Jalapeño Salsa
Last night, my family had some friends over for dinner so we could catch up and talk about my time in Nicaragua. What a privilege and joy it is for me to be able to share my stories, pictures, emotions, and experiences with people that I love! On the menu for the evening was an authentic Nicaraguan meal of chicken with jalapeño sauce, gallo pinto, fried plantains, and mango.
I started cooking with high hopes because the mango was ripe, orange, and almost as sweet as a fresh mango from Nicaragua. However, my excitement was crushed when I first tasted the gallo pinto I made. Even though I brought the seasoning packets back from Jinotega, it just wasn't the same. So I next started the jalapeño salsa, which I have actually never made before. I have watched Marina do it a thousand times, but I know that I don't have her amazing touch. But when I added the sour cream to the onions and jalapeño peppers in the pan, I smelled the most wonderful, familiar smell. It smelled exactly like Marina's kitchen!
I’m not sure why, but tears welled up in my eyes when I smelled that jalapeño sauce. I closed my eyes as memories rushed back into my mind. I was there again, cooking and laughing in the kitchen with Marina. I could feel Angelita’s tight hugs when she would lay her head on my shoulder. I could hear children laughing as we played duck duck goose in a cow pasture. I could hear the church singing at the top of their lungs, “Te quiero Señor, te amo Señor, con el corazón!” I was once again eating tres leches cake with Heilym at the coffee shop. I could smell the rain as it dripped of the tin roof of the new house we built for Maria and her family in San Antonio. I could picture the faces of the Misquito people as they were absorbed in the Jesus film. I saw the smile on one lady’s weathered face and the tears in her eyes as she thanked me for eight small packages of fortified rice.
It is more than jalapeño sauce; it is the memories that flow from it.
So many things are extra special and beautiful about Nicaragua, but when you try to bring them back here to the States, it is just not the same. Mangos, for example. Or riding in the back of a truck. Or eating peanut butter and jelly every day for lunch and loving it. I miss kissing everyone at church. I love hugging random kids and then playing with them for hours when I don’t even know them, and their parents don’t mind at all. Or what about wearing my lime green pants with my superman shirt and my hair pinned back in ten bobby pins because I just rolled out of bed to go to work? I miss Nicaragua because there is no agenda, or at least not one that is guaranteed to be uninterrupted. Things never go as planned, timing is irrelevant, and the only goal of the day is to love and serve people in the name of Jesus. No TV, no cell phone, no homework, appointments, classes, to-do lists. Just wake up, look for Jesus, and join Him in His work. Those kind of things are easy to do in Nicaragua, but difficult to do back home. Sometimes I just sigh and say, “It’s just not the same.”
But then I get a whiff of jalapeño sauce, and the emotions come rushing back. I realize that some things can be the exact same! I can still live here the way I did in Jinotega by living simply, enjoying every moment, and not getting so caught up in my to-do lists. I can ignore the clock, allow my schedule to be interrupted, and live as though I am looking for Jesus and working for His kingdom every moment of every day. I can live as if the things I am doing today are eternally significant, as if I can change the world in front of me. I can love like Jesus loved, get outside my comfort zone, and be the radical follower of Jesus that I want to be even when the world thinks I’m crazy.
Most of all, there is one thing that has certainly not changed, and that is the Lord. He never changes, ever. I may move from place to place, but His work just keeps going all around the world. He is still continuing His work in Nicaragua, in Little Rock, and in my own little life. He always finishes what He begins, and I know His work is not done yet. Although many things from Nicaragua just aren’t the same in the United States, our faithful God is.
In Nicaragua, the mango may be sweeter, the prices cheaper, the coffee richer, and the weather nicer, but some things stay the same. Like God. Like love. Like relationships. Like jalapeño salsa.
I started cooking with high hopes because the mango was ripe, orange, and almost as sweet as a fresh mango from Nicaragua. However, my excitement was crushed when I first tasted the gallo pinto I made. Even though I brought the seasoning packets back from Jinotega, it just wasn't the same. So I next started the jalapeño salsa, which I have actually never made before. I have watched Marina do it a thousand times, but I know that I don't have her amazing touch. But when I added the sour cream to the onions and jalapeño peppers in the pan, I smelled the most wonderful, familiar smell. It smelled exactly like Marina's kitchen!
I’m not sure why, but tears welled up in my eyes when I smelled that jalapeño sauce. I closed my eyes as memories rushed back into my mind. I was there again, cooking and laughing in the kitchen with Marina. I could feel Angelita’s tight hugs when she would lay her head on my shoulder. I could hear children laughing as we played duck duck goose in a cow pasture. I could hear the church singing at the top of their lungs, “Te quiero Señor, te amo Señor, con el corazón!” I was once again eating tres leches cake with Heilym at the coffee shop. I could smell the rain as it dripped of the tin roof of the new house we built for Maria and her family in San Antonio. I could picture the faces of the Misquito people as they were absorbed in the Jesus film. I saw the smile on one lady’s weathered face and the tears in her eyes as she thanked me for eight small packages of fortified rice.
It is more than jalapeño sauce; it is the memories that flow from it.
So many things are extra special and beautiful about Nicaragua, but when you try to bring them back here to the States, it is just not the same. Mangos, for example. Or riding in the back of a truck. Or eating peanut butter and jelly every day for lunch and loving it. I miss kissing everyone at church. I love hugging random kids and then playing with them for hours when I don’t even know them, and their parents don’t mind at all. Or what about wearing my lime green pants with my superman shirt and my hair pinned back in ten bobby pins because I just rolled out of bed to go to work? I miss Nicaragua because there is no agenda, or at least not one that is guaranteed to be uninterrupted. Things never go as planned, timing is irrelevant, and the only goal of the day is to love and serve people in the name of Jesus. No TV, no cell phone, no homework, appointments, classes, to-do lists. Just wake up, look for Jesus, and join Him in His work. Those kind of things are easy to do in Nicaragua, but difficult to do back home. Sometimes I just sigh and say, “It’s just not the same.”
But then I get a whiff of jalapeño sauce, and the emotions come rushing back. I realize that some things can be the exact same! I can still live here the way I did in Jinotega by living simply, enjoying every moment, and not getting so caught up in my to-do lists. I can ignore the clock, allow my schedule to be interrupted, and live as though I am looking for Jesus and working for His kingdom every moment of every day. I can live as if the things I am doing today are eternally significant, as if I can change the world in front of me. I can love like Jesus loved, get outside my comfort zone, and be the radical follower of Jesus that I want to be even when the world thinks I’m crazy.
Most of all, there is one thing that has certainly not changed, and that is the Lord. He never changes, ever. I may move from place to place, but His work just keeps going all around the world. He is still continuing His work in Nicaragua, in Little Rock, and in my own little life. He always finishes what He begins, and I know His work is not done yet. Although many things from Nicaragua just aren’t the same in the United States, our faithful God is.
In Nicaragua, the mango may be sweeter, the prices cheaper, the coffee richer, and the weather nicer, but some things stay the same. Like God. Like love. Like relationships. Like jalapeño salsa.
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