The End (Part 1 of at least 2)

Well, as many of you who have seen me either at church or at your doorstep know, I am home. The political situation in Honduras became a bit too hot (ousted president...more to come in a later post) for me to stay safely. This post, though, is more to explain my time in Puerto Lempira more clearly.

It would be an understatement to say that my time in PL taxed my emotional well-being. While life in Belfate meant staying in a casita with near constant electricity, daily showers, and often eating Mrs. Rumbaugh's amazing food, life in PL consisted of beans and sometimes rice, short spurts of sleep that were interrupted by the endless chatter of 8 year-old boys speaking in a language (Moskito) that I didn't understand, feelings of uselessness, and when I was extremely lucky, some coconut bread from downtown. On top of this, as soon as I became used to eating beans, I was introduced to fire beans...One day, a nearby house became engulfed in flames. The Moskito response: cover the fire with beans instead of water. Effective, but not delicious. These beans were later collected and sold to the orphanage. Burnt beans are bad, but beans that are burnt before even being cooked are worse.

It's amazing how God comes through, though. When we ask for deliverance from trials, He often gives us something we need more. This is when Gustavo came on the scene. When fire bean threatened to ruin my last week at the orphanage is when our friendship developed. On multiple occasions we just sat down and talked about what God has done in our lives in 2+ hour installments. A couple of these conversations were only broken up by the havoc that fire beans worked on my bowels. On top of that, being fluent in both Spanish and English, he was able to help Griselia and I communicate more beyond our basic knowledge of each other's languages. Just one example was out worship session. One afternoon, Gris and I went out to play guitar together. About ten minutes in, Gustavo came along and started going back and forth between singing the songs in Spanish and English as Gris and I sand in our own languages. Just having him there enabled us to have fun without a language barrier and to praise God together. It doesn't do justice to say it was cool. Gustavo also really helped me keep my focus when I would get frustrated with the kids. He talked about how we represent Jesus when we let them rub their hands all over our faces (in my case, pulling out my beard/arm hair) despite being covered in dirt and germs. He was a big ispiration/encouragement to my time there, as well as my time back home now.

As for what I actually did there, most of my time was spent hanging out with the kids and trying to get them to do their chores (since school was cancelled every day I was there...I'll probably explain that one in part 2 of this post), teaching Gris English (which was actually a lot of fun), teaching Tara Spanish, and scoping out how things were running at the orphanage. Although I felt useless for a lot of my time there, it was exciting for me to see Tara and Gris begin a frindship in my time there and know that my presence helped that occur. Now that I'm gone, they'll need each other to get through the difficult times and they now know at least a little bit of each others' languages.

Although I was at my wits end when I left, I do really miss the kids and the vast amounts of time I was able to spend with God there. I really don't think I can convey how much of a blessing that time was, but I hope you can just understand that God met me in my weakness and it was great.

Hopefully I'll add the second part of my final post tomorrow and here's a cute kid for all of the women reading this blog...his name was Olbin:

“My grace is sufficient.”

-Jesus Christ, and later, Luke Whipple

Today, I encountered II Corinthians 12:7-9, in which Paul talks about the “thorn in his flesh” and God’s refusal to remove it because “His grace is sufficient…and His power is displayed in [Paul’s] weakness.” Paul was proud of his struggles because they were an opportunity for God to demonstrate his power. Implicit is the fact that, although he desired these weaknesses to leave him, he took joy in his inabilities and that is why he was open to the world about them.

This is such a difficult concept for me to grasp, because I have so many faults and I am greatly pained when I fail. When I lack the confidence in my social abilities to confront problems I see, when I treat women poorly because of my struggles with lust, when I snap at people because I am weary, when I knock others down to build myself up, when I judge people so that I can feel like my faith is strong enough, I beat myself up. Instead, I ought to trust that Christ will work through these things and make my negative qualities public instead of hiding them and solely praying that they will disappear over time.

Therefore, I am using this post to proclaim the power of the Lord in the things he used me to do this past year as a resident assistant. I am not claiming to have been a perfect RA, or to have done all that could possibly have been done, but I am giving credit to God for using a broken man, whose social insecurities have frequently caused him to hide, whose pride causes him to run away from the Lord and attempt things under his own power, whose impatience and inability to purely love a lot of people causes him to treat others poorly, whose desire to be popular to make up for past loneliness causes him to sacrifice the well-being of others for his own social gain to do great things. God used me in precisely the areas that I am completely in
capable so that all credit might be given to His name…SWEET!

Letting Go…

For my entire stay here in Puerto Lempira I’ve been praying that, like Mark 10:29-31 says, I would be able to let go of earthly things and consequently that I would be filled with the things of God and that the Holy Spirit would move through me. It wasn’t until just now, as I was reflecting on my time here, that I realized that the Spirit has been clearly moving between Griselia and I, transcending the limitations imposed by our language barrier and allowing us to be an encouragement to each other. This has come in many forms: laughing at her inability to pronounce beach so that it doesn’t sound like another, less-appropriate word, inspiring each other to patiently love the children here, and praising God together without completely understanding what each other is saying, but being content in the knowledge that we are unified by the same powerful God. Our love for our Lord has enabled me to be her brother and her to be my sister and for us to replace the people and things that we both miss from our respective homes. We are sharing in an inheritance that is absurdly greater than anything this faulted earth can offer and it is fantastic.

In a similar manner, the Jeremy Camp song “Letting Go,” has emphasized the passage in Mark during my time in the Mosquitia. It has reminded me of the folly of holding tightly onto worldly securities. We ought to let go of the rubbish that we often confuse for riches and blessings as well as the pain that is attached to it. In the slow process of replacing the faded glory of earthly treasures for the brilliance of things of God, I have had a minute taste of heaven and I cannot wait to experience that joy in the fullest.

“I have been brought to a place where I want to give up everything, where all I can do is see your face... Letting go of the things I hold so dear, letting go of all my pain and fears... I’m holding on to the things I deem so strong, holding on even though I know I’ve held on too long…Letting go.”

Gravedigger...no, not the Dave Matthews song

As Dr. Rumbaugh says, the five Fs of missions are flexible, flexible, flexible, flexible, frijoles (the last one is my addition) and, well, the result of that attitude is that I have a number of new things to add to my resume…Tuesday’s addition was grave-digging.

I was out front of the orphanage throwing the platilla (Frisbee) with some of the kids when, all of a sudden, they leave me and start running to the rapidly growing circle of kids standing out in a field. When I make my way to the front I found Blackie (MamaTara’s favorite and oldest dog) lying on the ground. Some thought he was hit by a car, but I’m pretty sure he just died naturally. Apparently the last time this happened the pastor came and threw the dog in another field, greatly offended MamaTara, so I decided to bury Blackie in another nearby field. It didn’t take long to dig the hole, but it was difficult to keep the kids from playing with the corpse while doing so.

In other news, things here have been great lately, although I still haven’t found a ton of work for me to do (besides the random needs, like burial). I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on God and the work of the Holy Spirit in my life. At nights, I’m able to go out, enjoy the stars and praise God by myself.

The kids can be frustrating at times, but they are cute and can be a lot of fun. I’m getting used rice and beans and have been able to alleviate my desires for better food in town. I really love the distraction-free lifestyle down here, as it makes it so much easier to just commune with God (even if 5 kids are grabbing/poking/pulling out my leg/arm/chest hair).

And things get more difficult...

Sometimes I ask God for things, only to find out I didn’t actually want them. When God first answered my prayer for things to be a little more difficult…a “more genuine third world experience” by way of MamaTara Orphanage, I thought this was one of those times. In the past day and a half though, I was reminded of God’s promise to multiple in heaven the things that we sacrifice on Earth. That is great encouragement when I have to use a bucket of water dragged out of a well to flush a toilet, use that same bucket to shower myself, share a tiny bedroom with ten little kids and a woman who doesn’t always wear a shirt to sleep, eat beans and rice 3 times a day, or try to figure out a way to get 8 year olds to do their chores. The kids, though, are amazing and serving them really has become my joy.

Things here aren’t nearly as lonely (or English-free) as I expected. MamaTara (which means big momma) speaks some English, Scott and Lizzie are two other Americans who speak less Spanish than I, and Tara is a Canadian who knows almost zero Spanish. Gustavo is our saving grace, being fluent in both Spanish and English. He is fantastic with the kids. I do miss having the Julia and the GCC girls to hang out with as well as consistent internet access, but I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with God and that more than makes up for it.

As for work here, I really don’t know if there’s much for me to do. The construction work is being done by paid workers and I think it wouldn’t be right for me to take their work away from them by helping out. A volunteer team is coming down in a few weeks and will take care of the painting and ditch digging that needs to be done. All that’s really left is to play with the kids and teach Griselia Spanish and Tara, Scott, Lizzie, and Griselia do a great job taking care of the kids and Griselia is usually too busy to have more than short stints of English learning.

Yesterday, I was thinking that it was almost time to head back to Belfate because there was no need for me, but after being needed last night to convince Vinor (the oldest boy) to come back and sleep in his bed after he ran away from the orphanage and after finding a few other places that might need my help, I think there is reason enough for me to stay for at least a bit longer. I’m just seeking God’s will as for what to do and am content with that for now.

"Jesus said, 'Truly I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or farms for My sake and for the gospel's sake, but that he will receive a hundred times as much now in the present age, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and farms, along with persecutions; and in the age to come, eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last, first.'"

For those of you who don't know the GCC girls (sorry Julia, you didn't put yourself in these pictures), Here they are:

Go Tell it on a Mountain

I just had a distinctly third-world moment. As I was walking down the middle of the street to another missionary's home in Belfate to borrow a movie, I heard a rustling in the shadows. Out of the darkness, pops not a person, but two horses. Thankfully horses in Belfate are relatively tame and run away from dogs, and apparently my cough.

I know that I posted quite a bit the other day, but I'm leaving for the MamaTara Orphanage (where it seems I will have very limited internet access) in Mosquitia very early Thursday morning and yesterday's experience was too valuable to not talk about.

Dr. Rumbaugh has three schools he visits up in the mountains and Monday's visit was for us to see them in action and to help deliver books for them to use in starting libraries. Unfortunately none of the teachers showed up (the Vacante deal I mentioned in an earlier post is apparently more frequent on Mondays in the mountains because the teachers live further away). So, because we had made the hour long trek (combination of a hike and a ride in the back of the truck with the four of us and about ten Honduran hitchhikers) we decided to not go back, but to make the most of our visits.

After being dropped off by some doctors who were heading further down the road to a medical clinic (centro de salud), Natalie, Lauren, and I waited by a creek in Las Flores for Dr. Rumbaugh to show up. When he arrived, we dropped off one set of books and began our hike. The hike included crossing two rivers (one of which I may have found a small piece of gold in...unfortunately I can't tell the difference between gold and copper) and a run in with the largest cow I had ever seen. We were traveling on a narrow path across a cow pasture when this cow decided to turn it's head (revealing horns indicating it's status as a male), cutting me off from the other three. I backed up and it moved its head, making room for me to pass. As soon as I moved forward, it aimed its head at me, proceeding to bare its horns at me as I ventured even closer. This process was repeated a few times until I finally dared to get close enough that it started sniffing and chewing on the bucket containing the books for our next library (it formerly contained cat litter...which explains everything). The impasse was resolved when the owner of the bull came out and moved it for us.

After another 5 minutes of hiking we hit the next village (I'm sorry I'm forgetting the name) and read from some pictures Bibles to two girls and their grandfather. From there, we proceeded to the house of Dr. Rumbaugh's friend Victor. We taught his daughters some children's songs. I was paired up with the youngest daughter (Eva), who happened to be very shy. At one point, one of the songs required that we put our arms on each others' shoulders. After I tried to demonstrate this to Eva, she proceeded to nervously grab onto the hammock in front of her and then moved about 3 feet further away from me. Apparently, she had never been touched before...a lot of the people in the mountains have very little social contact beyond their families.

After singing, their mother (Dominica) cooked us a lunch that we hadn't expected. I helped her carry the plates to us, which apparently was unusualy because the men in this culture rarely help out the women. The meal was a meager rice and beans(yes I ate the beans, mom), but it was incredibly generous considering how little this family had and it was quite delicious. Alongside the food was a strange pink drink...mine came in a glass covered in black spots. Oh well, at least I've got imodium to take care of whatever potential ill it might do to me.

From there, we continued down the road about 3 miles to the centro de salud to meet up with the doctors, who were holding a prenatal clinic. After some time singing and reading with the kids, Dr. Rumbaugh and I left to head back down to Belfate. As we were leaving, the first rain I'd experienced in Honduras began. After walking about a mile, we caught up to the motorcycle. After going about 3 feet, it lost all traction and we discovered the mud wouldn't support both of our weights. So I walked back another mile in the pouring rain and waited until the doctors were ready to leave. While the rain could've been a major downer, it ended up being a great time of singing and praising God.

The ride back came with the most beautiful sights I have seen so far on this trip. Honduras supposedly is where the mountains come closest to the shoreline and that affords a breathtaking view. Unfortunately my camera was malfuncationing, but maybe I can get some of Lauren's pictures and throw them up here later.

The amazing moments this day brought are impossible to capture in words, but I hope this gave you just a piece of my experience. John Piper captured it well when he said that missionary work is only true when we are working to expand the glory of God and the glory of God is best displayed in human joy and worship of the Lord.

As For Me...

As for me, things have been wonderful lately. I haven't posted for a few days because I've been up with the Rumbaughs and the girls at night, leaving me no time to get online and put quality time into this.

Yesterday (Saturday), I went with Dr. Rumbaugh and the girls to teach guitar and english in an elementary school in Rio Esteban. Each American was paired up with a Honduran. My partner was named Antonio. After matching us up, Dr. Rumbaugh tells us (in Spanish) that we are to help our partner either learn guitar or piano and to help them practice their english and learn some worship songs. Then he turns to me and says "Antonio speaks english, plays guitar and piano, and knows all of the songs." Still, it was fun to talk to him and help him with his pronunciation of English words. After a little bit, though a bunch more kids came in (Anotonio was actually an adult) and I got paired up with two girls and one boy. While guitar isn't the most fun thing to teach because it really just requires a lot of practice, it was a lot of fun to see the progress the kids were making and to be worshiping God in the process, as they songs that were used to teach them were Spanish praise songs.

After a couple hours of this, I went outside and played frisbee (not with a discraft disc, sorry GCC friends) with a couple of the kids and nearly slammed a three year old in the head. He had a good attitude and really enjoyed when I gave him the frisbee and let him play with us. In the meantime, I had a chance to talk to a teenager that was a student and a worker at Loma de Luz. He wanted to practice his English and we ended up talking about God (in both English and Spanish, since neither of us was fluent in the other's language). He told me that he enjoyed the songs but that his heart wasn't ready for God. It's funny how in Honduras it is the heart that often rejects God, but in the U.S. it is the head that gets in the way.

When we were done at the school, the girls went back to the house and Dr. Rumbaugh and I continued down the road, visiting all of the schools until that road met the sea. I took pictures and notes on each school so that we could see which schools could be a potential match for future students from Grove City. We also got to stop by a soccer tournament for a bit. Although I'm not a huge soccer fan, it is really neat to see the passion that Hondurans have for the sport. By Wednesday, Dr. Rumbaugh will have taken me to most of the fifteen schools that he regularly visits. Tomorrow, we're going up into the mountains (although the poverty in Belfate is significant, it's worse in the mountains) to see his schools up there.

Plans for me to go to Mosquitia and the MamaTara orphanage have been moved up and it looks like I'll be flying out there either Thursday or Friday. Although I'm excited to deal with a less comfortable environment, it will be sad to separate from all of the great Christians here and potentially be lonely for a bit at the orphanage.

On another note (this has to be quick because my battery is essentially dead), we went up to the water tower the other night and look at the stars. It was a reminder of my trip to Haiti since I haven't really seen the stars so clearly since then and a reminder of how clearly God spoke to me and comforted me. It really is amazing to see how much He has worked in my life and changed me in the six years since that trip. We sang songs in Spanish and English, which reminded me both of my trip to Guatemala and the picture of heaven afforded by Revelation 7, of Christians from all nations praising God together and the joy that that moment will bring! As much peace as Christ brings to those who know Him on Earth, I still can't wait to be enjoying His company in Heaven.

I hope all is well and please send me any requests you have for prayer before I leave for Mosquitia, since I don't know how frequently I'll have access to the internet.