Santa Cruz!

I got to make a lovely trip to Santa Cruz, Bolivia last week. Hermana Lita invited me to accompany her to help out in the national Pastors’ Conference as her husband is the current president. I had only been to Santa Cruz once before (2 days in March with the PBA team) and loved it, so I happily accepted.

I traveled by car with one of the pastors, the pastor’s son, and some girls who help out in the church. It was a 9.5 hour trip, but it was gorgeous. All morning we passed through the mountains, arriving in Chapare at noon for a lunch of delicious local fish. Chapare is the doorway to the Bolivian tropics, so from there on it only got flatter, hotter, and steamier. We arrived at the church sweating (no AC) just in time to head to the airport to pick up the pastor’s wife. We went to dinner near the church and then headed back for a meeting that lasted until 2am! Our churches here have 5am prayer every day, and seeing as it was a pastors’ conference we clearly had to be there.

The rest of the week for me consisted of helping prepare breakfast for the pastors that were staying at our church (the conference was in another church), accompanying Hermana Lita to the conference and meetings, helping the pastor’s son with driving directions, and helping to retrieve dinner for the pastors late at night.

I did get to return to our church with its pastor early one night and share my testimony during the service. It is really a wonderful church, new and small, but the people are all very open and quick to make friends. They really made me miss my old small group! After that service I helped Pastor Edson make purchases for the next day and rent tables. Our final day we held the post-conference meeting in our church. I helped to serve coffee and snacks, set up for lunch, serve the meal, and clean up. Once everyone was gone….we crashed!

The next day was the long drive back to Cochabamba. I must say that I miss Santa Cruz. It is a big city, hot and humid, so much like West Palm Beach. But there still isn’t anything better than pulling up to the BLC, seeing the kids pour out the door, being hugged and told you were missed. It is good to be home again!