I just returned from the community of Esperanza, “Hope”, far up the Tupisa River, an Embera’ village of about 350 people where we have just begun a community water installation from scratch, funded by Rotary International and with collaboration from local institutions. My right-hand man, Fernando, is from that village, and he stayed to lead the community in digging and laying pipe while I surface to continue with material purchases and logistics. While there, we sleep in the home of Fernando’s grandparents who raised him as a child and which he sees as his parents. While there, I am confronted with two perceptions that wrestle with one another.

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On the one hand, it is peaceful and welcoming. I sense envy in my heart standing on the high-end point of the peninsula which encompasses the community created by a large unmoving bend in the river. Forty feet below, down winding concrete steps, the ancient bedrock juts into an expansive pool, continually replenished to overflowing by the churn of crystalline rapids that stretch up the lush throat of the shallow valley. On the rock below, children jump off the ledge, scattering schools of fish and unable to discern the bottom of the pool, unchanged since Fernando did the same as a tiny boy.

On the other hand, I find myself repeatedly grieved by the suffering of creation. Fernando’s grandparents are elderly and frail. Grandfather’s blind eyes stare distantly as he greets us. He coughs frequently, and Fernando, having suffered covid-19, is concerned and bothered that he was not previously informed by the family. A stump smolders in the yard, sending smoke into the house. Fernando orders the young, single mother living in the home to extinguish it. Trash fires burn in other parts of the community. (Smoke is the 2nd leading cause of preventable death next to waterborne illness in the developing world). A dog whimpers and lurches below, allegedly vaccinated 3 times for something, but obviously on the brink of death. Fernando signals to the steep, forty-foot cliff with the concrete stairs… no handrail. On the left, below a drop, is a mass of charred cans, glass, and the like. “My grandmother tumbled down this into the river five years ago. See the mark on her forehead?”

I returned to this village with my family and it was amazing! I am praising, praising, praising God for how He is giving Colleen and the kid’s joy in serving in the communities and grace to weather the inherent challenges. It would be better if you heard it from them, so here’s a little video. For firsts, Joshua learned to swim! For lasts, Colleen seems to have been cured of a lifelong allergy to cilantro! She ate it with gusto and no reaction! We enjoyed fellowship with the local church and found time to weld together their new building for gathering and worship.

Blessings,

Los Foster


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Please pray for Zeal to know Jesus through Scripture. For continued health, strength, and protection. And for wisdom with family and ministry matters.


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