Just a few blocks from a local school in Managua, Nicaragua, stood a tiny house with no windows and a little porch out front. A young woman emerged with a baby straddled on her hip. She eagerly invited us inside the home and we humbly agreed, each finding an open space to sit in the small, dark living area.
The woman stuck her head outside of the door and yelled down the street.
“Maxwel!” She called. Her brother was within earshot, playing with his friends. The child bolted inside the house, huffing and puffing—a tattered Bible in his hand and a cheeky grin on his face.
Curious as to why this nine-year-old had his Bible during playtime, we asked, “What were you doing, Maxwel?”
His answer surprised us. “I was preaching to my friends.”
“Is this your Bible?” I asked.
“No, it’s my sister’s.” He pointed to the young woman who had welcomed us in. “I don’t have a Bible.”
“What were you telling your friends?” I continued.
“I’m reading them Ephesians 6:1-2 and Proverbs 10:1!” The boy began to recite. “Children, obey your parents because you belong to the Lord...a wise child brings joy to his father…” Maxwell knew them all by heart!
“Where are your mom and dad, Maxwel?”
That’s when this little preacher informed us his father had passed away and his mother spent long hours working to sustain their family.
We sat there, stunned. Here was a fatherless boy, preaching to his friends about honouring your father and mother! At the tender age of nine, he had already realized his identity in God.
Before we left the house that day, we handed Maxwel his very own New Testament, as well a stack of Esperanza magazines to present to his friends. I have no doubt that Maxwel will continue to abide in God’s Word and share his new favourite verses to his playmates.
I turned and asked our new friend one final question as I cautiously stepped down from the tiny front porch, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Without hesitation, the sweet boy replied, “a pastor.”
Maxwel, you are already a pastor—the youngest pastor in Nicaragua.