I shook my head in amazement as I looked at the people who kept pouring through the front gate of our new home, James Project of Latin America in Monjas, Jalapa (Guatemala). Many of these people had walked the mile from town to the orphanage, if they couldn’t find room in the back of somebody’s pickup.

I didn’t realize that this day, dedication to the Lord day, would impact me like it did. Joanne and I had started the orphanage three years before in San Cristobal. We found this property where we could expand and where the children could experience freedoms that they couldn’t have in the City. James 1:27 and Psalm 68:5 became the mandate given to us. You are the Father of the fatherless for these children and those to come. Oh, Lord, help me to know what that means in real life. They need to understand it in their hearts. The immensity of what it meant to have an orphanage and a school struck me as I looked over the ten acres.

Joanne and I desired that the girls have the opportunity for ministry and service in the community. These learning experiences would prepare them to reach out to others, just as people did for them. So we invited the community to come and get acquainted with all of us, the girls, and included several slots in the program for the girls to perform on stage. Would they receive us as friends?

Bob and Sharon Parks from Isaiah 62:4 Ministries; Pastor Peter Gilliland from Wasilla, Alaska; and Pastor Ralph Diaz from New York ministered to our group during the dedication. What a blessing to have other stateside guests to celebrate with us.

We had planned the details for this evening many weeks before. Some of the simplest ideas ended up taking hours to accomplish. With the closest bakery hours away, we had to find someone who could bake cakes for a few hundred people. We stepped out, sought people for advice, and the plans came together. The evening came, and the show began. However, surprises awaited all of us during the dedication of the property, despite our great preparation for it.

People filled the chairs under the donated tent designed for two-hundred people. It became obvious that the numbers coming in well surpassed the neatly placed chairs. With a need for more seating, chairs were placed on the porch of the duplex, and from there chairs went anywhere there happened to be space. We talked about doing things Guatemalan style, which is cramming many into small spaces. We did it up good that night.

Where did all of these people come from? Could we accommodate everyone with the threat of rain? We later discovered that when a pastor receives an invitation to an event, he passes that invitation on to his congregation. A family will pass the invitation on to their aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and neighbors. Since we were new people in the community, and gringos besides, many people wanted to see us and the orphanage. We then understood the reason for the multitudes and felt pleased that they all came.

The moment arrived. The local gospel band struck their cords as our youngest, spunky Celin, led the girls onto the make-shift stage, just as the heavens opened. Oh no, would they be able to continue with the praise and worship? Some of the band had to stand partially under the canvas and partially in the downpour. Lord, do we need to cancel everything and wait for a drier day? I looked at the angry gray clouds and knew the rain wouldn’t end soon. What could we do now?