We just got in from Honduras. 4 days of ministry, so good, and so good to be home!
I’m honestly not the developing nation type, and often feel guilty for lacking the spirit of adventure ideal for such trips. A love for familiar routines, being on time, and especially 1/2 & 1/2 in morning coffee, makes me wonder if it’s ever really my turn to go.
But when you marry a man who loves the world and you love that man, you go where he asks you to go…so we went. (Facebook has some fun and funny photos if you’re interested.)
Every time I come back thinking the same….Americans should travel to the developing world at least once, and ideally once a year. It brings to light the selfishness and attitudes of privilege and entitlement that so easily creep in (preaching to myself now.). Cultivates gratitude and a fresh understanding of the grace that determines where we’re born and how we grow up.
It also makes me zealous and jealous for nations so desperate they’ll let people like us, with a message of hope and transformation, come right on in to their military academy and morning police force meeting downtown.
Here we are, simple little us, telling the story of Hope and Truth that can set a prisoner free. No one is picketing outside against our message, they’re just so grateful someone cares enough to come.
Yes there is crime and danger in Honduras. It’s the most dangerous of the Central America nations. But it’s also hungry, not for modernism and American privilege, as much as a real chance at real life and that more abundant, something most of us take for granted every day.
Checking in at the airport enroute for home yesterday, Ron caught my eyes and asked, “Are you alright?” I was tearing up, feeling God’s heart that longs for these beautiful men and women as much as anyone longs for their child to have, be, and do.
We went to help and came home helped. Helped and changed. Changed and charged, to live beyond our comfort, all for the Cause, a Cause meant for all.