All we knew entering this month in Honduras was our main contact’s name, Victor, his cell phone number, and his assurance in an email—that the people were excited for us to come, and that we would be going to prisons and preaching to farmhouse fences…farmhouse fences? Yup, our first legitimate experience of a failed Google translation.
Thankfully, we are not preaching to farmhouse fences (although we might be able to preach to just about anybody or anything if we had that experience under our belts). I wouldn’t say were doing any preaching, really, as no one speaks English and our collective Spanish is pretty scattered. Bring on 2 Corinthians 12:9 for this month…
We are living right outside of a small town named San Juan, population roughly 250, stretched out on thin mattresses in a room behind one of the local churches. And our days consist of doing whatever we can for the church, whenever they call us to it. We’ve traveled around to a number of homes in the community, laughing with them and our hosts, crying with them as they tell stories we can all piece together slowly.
For me, it has been a powerful lesson of living in the present, and that I do not have to be doing something overtly exceptional to feel alive. I actually feel more alive in this moment than I have felt in many moments when I thought my days were accomplishing much more. There is an exceptional freedom in that.
I’ve realized that many of the “living the dream moments” in life come when we live fully in some of the more seemingly mundane parts of our days. I am learning much more what it means to see the beauty and wonder of God in these times, and in my insufficiency to make a calculable improvement in this community. There is value in simply being in this community, living with them, sharing meals with them, giving more than we are taking…not using knowledge and competence to cover feelings of inadequacy. These moments are not so normal or mundane.
*this internet is not good enough for pics right now…hopefully next week
