People Before Everything: What Nicaragua is Teaching Me About Discipleship

I’m writing this from León, Nicaragua, where I’ve come with a team from my church to serve alongside the ministry of El Ayudante. This is not my first time here—and I hope it’s not my last—but each time I return, something in my spirit is stirred. It’s not just the beauty of the land or the vibrancy of the people. It’s something deeper. Something I feel before I can explain.

There’s a different rhythm here. A different set of values quietly shaping the way people move through their day. It’s most evident in one simple, powerful truth: relationships come first.

And I don’t mean that in a nice-sounding, church-sign kind of way. I mean that in the actual way people live and lead and love here. Time is not the highest value. Efficiency is not the main goal. Individual achievement or preference is not the final word. People matter most. Relationships take precedence. Everything else follows.

A Culture of Connection

In Nicaragua, you don’t just pass someone by with a nod and a tight smile. You stop. You greet them. You ask about their family, their health, their heart. You make space for connection. Not because it’s efficient—but because it’s human.

Schedules bend for conversation. Tasks wait for relationship. Conversations are not transactional—they’re transformational.

And what might seem inefficient to many Americans is actually one of the most powerful spiritual lessons I’ve learned on these trips: people are not interruptions to our mission—they are the mission.

The Contrast Back Home

Back in the States, we’re masters of productivity. We know how to organize, schedule, and execute. We know how to squeeze value out of every minute and multitask our way through the week.

But here’s the thing: in all our efficiency, we’ve often lost the art of being present.

In the U.S., people often become the background noise to our personal priorities. We see relationships as means to ends—networking, collaborating, problem-solving—but not always as ends in themselves. We think discipleship is about delivering content, hosting programs, or checking boxes. But what if the real transformation happens in the space between agendas?

We live in a world where time is scarce, attention is divided, and presence is rare. So we speed past people in the name of productivity—failing to see that discipleship begins not with systems but with attention.

What Nicaragua Reminds Me

Every day I’ve spent here reminds me that Jesus built His ministry on presence.

He stopped for people. He sat at tables. He walked with friends. He noticed the woman who touched His robe. He waited at the well for a conversation. He was interruptible.

And not only that—His discipleship model was deeply relational. Before Jesus gave a sermon on a mount or sent out a crowd to serve, He invited a few to walk with Him, eat with Him, listen, ask questions, and grow in relationship. Discipleship wasn’t a curriculum. It was a shared life.

That’s what I see here. A shared life. People who know that time spent together is time invested, not time wasted. People who believe that the work of God begins in the love we show each other.

The Missional Implication

If the missional church is about anything, it’s about presence. Not just programs or outreach events—but embodied, intentional, relational presence in the lives of others.

And that starts with the church learning to slow down and pay attention again. To resist the temptation to treat people as tasks. To see every neighbor, every stranger, every teammate, every child as someone worth the time.

Mission without relationship becomes charity.

Discipleship without relationship becomes instruction.

But mission with relationship becomes incarnation.

And discipleship with relationship becomes transformation.

A Different Kind of Success

One of the things I’ve wrestled with on this trip is the definition of “success” we carry in ministry.

In the U.S., we love metrics—how many showed up, how much was accomplished, how efficiently it was done. But in León, success looks more like this:

• Did we sit with someone and listen well?

• Did we share a laugh or a prayer?

• Did we honor the moment we were in rather than rushing to the next?

And when I think about it, that sounds a lot like the kingdom of God.

What We Can Bring Home

As we prepare to leave this place and return to our routines, I find myself wondering: How can we carry this relational rhythm home?

How can we disciple people not just with information but with presence?

How can our churches prioritize connection over convenience?

How can we build ministry teams that aren’t just aligned in vision, but bound in love?

Here are a few small but powerful ways:

1. Make space in your schedule to be interruptible.

   
   

   Don’t let efficiency crowd out encounter.

2. Start with names, not needs.

   
   

   Learn who people are before jumping to what they can do.

3. Measure faithfulness, not just fruitfulness.

   
   

   Don’t count only outcomes—celebrate time spent together in Christ.

4. Slow down your discipleship models.

   
   

   Let relationship be the soil where growth takes root.

5. Teach your people that discipleship is relational by design.

   
   

   Jesus didn’t send people off alone—He sent them two by two.

Closing Thought

There’s a kind of wealth here in Nicaragua that doesn’t always show up on paper. It shows up in people. In kindness. In patience. In the space people make for each other.

And maybe what the American church needs most isn’t another strategy or program—but a renewed commitment to people before everything.

Because when we slow down enough to notice others, to be present, to share life—we find Jesus already there, waiting for us at the table.