I met Jesus in Costa Rica

Our family just returned from a magical trip to Costa Rica, which truly is named accurately, “The Rich Coast”. Every square mile is bursting with life- plants, creatures, colors. Mangos fall freely, bananas grow on the side of the road, an abundance of green delights the eyes in every direction. As we drove into town from the airport, I pulled out my phone, trying to capture the un-captureable. I saw myself in my human instinct to hold onto this beauty and tuck it in my pocket. We’ve grown so culturally accustomed to holding on in this way. Always having these tiny computers within reach, wanting to connect but often missing the moment in order to do so. And so I set the phone down, opened the window as the ocean came into view and allowed my senses to take it all in: the salty air, the humid breeze on my face, the glittering waves. We have our own way of locking these pictures into place through our senses. And when we choose to fully immerse ourselves in the moments of awe, we fill our nervous system with information that invites our bodies to relax and be at ease. After only a few days of this, all my tissues shifted into a state of softening I hadn’t felt since before my car accident. It was relief I didn’t even know I was craving.

We rented a house on a hill and when we walked up the stairs (and there were PLENTY of stairs, I was so grateful for the use of my legs and all the rehab I’ve done to this point), the view took my breath away. It stunned in 180 degrees with treetops and ocean as far asks the eye could see. There was a swing on the deck and in that moment I promised myself I would spend time reading a new book I was looking forward to every chance I got.

After a long travel day, we unloaded our things and set the kids up before making our way down the hill for dinner. We drove around a bit to orient ourselves to where we would go to the beach and what there was to eat close by. Navigating food on vacation has been a significant struggle for us with kids who have allergies and sensitivities and I’ve often had to take over a lot of the meals because we have a hard time finding fresh, whole foods at restaurants where we’ve been. I love to cook, but cooking for 6 people everyday is a lot and taking a much needed break was a hope. When we found Lola’s, it was like the universe was shining a beacon of light on our trip. Down a dirt road near the beach was a little sign for a restaurant attached to a boutique surf hotel. We are starving so the timing was right for me to hop out and take a look at the menu. I could see this little outdoor cafe with a slack line, trampoline, corn hole game, and little outdoor kitchen for kids next door. The food looked good so I signaled for James to find a spot to park. “Hola!” We were greeted with a warm smile and offered a seat. There was only one other couple in the place and at 6:30 p.m. I was worried this might be a bad sign. I was so wrong. We ordered and when our food came, it was fresh and perfectly presented. Every bite was a treat. We ate shrimp, kale salad with avocado, poke bowls, fresh smoothie bowls with fruit, nuts and seeds, jugo en agua (which is like a Costa Rican version of agua fresca), ribs with rice and sautéed veggies. I was so excited we found something that didn’t just work for us, but something we all actually loved. So we went back for breakfast the next day…

After eating at Lola’s in the morning, we walked down to the beach and as the trail opened up to the ocean, I was overwhelmed with feeling and beauty and gratitude for life, I started to cry. There was a sweet Costa Rican woman who had attempted to sell us some of her fresh juice that sweetly said to me when I named that the beauty of the moment brought tears to my eyes, “So cry- I cry!”

We found a little handmade hut of driftwood and palm branches and parked our clothes and towels before running straight into the warm pacific waves. The delight on every one of my children’s faces in that moment is burned into my memory. The novelty, the joy, the excitement swirled around us as we laughed, splashing each other and diving under waves together. The kids dig holes and built drip castles until we started to get hungry again in the afternoon.

Walking back up the hill to our house was hot. Hot is an understatement, actually. We were sweating profusely, but it didn’t really matter because we were met with the Tuesday street fair. We were all so interested in the booths of art and delicious foods that we were distracted enough, there was no complaining from any of the four kids. Miracles happen in Costa Rica.

We all stopped at a booth together admiring some unique jewelry of twisted metal and crystals. This is where we met Jesus. In Spanish, it’s pronounced heh-soos. My 8 year old was admiring a teal bracelet made of beads. Being her impulsive and excitable self she says, “I want this bracelet.” As I opened my mouth to meet her with some parenting, Jesus beats me to it and says, “It’s yours. Go ahead and take it.” She looked at me and I shook my head, but Jesus insisted and even took the bracelet and adjusted it to her wrist to fit perfectly. I let him know I didn’t have any cash but that I could send money through Venmo or come back with cash. He looked at me and said no, he was happy to gift it to her. That if we were still in town to come visit him next week. I was taken aback with this kind of generosity. This man was an artist living a modest and simple life, giving of his gifting freely, trusting so deeply in the reciprocity of life and I saw Jesus in Jesus. I was touched and inspired. Jesus gave us the experience of Pura Vida (what they say all over Costa Rica, “Pure Life!”). I’m grateful for Jesus- he’s changed something in me along with Costa Rica and while there are a hundred wonderful stories I could share with you, this one feels the most valuable.

Costa Rica reminded me of something I had forgotten after the accident: life is still generous. Not because it is easy, and not because suffering doesn’t exist. But because alongside the hard things, there are mangos falling from trees, warm ocean waves, strangers who tell you to cry when beauty moves you, and artists named Jesus who give bracelets away for no reason other than kindness.

For months, my body has been scanning for what might go wrong. In Costa Rica, I remembered how to notice what was going right. I remembered that abundance is not something we earn or chase, but something we learn to receive. Maybe that is the real meaning of pura vida- a life that remains open to wonder, trusting there is still beauty to be found, generosity to be received, and love waiting in unexpected places. I met Jesus in Costa Rica and forgotten part of myself, too.