As of about noon today, I've been in Honduras for 2 weeks. I'll be here for another 10 days before returning to Dallas for a 3 day debriefing with the other interns here. Time flies, as it always does. I've been busy since I last wrote, but I haven't found an opportune time to update. I don't really remember what I've done day by day, but I do have some great stories/pictures.
So yesterday Kevin and I went down to help construct a wall around one of the borders of the seminary. This is actually the 3rd time we've worked down there, but this time I remembered to take pictures. Here are a few...
Its basically the same picture, but whatever haha. Our co-workers include Harrison, the guy in the orange hat, who is one of my favorite guys down here fasho, a guy named Joel, who doesn't talk much, even in Spanish, and 2 other guys whose names I honestly just don't remember. Harrison and I realized the phenomenon of people who speak Spanish sounding very fast exists the same way for him and other Hondurans when they hear us speaking English. Who would've thought? I always enjoy working them. We always work at a leisurely pace, but they are hard workers. One of the missionaries, I don't remember who, down here told me "Never let someone fool you into thinking Hondurans are lazy. They may seem lazy because they don't uphold to our standards of punctuality, but that's just because relationships matter all the more."
The day before yesterday and today Kevin and I had the opportunity to venture into the mountains to help build roofs over some family's pilas. A pila is basically a water storage container so all of the water they use via pipe doesn't just run off as waste. I LOVED working up in the mountains. Its not only a mountain, its a jungle too. It rains just about every afternoon here, so anything that isn't one of the various colorful flowers is a vibrant, beautiful green. Pictures don't always capture what your own eyes can, but I'll share anyway...
Anyway... so up about 15 minutes in the mountain is a church with a pastor named Pastor Chavelito (idk if I spelled it right). His father's name is Chave and lito is like saying Chave Junior, hence: Chavelito. His name is fun to say fast. So one of the ways he outreaches to people is by going to the houses of families who live in the mountains, building relationships with them, and then taking the next step to help them out in meeting various needs. Often times its putting a working roof on a house, providing a cement floor, helping them build a pila, and I'm sure other various things. All of this to show the people the love of Jesus. Its pretty cool, much different than a pizza party or something. Anyway, so we helped 2 different families out. The first family, we helped 2 days ago. We hardly did anything, as there were 3 brothers who were well over their 40's and looked almost like triplets who did just about everything. Another guy, the nephew of Pastor Chavelito, named Lester helped us out, who is also one of my favorite friends down here. He lived in the states for 3 years, apparently many Hondurans do at one point or another, and speaks pretty good English. It works out well because I still get to practice with him and the family and he can explain why they are laughing at me. Anyway they did most of the work. I felt pretty useless, which caused me some distress, but I watched and learned well enough to do the same exact thing without them AND got to meet God in the hardness of that situation. I'll expound more on that later... Here's some pictures.
First we had to dig holes around the pila (that concrete thing in the middle). I had just finished venturing into the woods with Pastor Chavelito to chop down some trees with a machete to use as posts right before I took this picture. It was awesome.
Next we pot the posts in.
Then we put the roof on.
More roof
Finished product with (from left to right) Lester, Kevin, some guy who hopped in the picture but didn't help and I don't know his name, and the 3 brothers whose names I forgot as well.
Today was similar, but a new adventure in itself. Kevin and I were charged with the responsibility of driving into town, buying some supplies from a local hardware store, driving up the mountain, and building the remaining roof ALL BY OURSELVES. It was fun. I got to drive, which I loved because Hondurans are generally crazy drivers and I enjoyed the challenge. But I'll be perfectly honest, Kevin and I stopped at the gate and invited Jesus into the car before we hit the road. I was definitely feeling the nerves haha, but that definitely helped. The spirit of adventure was upon us! Here's an unexciting picture of me driving...
10 and 2 fasho. Or maybe 1 and 11, whatever.
Anyway, so we got up to the mountain and with the help of Lester and the patriarch of the family we built the second techo (roof) over the pila. I liked today a bit more, because the family was out and about and chatting with us and we got to practice spanish and enjoy their company. The mother made us coffee from coffee plants they grow at their own house and some bread that I think may or may or not have been bought somewhere else. Were it for the reason it came from a generous heart or just because it was straight from the earth I don't know, regardless it was some of the best coffee I've ever had. Here's some pictures...
A picture of the daughter(7 years old) and son(6). She was quite the talkative little girl, and she knew how to use a machete with more profession than I have (which is not saying a whole lot, but still she is a 7 year old little girl).
A picture of the family's humble abode. The pila is what is what is under construction, and their kitchen is right behind it.
Their kitchen. At the bottom left hand corner you can see their stove. To the right is what they use to grind up corn to make tortillas.
Me digging a hole. I was gig'em'd out.
Chopping wood with the machete. Aw yea
Sporting the finished project with the head of the household and Lester in the background.
Me with the backdrop of the jungle mountain. It was a great adventure.
Now for the reason I'm here... God has opened my eyes since I last wrote. Its a long story, with a lot of stuff I still don't understand, and the story is just leaving the launchpad. However, I will do my best to relate it. Soon after I last wrote of the fear of failure, I realized the situation I stuck to required no faith at all. If I never tried, I never had the opportunity to meet God either in the failure or the success. I was waiting to know for sure that I wouldn't fail before I ever left my comfort to try, but that's just not how it works. Simba had no idea whether or not he could reclaim Pride Rock, but he tried. Aragorn had no idea whether or not he had it in him to take the throne of Gondor, to lead a nation of scattered men against the world's most terrible evil, but he tried. I doubted whether or not God would catch me. In failure, God waits for us. In the confusing allure and unfulfillment of any victory on earth, God waits for us. But I wasn't going to meet Him sitting on the sidelines. With this in mind, I started to see how desperately my heart desired, how deeply, and how painfully in victory or in failure. I would say something funny and people would like me, but I'd still not be satisfied. I'd say something and not receive the response I was looking for and would obviously not be satisfied. I realized how much of a people pleaser I am, how I use who I am to get people to like me and avoid anything that could possibly come between another person and I getting along. I'd tell little lies without thinking about it(and still do to a degree) and look back disgustedly upon realizing my actions. I'd play a game like H-O-R-S-E and lose, and realize how hard failure was for me. I realized how much of my worth I stole from the world based on things such as being good at something, whether that be Halo, basketball, or playing the drums. I still enjoy them, but I'm not fully free as I'm always trying to squeeze some bit of worth out of it. I realized how much of my worth I stole out of who and how much people like me. Again, not free to be myself because of always scrambling and struggling to be the perfect person. I started to see how all of my worth was derived from the world. Amidst these realizations and more, I was greatly distressed. I've always sought my comfort in the world and the lion was not far around the corner. As soon as despair, anguish, hopelessness, and frustration come, I've always let it consume me. It takes hold of me and I stay convinced those feelings are just the way things are, and the condition they bring me to is just the sickness of life. I lose hope. I have no faith. I despair. Often times, the reasons for despair isn't any reason to actually fret over it all, but I believe the lie whispered into my ear that it is. Amidst all of this, God has spoken to me in many ways but in two significantly. I've been reading a book recommended to me by a good friend called "A Severe Mercy". It holds by far the most depth in a book I've ever read. Long story short, its about the true story of a man and his wife, their meeting, their love, their marriage, their conversion to Christianity, their new life as a Christian, and his wife's death a few years after. Many things he has written in his book God has spoken to me through. In two ways very significantly. Upon his conversion he wrote a letter to C.S. Lewis (another reason I like the book because he chats frequently with Lewis and published their correspondence/conversations):
"I choose to believe in the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost-in Christ, my lord and my God. Christianity has the ring, the feel, of unique truth. Of essential truth. By it, life is made full instead of empty; meaningful instead of meaningless. Cosmos becomes beautiful at the
Centre,
instead of chillingly ugly beneath the lovely pathos of spring. But the emptiness, the meaninglessness, and the ugliness can only be seen, I think, when one has glimpsed the fullness, the meaning, and the beauty. It is when heaven and hell have both been glimpsed that going back is impossible. But to go on seemed impossible, also. A glimpse is not a vision. A choice was necessary: and there is no certainty. One can only choose a side. So I-I now choose my side: I choose beauty; I choose what I love. But choosing to believe
is believing. Its all I can do: choose. I confess my doubts and ask my Lord Christ to enter my life. I do not know God is, I do but say: Be it unto me according to Thy will. I do not affirm that I am without doubt, I do but ask for help, having chosen, to overcome it. I do but say: Lord, I believe- help Thou mine unbelief"
This spoke to me deeply. I have to choose to believe. I have to choose to trust in God's goodness. I have to choose to believe in the fact God is always considering my greater good, whether that be by pain or joy. It is always good. For the first time I looked up into heaven and said "Father, tonight, I choose to believe in your goodness." I choose to reject the lies of total hopelessness, despite their strength. There is reason for hope. Another line from
A Severe Mercy hit me deeply: "Goodness and love are as real as their terrible opposites, and, in truth, far more real, though I say this mindful of the enormous evils like Nazi Germany. But love is the final reality, and anyone who does not understand this, be he writer or sage, is a man flawed in wisdom." The quote on its on sounds a bit like Rob Bell, but he is speaking of a life reality attached to Jesus. "Love is the final reality" hit me hard as well.
Apart from this, I've had a verse from the Psalms running through my mind:
"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD In the land of the living."- Psalm 27:13
And on a third note, I've been greatly impacted by the simple faith of the Honduran Christians. They live so day to day. The church I went to last Sunday had 4 or 5 adults as members. The pastor doesn't get paid, so he has to moonlight other jobs. Many of the Christians here have very little, but they trust that day to day God will care and provide for their needs. That's all they do: trust Him. Despite the circumstance, they trust.
At the moment, the pain and confusion has not been met with the embrace of Jesus. Its still there. In fact most of today I sat in a lot of pain that I'm honestly not really sure where it came from. I suppose any being who has been ripped away from his Creator experiences pain when allowed to stop numbing it. I don't really know though. I do know I will see His goodness in the land of the living. I say "Thy will Father!" At the least, faith is the path by which I will travel to find the healing and joy I desire. And don't mistake me, I'm not depressed and staring at the ground all day. I am immensely enjoying my time here and life in general. It is a battle, but a battle with Hope is one I can endure.
On a lighter note, the puppy basset hound living here just stumbled up to me and ate the cookies lying next to me.
Friday Kevin and I are going to Tegucigalpa to visit the other interns who are staying at an orphanage and a bi-lingual school. I won't have internet until Sunday or Monday, but I think I'll survive. Tegucigalpa is a much different town than Siguatepeque, so it will be entertaining. We also may get to go see a movie. And holy crap 8 days, 1 hour, 38 minutes, 38 seconds away until HP7 part 2 is out. Its on my list of things to do upon arrival to the Estados Unidos. I'll return for sure at least one more time to write in my time here, possibly more.
My laptop is about to die, so I'm off to read or play ping pong or something.
Buenas Noches!
