Author: Erik de Kievit

“Bon dia.” She suddenly turns around. “Bon dia, I know you,” she says. “That’s right, I was here last week too,” I respond. She is skinny and cheerful, very volatile in her behavior, but at the same time so present that she cannot escape you. Despite the smile on her face, it is clear that she is not doing well. She makes hardly any eye contact and it is difficult to decipher what exactly is going on in her mind. She is not properly dressed, but she has really tried her best to appear decent with little clothing. “How are you?” I ask her. “Good, good,” she answers and quickly looks away. “How are you, okay too?” She doesn’t wait for my answer and walks away from me, into the warehouse where we work. She doesn’t know how to handle my sincere attention and tries to divert it. Or is she really distracted again?
I don’t know. Two seconds later she is talking to one of the female volunteers. Fortunately, this volunteer has a good idea of ​​what is going on and arranges extra clothes for her without asking any questions. A little later she gratefully settles down with a cup of soup and a sandwich. Meanwhile, she talks endlessly about everything and basically nothing. In her own way, she tries to make contact with the people around her, ignoring the looks of addicted and often homeless men. After she finishes her food she hangs around for a while. It is noticeable that she appreciates the atmosphere in the warehouse. One of the volunteers talks and prays with her. Then she has had enough, gets up with, greets us generally, and leaves. No one knows where she is going. Later that afternoon I see her walking the streets. She comes up to me in the middle of the road, looks me straight in the eyes and says, “I’m so grateful for what you guys do. Please, don’t stop.” She looks away and she is gone.

When we chose to go on this long-term mission to Aruba, we could not have foreseen how it would go. We went with the confidence that God knew what He was calling us to do. I am still honored that He sent us out and at the same time I am so grateful that I did not know then what we would encounter. Living on a tropical island is a nice thing in itself. We regularly receive comments about this from our supporters. Several people say: “How wonderful, you can go to the beach every day.” Or they sigh: “I wish I was there and could enjoy the sun.” These are understandable comments, especially when they are made from a cold country, covered by gray clouds with more rain than sunshine. Yet it is good to realize that living in another culture is not a sunny holiday. You have to continuously adapt to different habits, crazy situations you can find yourself in, and many moments when your sense of justice is being challenged. Now you can say: “But you chose that yourself, right?” and you’re right, we did. We made the choice to go on this mission. At the same time, it is too simplistic to assume that everything will be fun when making such a choice.

Suppose you meet the man (or woman) of your dreams and you love him (her) dearly. Then you would do anything to be with that person, wouldn’t you? With making that choice, you accept everything that comes with it. But it doesn’t mean that everything will be easy, that life from then on will go smoothly always. It’s the same with missions. Yes, we live here on a sun-drenched island with a beautiful blue sea all around. But the raw reality is that what the tourist sees during those few weeks of holiday on this One Happy Island is not a reflection of what is really going on; broken relationships, serious addictions, generational abuse patterns, deep-rooted corruption, and much more. If you don’t look away at the beautiful beaches and the beautiful sea, the pain of all that brokenness can easily get under your skin. Especially if that injustice regularly enters your own life too. It is therefore a good thing that we have a Father on whom we can focus. His love is the oxygen we desperately need to continue breathing underneath the surface of this beautiful life.

Photo: Willem Poppe

This week we have friends from America visiting. It was on their list to climb the Hooiberg mountain. So we got out of bed at 5:30 am and were on top just before sunrise. What a view! One of our guests brought his drone with him to take some nice photos and videos. As he flew his drone over the water park at the bottom of the Hooiberg, he said that he thought it would be fun to go to the water park. 

A few hours later we were in San Nicolas helping out at the Hub. There he started talking to another volunteer. It turned out that she knew the owner of the water park. Long story short; the owner turned out to be interested in the video footage and a day later we could enjoy the water park with six people for free. 

Last Sunday we went to church in the morning. The pastor spoke about how we can ask God for everything and that we can trust that He will give us what we need. At the end of the service we had silent prayer. I asked God why it is taking so long before we can sign for our house. During the prayer I had the thought: “this week”. I noticed that, based on various recent disappointments, I quickly dismissed the thought with: “it will be okay”, and after the prayer I just went on with the day. But on Monday we received a message from the notary that she has collected all the papers and that we will receive an appointment to sign shortly. What a view!

Today I had a counseling session with a lady. She told me everything she has been through. It was mind-blowing. Even now, her situation still looks dire and hopeless. I talked to her about how our Father never lets go and wants to walk with us in all circumstances. She told me about how she knows that her Father speaks to her and lets her know what she can do in every situation. She always keeps her eyes on Him and continues in confidence, despite everything. What a view!

We have a milkweed plant in our yard. This is the only plant on which the Monarch butterfly lays eggs. These eggs become caterpillars and these caterpillars eat all the way around the plant. When they have eaten enough, they pupate into a beautiful cocoon, green with a golden edge. The potential is there and we know that if the cocoon survives eight days in a row, a beautiful butterfly will emerge. We’ve seen it happen. So beautiful!

We also saw several times that the cocoon had been eaten by flies. The beautiful and promised potential was never born. And honestly, that feels pretty bad. Even if it is just about a single small butterfly. That is why my wife came up with something. As soon as a caterpillar had pupated, she removed the cocoon from the plant and hung it on our wooden notice board. This way, many caterpillars were spared and we saw beautiful butterflies emerge from their cocoon day after day.

We know a girl in San Nicolas who regularly comes to the teen club. It is the only place where she can and is allowed to be herself. Of course, there are limits on her behavior, but if she wanted to wear a hood, that was okay, and if she did or said something strange, it was handled well. She often spoke in a dark, extra tough voice and maintained a tough and semi-shy attitude. It was not easy to communicate with her. Although she understands English and Dutch perfectly, all her answers came back in aggrieved Papiamento mumbling. Or she hid in her hood and looked away.

Last Saturday, I brought her home and I noticed that she had taken good care of herself. She no longer wore that eternal hood and she had beautiful dreadlocks and neat glasses on her head. Her eyes were bright and she talked to the other kids on the bus in a light tone that I had never heard before. Of course, I have no idea what exactly made her change so much, but what struck me is that she felt free and made contact. And when I dropped her off at home and wished her a nice evening, I actually got a smile back. It’s nice to see how the teen club can function as a kind of notice board for young people who still have to develop themselves. For me this was an evening with a golden edge.

Yesterday, I drove around San Nicolas with Willem and Arnold to get to know the Village better. We hoped to meet a few people we could talk to. Actually, our goal was to just be in the neighborhood and see what God had in store for us. This may not be the most desirable way of working for results-oriented Dutch people, but over here other ways of working will not get you anywhere. Everything is based on relationships. If you know someone who trusts you, who knows someone else who can help you, then you can come in. And otherwise you cannot. So being present in the neighborhood is the best thing we can do. Meeting people, show our faces, have a chat and we’ll do that again next week. In this way, the local residents get to know us little by little and we get to know them better as well. Today Willem had a conversation with a lady who was sitting on a bench in the middle of the Village, smoking crack. Arnold managed to connect with various residents in a very accessible way to hear more about the neighborhood from them. And I met my addicted Jamaican friend. He has lived in the Village for fifteen years and he promised to ask around and come up with more information about the basketball court in the middle of the neighborhood. Today we also met Lina^[1] again. This woman is a point of contact in the Village and regularly takes care of groups of children by organizing activities for them. It was the third time I spoke to her and this time she offered to drive around the neighborhood with us soon. I gratefully accepted the invitation and immediately made an appointment for next week. For now, we mainly work with a view to the front door. We can’t get any further yet. But by being faithful and coming back, we gently knock on every front door we see. Who knows, God may give us the opportunity to make a difference for the people in this neighborhood.

^[1] Fictitious name

After four months of living together with two other families in one house, our house is now empty again. We had ten extra people in the house for most of that time. It’s special to see that this went so well. Yes, we had to give up some privacy and that was not always easy to do. And it was often very busy to take so many people into account. But it was also a blessing that there were people who helped in what was not an easy time for us. Now the house is empty again and it is especially quiet here. What a change, we could hardly imagine what it was like to be with the three of us. We enjoy it and at the same time we are grateful for the time we had and the extra seeds that could be planted by the presence of these families in Aruba. Are we going to do this again for four months? No, we can say with near certainty that it is not good for us as a family to do this in the same way again. Not because we do not want to be so hospitable again, but simply because good self-care is essential in this 7×24 hour work. Yet gratitude for living together with thirteen people in recent times prevails. God has given us all enough peace, grace, wisdom, strength, service, humor, and perseverance (read: love) to do this together in a good way.
How good it is, how wonderful to live together as brothers! There the Lord gives His blessing: life forever.

When mama Sandra passed away (see my blog no. 009), the ministries she left behind were continued on an ad hoc basis. Annelies coordinated everything well, but not everyone was available every week. So it was a search. There was quite a bit of uncertainty among the volunteers involved about how to proceed. Would everyone continue to help? Who would want to do what was needed to be done? Questions that none of us had the answers to at that time. Especially because the ministry involved three groups of people; the women, the homeless and the families.
Fortunately, Annelies organized a meeting. Miraculously, there were seven different parties at the table, all willing to take a piece. The schedule for the homeless shelter on Saturday morning had already been created and filled. There are four teams that have a turn every four weeks. There were also people present who would like to further build contact with the women. Mama Sandra did this with passion and these women were actually the core of her ministry. She saw them almost every week. I am pleased that this work will continue and that the women will continue to have a point of contact.
We can focus (together with others) on the families in the Village (San Nicolas). This work fits in seamlessly with our personal mission and I am grateful that we can actually step into this naturally.
After the meeting, we chatted for a while and were amazed at how mom Sandra still did everything by herself at the beginning of the summer. Well, alone, with God then. How special is it that God has given her ministry a home in the Hub after that time and has brought all kinds of people on her path who can now take over the work. In this way we can continue to build together what God started with just mama Sandra.

Last Friday, I was reading the Bible in the morning. God had drawn my attention to the book of John. And as I read through the chapters in John, my thoughts were drawn to specific parts of scripture. It was about, among other things, how Jesus is in the Father and we are in Jesus and Jesus is in us (John 14:20). As I thought about what a blessing it is that Jesus has sent the Holy Spirit to us and that He is still with us, I thought I could preach on this Bible passage. But wanting to read further, I put the thought of this aside. 
Less than five minutes later, I received a call from a pastor friend here on the island. He told me that he had become ill and that he and his entire family had to be quarantined. Would I like to preach at his church? I burst out laughing and could say with certainty that God had already made it clear to me that I could say ‘yes’ and that I even knew what it was supposed to be about. How wonderful it is when God is so close that we can live with Him every day. Although it is often the case that I feel like I do not hear Him, or do not hear Him in time, I sincerely hope that this is a harbinger of how close God wants to be with all of us. That He surprisingly often makes us fishers of men because He works with His Spirit in us every day.

Hanneke and I have friends somewhere in a not so obvious country in Asia. We became friends this year after a digital meeting with YWAM Family Ministries. We were linked together to pray for each other. We started talking and discovered that they run a Restoration House for couples in their country. They do this together with another couple. They invite couples to stay in this house for a week. During that week they guide these couples with education and counseling through their marital problems. Fantastic and so necessary! Hanneke and I would also like to eventually start a restoration house in Aruba and so we took the opportunity to learn from these friends how they approach everything. What they do is very inspiring, but also dangerous. What they are doing is not allowed in that country and the government actively intervenes when they discover that this is happening. Our friends constantly live with the risk of being arrested. Yet they continue. What heroes of faith!
Because not everyone has the opportunity to come their way, our friends also travel across the country to “inaccessible” places. Until recently, they used their own car for this purpose. A month ago, while traveling back from one of the meetings where they had spoken, they had a serious car accident along the way. And so it could happen that they were prayed for from all over the world through their contacts at YWAM Family Ministries.
Fortunately, they are doing well physically. They still need some processing time, and of course another car, but they are in good spirits and grateful that God has spared them. Will you pray that they can continue their mission in good health?

On Mondays and Thursdays I^[1] go swimming very early in the morning at Baby Beach, at the very southern tip of the island. Today a Coast Guard helicopter flew over and continued to circle the area around us. My fellow athletes and I thought it was a beautiful sight and we waved. We did wonder why the helicopter kept circling in this area. That became clear a little later.

A friend of ours had gone for a walk while we were swimming and at a beach a little further away he saw an empty boat on the sand with some empty jerry cans next to it. Footsteps could be seen from the boat, inland. They were the footsteps of refugees from Venezuela.

While I swam in the water and enjoyed the sunrise, they were chased by the coast guard. We later learned that at least three had been arrested and jailed. The others must have hidden in the desolate landscape of southern Aruba. They made a crossing of 26 kilometers in the dark, in a small boat, over a rough sea. They then walked, partly in the dark, through an unknown area with all kinds of cacti and spiny forests, chased by the searchlight of the coast guard. And even before that, they left everything behind in the hope of surviving.

Now when I see a helicopter I don’t wave anymore. I then fold my hands and my heart cries.

^[1] This blog was written by Hanneke.
Photo: Wikipedia.