A Story in Which Our Son Goes to Central America

I awoke at 2 am with a nagging worry. The day before, I’d learned our almost twenty-year-old son would be clearing brush and boulders from a vacant lot. Our church took a group to Panama for an annual short-term mission, and our son had decided to get his passport and go. Great, I’d thought, He’ll thrive serving this way, as I knew he preferred construction work over ministry work. But in the middle of the night, a sudden thought dismantled my enthusiasm.

Last summer my brother texted a video of a poisonous viper sunning itself on the deck of his vacation rental in Costa Rica. My mid-night terror led me to deduce, Vipers live in Panama too, as the countries share a border. The same “cordillera,” or mountain range, connected the land where the church in Panama sits above a valley. I could picture the church from photos and stories congregants brought back each winter during their one-week stay. Now, I pictured vipers hiding under boulders, so I prayed. I didn’t know if vipers were a reality, and I needed to fall back asleep.

Next day I told my husband. I was reserved to tell our son and annoy him, or worse, cause him alarm. He’d pack boots and work gloves and he’d be fine. Then I calculated how a hospital was unlikely nearby in the small, mountain village. As the fear grew like a beanstalk, I shared my concern with close friends and asked them to pray.

Throughout the week, our son texted updates from Panama. I saw photos of him smiling with his team and with people from the church on the mountaintop. He tried new foods. He trekked along roads and behind the church to glimpse sloths and monkeys in the trees. He learned to communicate with hand signals as he worked alongside men who spoke only Spanish.

Upon beginning the construction work, the team had been cautioned to be alert. Snakes in that region are so poisonous, they were told, it’s rare to survive a sudden strike from a viper. The team carefully moved boulders from a nearby lot to form a ramp, which became a sidewalk, connecting to the church patio.

During the project, our son scooped up a giant caterpillar and carried it on the finger of his work glove. Suddenly, a local man ran over and swatted it off his hand. In Panama, this giant caterpillar’s venom is as fatal as a viper’s.

(Photo taken in Panama by my husband, Mark Friesen, from an earlier visit in 2024)

When our son returned home with only mosquito bites dotting his legs, I was so grateful. The vipers stayed hidden in bushes and unmoved boulders. God had heard my prayers and the prayers of my friends.

The trip was an accomplishment for both our son and me.

For our son, he befriended and served alongside people in the Panama church who treasure Christ, same as in our church at home. He’ll remember the church and the construction work, the giant caterpillar and God’s providence.

For me, I’ll remember how entrusting friends to pray—and entrusting our son to the Lord that week—proved better than holding tight to fear.

---

New to reading my blog? Click here to sign up for future stories delivered to your inbox.