Last month I arrived in Honduras on a travel high, unsure about the ministry we were partnered with or how to even pronounce the capital city correctly (Tegucigalpa). My team split from the group and took a 7 hour bus ride to Santa Rosa de Copan, a city in northwestern Honduras, near the border of Guatemala. It sits in a mountainous region and has some of the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets I have ever seen. Known to some as “coffee country” I was delighted to get to taste beans directly from the nearby plantations.
The ministry we partnered with was “Legacy of Hope Foundation”.
The foundations mission statement is: “to help children heal and eventually achieve permanency in a safe and healthy family setting. They firmly believe that these goals can only be accomplished by establishing education and foster programs, rooted in the local church. They are continually working at the local and national level to develop standards and resources to educate and train prospective foster families and others working in the area of foster care. Their vision for the future is to continue to grow as an organic network of foster families, raised up through local churches.” https://legacyofhopefoundation.org/ (check out their foundation here)
They immediately treated us like family, inviting us into their home with their kids, every single night for dinner. Marianne’s cooking was unbelievably amazing. I expected to lose weight on the race but that was before I realized how well our hosts care for us, and how cheap & readily available “chicky’s” are. The good news is we got a workout in every day chasing the kids around.
The first half of the month I worked with a girl on my team (Vanessa) to clean the homes of the full time foster moms in both the transitional home and the “centro”. We also got to babysit the kids for them so they could have some off time. We basically did everything would could to make their lives easier, whether that be dishes, laundry, playing outside, etc. The transitional home is where they have children live full time if they have more permanent cases. While the “centro” is where they receive children for emergency placements. Due to the organization’s structure for sensitivity, Vanessa and I were the only ones allowed to interact with these children in their homes for the month because the consistency is important in the lives of children that have experienced trauma.
Working in both of these homes brought me so much joy — interacting with the workers and the kids every day was my highlight. They were more than happy to help us overcome the language barrier and taught me so much about choosing joy in impossible situations. We had such an amazing time building relationships with the kids and the foster moms — I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to have to leave them. Let alone how hard it was going to be to get a baby into crisis care only to have her leave 5 days later with DINAF. (I’ve changed her name to *miracle* for the purpose of this blog due to the sensitivity in her foster case) *Miracle* was exactly that, a miracle. At 3 months old she was one of the most beautiful babies I’d ever seen. Hearing about her case, and how she got to LOH was difficult but also such a testimony to God’s grace and hand of mercy in her life.
The first day they asked me to hold her, I was unable to calm down her crying but eventually took her to a quiet room and sang Hallelujah to her, over and over again until she fell asleep onto my chest. It was such a surreal moment to hold a life in your arms and be able to fully and completely love her although I’d only been with her for a few hours. I looked forward to holding that miracle every single day and singing over her. I’m not sure what it was about her but she changed my life. I never expected DINAF (The Honduran Family Service’s) to show up 6 days later & take her to some of her family they had located. I went from singing with her that afternoon, to walking with her to a government vehicle, to handing her off to a social worker — within a matter of minutes. I think it was the very first time I have ever felt completely overcome by grief and a broken heart.
I was upset that I wasn’t able to hold her everyday and make sure she was okay — but I was mostly upset that nobody could tell me where she was going, who would be taking care of her and if she would be in good hands. I’ve heard over and over in my life to trust God and his plans for me but I have never had to actively choose to trust Him with someone else’s life. A life that was too young to take care of herself. I was frustrated. I was angry. I actively had to fight back tears the next few hours so that I could complete my ministry tasks for the day.
I knew it would be hard to leave the kids at the end of the month, but I never expected that some of them would leave me. I took it to God, first with grief, then with anger. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t just trust that she would be okay. Trusting God just seemed like a cliche people said so that I wouldn’t have to think about it the future anymore. That night, I stayed up working it out with the Lord, questioning him and demanding answers. Finally, He said to me, “What makes you think she would have been in better hands with you then she is with me?”
That wasn’t really the answer I was looking for — in fact, it challenged me basically to my very core. I had to ask myself a lot of questions after that. I found that I trust God in my life, but when it comes to the people I love — I do everything I can, in my power first, to protect them. Once I fall short, then I ask God for help, instead of the other way around. I always have this desire to control the things that I can because I can predict the outcome — trusting in the character and promises of the Father isn’t my first instinct. It’s hard to come to terms with the fact that we have little to no control over the lives of the people we love. We want to protect them, to keep them from harm, to keep them from hurt, to take away all of their pain and make it our own. For me, this desire for control boiled down to a lack of trust in the Fathers promises and in His faithfulness. So, He called that out in me.
I’d be lying if I said that was just a lesson I needed to learn only once. I know that this is something I will struggle with the entire race. Encountering new kids, new ministries, and new locations every month and then having to leave 4 weeks later is going to be a massive challenge for me. I am learning what it looks like to give everything I have to the Lord first — knowing that He is good and He is faithful. God has me where he wants me. He knows exactly how long he wants me there and who he wants me to impact. I don’t need to control it or manipulate it, I just need to say “yes”. Because at the end of the day, I’m not going to be anyone’s savior, Jesus is — and I get to choose to show Him through my actions and the way I love on every person I encounter.
It was a hard lesson but an amazing one that I get to carry these next 9.5 months. And all I can say is I am so grateful to serve a God that is good and kind and loving. And I am looking forward to passing His goodness, His kindness and His love to others all over the world. Please join me in prayer this week for *miracle* and the other foster children, and ministry workers in Honduras!
Matthew 22:37-40 says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Best,
Alivya
