A drought of any kind is hard. It’s exhausting, discouraging, and feels eternal. This past week has been quite the challenge for me. Before Monday even began, I was feeling completely overwhelmed with working in the classroom. The noise, the kids, the language barrier, the constant chaos… It all just seemed way too much. I felt like I was running on empty and had nothing left to give. Day after day dragged by and I only found myself becoming more frustrated. I was definitely in a mini drought.  

However, everything changed on Thursday around 10:40am. I was sitting in a classroom full of rowdy boys and an exasperated Anyelo. That day, LASM was doing their Mercy in Action program, an outreach for the elderly, and the other classroom staff members and helpers were needed for it. Naturally, the boys did their best to be the loudest and craziest they could possibly be. I was counting the minutes until I would finally be able to get out of the classroom and hear myself think again.

As Anyelo tried to get the boys to fill out a worksheet, it began to rain. I longingly looked outside wishing I could just go dance in the rain (something us United States girls are known for). To my surprise, Anyelo caught my eye and gestured for me to get out there. I grinned at him and took off immediately. Fat drops splashed down onto my hair and face. What a relief from the heat and the noise and all the people! I soaked up God’s blessing and turned back around. The boys were all crowded around the door of the classroom trying to decide whether or not I had lost my mind. “Come on!” I yelled as I waved them over. They laughed and shook their heads. Nearly all the Nicaraguans I’ve met seem to have an extremely intense dislike for rain, so this was definitely the response I was expecting. I laughed and gestured again anyway.

I have no idea what came over them, but suddenly all 15 or so boys lurched forward at once. They came streaming out of the classroom with huge smiles, turning their faces towards the sky and stretching out their arms. The wonder and joy was evident in each of their eyes. We began to spin and dance around, laughing, singing, and cheering. Soon the dancing turned into a game of tag which then quickly evolved into a mud sliding competition (one that I didn’t participate it).

Several minutes later, a row of sopping wet preteen boys lined the dining table bench. I couldn’t stop smiling. The image of them pouring out of the classroom and into the rain will forever be ingrained in my mind. It reminded me of why I was here and how much I loved them. God had brought an end to my drought with the very thing I thought was causing it.

Addie came out to join us a few minutes into our dance party! I’m pretty sure she won the game of tag.