Prayers, Cows and Cement

Airports & Prayers

Danya dropped me and my way too much stuff off at the doors of Kingston’s international airport on Tuesday morning. I had been praying that my extra luggage surcharges wouldn’t be humungous and wouldn’t you know it, the supervisor at Caribbean Airlines that morning was Guyanese. We struck up a conversation as I waited in line and by the time we were finished talking, I was checked in and didn’t have to pay a penny extra for my stuff. God is so creative in the way He answers prayer!

I had a last minute flight change and ended up landing briefly in Antigua with a 3 hr stop over in Barbados. On the last leg I sat next to Shane, a young Guyanese cyclist and Collette, who is moving to Guyana from Maine at 66 years old to do missionary work with her husband. Our conversation covered everything from Chinese food to Jesus and an opportunity to pray for Shane. I think I made my first friend in Guyana without even stepping into the country.

Driving Home

Immigration and customs were a breeze and Kim was waiting for me on the other end with open arms along with Orlando (our friend and airport driver) and his wife Gina. Orlando’s sharp driving skills got us around potholes and wandering cows in the lat night. However, no measure of quick reflexes could avoid traveling through the thick scent of the Demerara Rum Distillery. Demerara is also the name of the river we crossed on what is boastfully known as the world’s longest floating bridge. I could see the midnight waters of the Atlantic illuminated by distant Georgetown lights as we zoomed across the estuary.
The houses are colourful and built close together with Hindu temples, mosques and churches in between. I was surprised at how many Hindu temples there are, one about every km and a half, marked with different coloured flags representing the pantheon that Hindus worship. Seeing those shrines really struck me with a sadness that there are so many people who do not know that there is a God who knows them and loves them so tenderly and that He is someone they can know and that this truth is so freeing.
It took about an hour and a half to get home to Hyde Park, a sort of district of Parika (the town centre is about 2km down the road). I finally dropped into bed around 3am.

Wet Cement

They say there are 2 seasons in Guyana: wet and dry. This one’s definitely wet. I awoke to a rainshower pounding our zinc roof and later got drenched by the hours of downpour helping our workers shovel cement with Kim and Beeno (ywam staff). It’s for the foundation of our desperately needed staff housing.
I am thankful for my little room with a burgundy floor, peptobismol pink walls that don’t reach the teletubbie-blue ceiling. My windows look onto Monic’s shop/bar across the road and the side of our property on the right and I even have a double bed, which I have never had before.

Being in a new place stirs up feelings of homesickness and loneliness but it awakens in me a desperation to have Jesus be more than enough. He is here.

I can’t wait to tell you more and there is already so much more to say!
Thank you for your prayers!

Em