Come with me on a journey….
It's Saturday. We're headed out to the dump in Tegucigalpa. The one place where trash and treasure can be found right next to each other. People are searching through piles of garbage in hopes to find a small something to eat, or a little something to sell. Huge birds circle over the heaps of moldy food, cardboard, plastic, and glass. Cows roam around through the mounds, looking for something to munch on. But the thing that completely blows my mind; the thing I can't wrap my brain around… there are people who have been living here their whole lives. Digging through the piles of left-overs that others haven't finished. Seeking some small treasure to sell in hopes of being able to buy a small meal. And in all of their struggle, and in all of the garbage of life, they still have faith. A faith that I wish I had.
While talking with some of the people (attempting to talk- I don't know Spanish), I saw a group of World Racers dancing. I finished up the conversation and headed over to the "party". Threw in a few moves here and there (the Jerk, the Spongebob, and the Beanz) and then went on my way. Little did I know that some of the residents of the dump yard had seen me. This is where my day began.
I never though I would have a dance-off with dumpster divers. Not only was there dancing, but there were smiles and laughter all throughout the circle. So much joy and peace. And the thing that really threw me was the humility of all the divers. We brought enough spaghetti to feed over 100 people, and tortillas to do the same. When we took the extra tortillas to the people who had already eaten, to see if they wanted some more, they all said "no" and would point to someone else. Then that person would say "no" and point to someone else. These are people who don't constantly get three meals a day, and yet they are willing to sacrifice more than most.
My eyes have been opened. My heart has been wrecked. My mind has been boggled. My body has been exhausted. But through all of this, there is a constant— and it's not that I am dirty and haven't showered. No, my constant is the Lord and his faithfulness. Even though we have gone to the most dangerous parts of Tegucigalpa and surrounding areas, we have been more than safe. We have been guarded by an army of angels. The army of the imortal. And for that, I am thankful.
Honduras has been an amazing experience. I have laughed; I have cried; I have gotten beaten up by ministry and bruised; I have bled my own blood, and seen other people's blood; I participated in an eating contest and I danced with dumpster divers. I will never forget my time here, but now it's time to pack up and go. Until next time…
Here We Go!!
