to know a person well when you drive around with him every day, all week long. But when I first met Arnaldo, we didn't talk very much at all. I wasn't very confident speaking Spanish yet, and he was naturally on the quiet side.

Arnaldo was first assigned as my husband's driver when he spent a few days in Tegucigalpa, Honduras while he was interviewing for a job. When my husband was eventually elected, and we moved overseas, Arnaldo was assigned to me, and a different driver (see previous post, 'The Bodyguard') was assigned to my husband. Looking back, I think that God specifically chose this gentle, humble man for this particular job for a specific moment in time that was waiting for us five years in the future.

But first, there was a lot to do. I had to figure out my role as the wife of a diplomat, living overseas in a strange country, with no friends, struggling with a language I could barely speak. I remember sitting in my den, asking God to show me what I should do. What a concept! I hardly ever do that. My first instinct is just to go ahead and do whatever I feel like doing and figure God will somehow just show up and bless it. Or not. But, looking back, I suppose I was at the point where there wasn't much of an option. So I asked. And then I took baby steps.

And so it happened that, among all the other good causes I became involved in, one undertaking became my passion and joy. And it came about by talking to the person who was closest in proximity to me, the one arm's length away. The driver. How are you? (I could say that.) Are you married? (Yes.) How old are your children? Baby steps. Conversational Spanish 101. 

Venturing out a bit further, I discovered that my driver was a pastor, a Christian.  He pastored a small church in his neighborhood, Las Palmas. Baby step by baby step, I learned about the church, neighborhood, and the families who lived there. We did a Christmas outreach there on the first Christmas and purchased 200 toys for the children--about twice that many kids and their families showed up! 

And then, over time, I asked him another question that my sister-in-law and I had been thinking about. "What would your church be able to do for your community, if you could do one thing? What is most needed?" (Just thinking about how the subjunctive probably came out in Spanish makes me cringe!) 

It turned out that what they most needed was a childcare center for the children of single moms who often worked late and whose children ended up at Arnaldo and his wife's front door. Or sometimes they were locked into their homes and fed through the bars on the windows by neighbors. Or they were 'taken care of' by their older brothers or sisters of elementary school age. Or they just wandered the neighborhood, alone. Or they were put into service by the local gangs. It broke my heart, as I knew it did his.

And so, what began as a conversation, became a small reality: Fundación Casa de Luz (House of Light Foundation), was born. We are partnering with Old Cutler Presbyterian Church and a non-profit organization here in the States (the result of another conversation) called Institute for Community, which shares our same vision of effecting change in the community through connecting with people and meeting their needs. Three American missionaries and several women from the local church have joined us, and we learned how to create a board of directors . . . More conversations. Now the happy chattering of children has been added to the conversation.

Fast forward five years to another conversation in that same car . . .The conversation most meaningful to me, the one that I most needed in my darkest hour, the one I never saw coming, was a conversation without words. The very moment I knew my husband had been the victim of a plane crash, a hand reached out to the back seat. I grabbed it and held on for dear life. This conversation needed no words, no translation, no subjunctive verb tenses gone awry . . . My driver had become my pastor.

God, Who I sadly seldom take into account, had been a silent partner to those leisurely chats all along. He was, in fact, the 'third party to our conversation' that day as well. He knew years before why this particular person needed to be with me that day. Incredibly, without condemnation for neglecting Him in the past, He descended into that car and, in spite of all the chaos, brought with Him a tremendous peace--a supernatural peace that 'passes all understanding'. It was the 'right word at the right time.'

A new conversation had begun--with a God who, unbelievably, surprisingly, amazingly, cares for the intimate details in our lives. Who knew? 

I'm sure I promised never to neglect Him ever again after that day, and I'm equally sure that I've already broken that promise. But it is my heart's desire to get to know Him better as I converse with Him day by day. Baby steps. 

You never know where that conversation will lead somewhere down the road.

(And thankfully, I won't be needing that damn Spanish subjunctive!)

"...Those long hours of leisure as we walked arm in arm, God a third party to our conversation." 

Psalm 55: 12 (The Message)

"Congenial conversation—what a pleasure! The right word at the right time—beautiful!" 

Proverbs 15:23 (The Message)

Visit Casa de Luz on Facebook: Fundación Casa de Luz

Or, at Institute for Community's webpage:

http://instituteforcommunity.webs.com/casadeluz.htm