Our church meets the first and third Sunday of every month under a huge tree. There’s about 40 people in total, a healthy mix of Gringos and Nicas, recovering addicts and families, men and women, adults and children. The musical worship is pretty lively, involving a lot of offbeat clapping and shouting by our worship leader, Osiris. Today, we even had a little rap session during the last song.

Today, it felt like I was part of the community instead of just a visitor. This is happening a lot more lately. Life here is turning into our normal. It’s normal to have clothes stiff from the clothesline. It’s normal to drink grama out of a plastic bag. It’s normal to leave leftovers on our porch step for the dogs. It’s normal to walk most places. It’s normal to buy our vegetables and fruit in the market. It’s normal to have roommates.

I’m happy for normal. I’m happy not to feel overwhelmed, and to feel like God has given us direction here. We’re starting to develop classes and curriculum for small groups, and implementing everything we’ve learned at Brookhills. I can feel Christ changing us, and it is good.