Tenemos Esperanza

The view from our bedroom of a typically beniano sunset last night. Welcome home.

Last Tuesday morning, it came to me again. It came to me, as it so often does, in a moment of tedium, as I was hoovering a patch of the carpet in Sam's bedroom, in preparation for leaving our rented flat just a few hours later. It came to me without warning, and without my realising it. And only a few minutes later did I realise I was once again whistling the melody of 'Tenemos Esperanza'. 

Since I learned this amazing modern hymn back in February in Guatemala, I very much doubt a day has gone by that this veritable earworm, with its incessant tango rhythm, hasn't passed my lips, so to speak (you can read more about the hymn's story and composition here). It is a hymn that reminds us of Christ's incarnation and all that entailed, and therefore as Christians, 'hoy tenemos esperanza' ('we have hope today'), even in the midst of dire circumstances such as those witnessed by its author, and many others in Latin America in recent decades. 

And as I turned off the hoover for a moment and thought for the first time in a months about what I was whistling, mere hours before we were to begin that long journey back to Bolivia and the place where all hope had previously seemed lost, the song took on greater significance. Yes, indeed: we all, as believers, have hope, a hope that can enable us to press on in all circumstances. And that truth is as valid for Amanda, Sam and me as a family, in the particular circumstances we face, as it is for the entire family of God worldwide. Nosotros tenemos esperanza!

It was at this point that I then remembered another hymn we had learned that wonderful week in Guatemala, a hymn that back then had found me in something of a 'valley' and had moved me to tears. Indeed, only the hardest of hearts could have remained unmoved as the song built to a momentous climax and a united people from many tribes and nations in that hall proclaimed,

You will restore the earth, and forever you will reign

and from the face of your people, you will wipe every tear.

To you be all glory, all honour and majesty,

Hope of the nations, our Prince of Peace.

Our hope is, indeed, in the Esperanza de los Pueblos, and all the greater for it. 

In all of this, our gracious God was simply trying to drive home a point previously made. In the previous few weeks, two separate parties, unknown to one another, had commended to us Romans 15:13, which says

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

"You are finally getting this, aren't you?" I could almost hear him whisper in my ear in that empty flat.

The six months in Scotland were merely the start of a long journey. A highly positive start, indeed, but burnout can take up to two years to recover from, and we are seeing that in action. In fact, in many ways -- many positive ways -- we will never quite shake the impact of this past year for the rest of our lives. Back in Bolivia, as we unpack our cases, re-establish old connections, and take steps back in to ministry, we find ourselves in a new crucible in which the Master Smelter can continue his refining work; all of it necessary, much of it very painful. 

But for the first time in a long, long time, we can declare these two precious words with confidence: Tenemos esperanza. And for that, we are excited and grateful.

Prayer Points

• Give thanks for a safe arrival in Trinidad on Saturday, at the end of a pretty exhausting few days! Our route was Edinburgh-Frankfurt-Sao Paulo with Lufthansa (with a separate onward flight to Santa Cruz), and our connection time in Frankfurt was already fairly tight. This was only exacerbated by our delay in leaving Edinburgh last Tuesday evening. We pretty much ran the length of the terminal at Frankfurt...only to arrive literally a couple of minutes after the doors had been closed! And mindful of the airport's late-night curfew, the airline were not for letting us on. This meant we couldn't fly till the same time (10pm) the next day, and we knew the airline would look after us during that time. However, a complication for us was that Sam, as a Bolivian, is only permitted up to twelve hours of transit time, and he is also required to stay in the airport. Mercifully, the transport police were sympathetic to us, and allowed us to stay overnight in the hotel Lufthansa had arranged for us. Having already booked a night in a hotel in Sao Paulo, we simply cancelled that reservation and were able to make the Thursday morning flight to Santa Cruz a few hours after arriving in Brazil. We stayed in Santa Cruz with friends while attending to one or two administrative matters, and set off on Saturday morning for the day-long drive back to Trinidad (our car had been in Santa Cruz since March).
• Give thanks for a really lovely day on Sunday, when we were able to spend a lot of time catching up with people here, thanks to a church lunch and a little birthday celebration for a friend in the evening.
• If we're honest, we're still a little exhausted after last week's exertions. Pray for energy as we re-establish ourselves here this week.
• Please pray particularly for Sam. As far as we can tell, the language adjustment hasn't been an issue, and he's enjoying his daycare. However, there has been a little naughtiness as he's clearly still working things out here again. Pray for patience for us both in dealing with this.
• Finally for now, pray for preparations for the Latin Link Bolivia retreat, which will be taking place next week back in Santa Cruz (mercifully we're flying!).

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig, Amanda & Sam