"What are you doing in Panama?"

 "What are you doing in Panama?"

I'm not good with updates,
and have a habit of first turning thoughts into 'poetry' instead of accessible prose.
Anyway, I will try.

During my time here, I've been working with the following 'ministries', a.k.a. regularly scheduled activities whose main aim is to 'bless' the people present.

(the ones that have been marked by crazy God moments/intense revelations about life at large have been marked with a +)

(the ones that have broadened my perspective on life, and on my abilities, have been marked with a %)

Busking Worship songs in Casco Viejo (tourist area and red light district in Panama City)%

Orphanage/ Girls' Home%+

Men's Prison%+

Distribution of sundries to the less fortunate at the Mosque%

Distribution of sundries in the slums%+

Church and Sunday School ministry+

Women's shelter%

Time spent with God at the base+

My little black notebook is awash with black-ink Cara-centric 'wisdom' and cursive quips to help me along on days I need encouragement from the Cara that kicks it with orphans and prisoners, instead of the Cara that (fill in the blank, creative reader.) It's almost comical to read the entries of the Cara of four months ago. (Almost).

Now I'm going to explain a little further on what a crazy God experience, aka a 'holy moment/revelation', is like for me. (yes i'm back to first person.)

Last Sunday a single mother gave a sharing at Church on what life was like before she believed in God.
And when I say God, I mean Jesus Christ God.

The father of her children had left her with three children and monthly rent to take care of. She was alone, betrayed, hurt, and with very real problems and three actual humans to feed. To love. She said that she couldn't. Until she found refuge at a women's shelter started up by a woman at the church that dedicated her time to running the shelter full-time. She now works there and said, with conviction, that God saved her life. She has never been more at peace than she has with God presently.

This story, needless to say, touched me and the audience alike. After the sharing, our mission team was called to the front to pray for anybody that should request it. I shuffled to the front, past spanish bibles and sandaled feet. A man about 30 something years old with big, droopy eyes and a buzz cut stood two feet in front of me, and I decided to approach him. Turns out he spoke english. He asked for prayer, for his temper towards his wife, and for forgiveness for the way he treated her. 'I don't always treat her right', were his exact words, and he said this about three times. He avoided my eye, or maybe I avoided his. I found myself moved by his confession, which was a new feeling for me, as I knew I would have been filled with anger or a sense of injustice in the past. I prayed earnestly, focusing my mind and my emotions (what I believe is my 'spirit') on his needs and bringing them to God, whom I assume is always listening. When I finished the prayer, he looked me in the eye, thanked me and looked visibly less troubled. This convicted me of how having a God can bring revelation and peace.

Another slightly more interesting (to some people) moment was when I prayed out loud for a 21 year old male prisoner who had been at the prison for two years (additional info: he has a 5 year old daughter) who had a painful 'tree climbing equivalent' of rope burn on his arms. Straight after the prayer he told me, with a smile that lit up his eyes, that it was 'less painful'. All I did was believe in the words I was saying, to the God I was praying to. And he didn't even understand them - he was a native spanish speaker.

Another was when two teenage twin sisters at the orphanage started crying while singing for an informal 'talent show' that we had all set up on one of our days there. This led to a contagious weeping session for most of the girls present, including our mission team, that I had initially dismissed as a show of despair - until one of the girls said 'I met my father, God' when asked why she was crying. The girls confirmed this a half hour later by telling us how they had never experienced anything like that before, and how much our visits meant to them. How we brought 'smiles to their faces' when 'things got difficult'. We left with the warm feeling of hope, hugs and tear stained sleeves.

What did these moments do for me? They told me that someone was listening. And peace was always a result of earnest prayer. Whether on the prayer administer's part or the prayer recipient's part.

Another 'holy moment' was when I realised I *could live for myself no longer. This is a little bit more of a complicated revelation that I can explain another day. It came about as a result of work at the women's shelter as well as distributing food and sundries to families (I didn't see any fathers) **(according to consensus, over 75% of children in Panama are born out of wedlock.) (apparently they believe that 'the best marriage is love') in the slums on the outskirts of the city.

I asked myself: what could I do, write, or say, that would leave the world a better place than when I wasn't in it?

Other moments are so difficult to put into words that I have chosen not to try: they remain a poetic stir of neuron connections in my mind.

One month left in Panama. I'll write again soon.

Cheers,
Cara

*when I write 'I could live for myself no longer', I mean to say that I would not make my own satisfaction and 'happiness' my ultimate goal in life any longer.

**(source: http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1454&dat=19740505&id=Q7UsAAAAIBAJ&sjid=zgkEAAAAIBAJ&pg=926,1309744)