I vaguely felt sweat easing its way across my forehead as the van halted to a stop. I couldn’t remember where I was or why I was laying haphazardly on the floor of a minivan with 10 other people. Someone said something about food and how it was now or never. Someone else mentioned we wouldn’t be eating for the next 10 hours so I pulled myself out of the self-induced coma I was in and meandered into the restaurant. I collapsed at the table and tried to form words about my trip so far but none really came out or made sense. I gave up and opted instead to stare strangely into space and listen in on other conversations. My squad leader, Seth, told us a great story about a guy and a green sweater and I laughed so hard I thought I would throw up. Then I ate pancakes and ice cream at 8:43 in the morning and got back on the bus.
I fell back asleep as the first layer of sweat securely dried into my skin. Different parts of my back, feet and face awkwardly tingled as blood circulation was cut off and I think at one point I woke up from a dream panicked as to where I was. Clawing at my purse and desperately trying to get air from underneath the van seats was interesting. I split a Whopper four ways later that night because someone had an extra sandwich and it was the best thing I have ever eaten. I don’t prefer sharing food or drinks- but over the past few weeks, as I continue to live in community, I’ve learned that sharing is a necessity. Besides, if I’m willing to forgo showers for 8 days straight, I need to get over myself and share the dern food.
Around midnight, we found the woman with the blue skirt and red top who said she’d be on the side of the road to wave us down and direct us to her home. Normal. She was the contact we were staying with for the night. We asked the Lord to provide a place for us to sleep. And He did. I still don’t know all the details of how this was worked out but I think I got out of the van, blew up my air mattress like a robot and passed out before I was fully in my sleeping bag. The next morning, my flat air mattress and sweaty self woke up and I ate a breakfast of eggs, plantains and dried bananas. Food, finally. We were all thrilled. On a side note, it was totally awesome we even got to eat. No stores were open but my leader, Moriah, asked Jesus to please just provide and minutes later, a store clerk opened his store early for us!
We took a ferry to get to our ministry site early this morning. We arrived to a jungle like compound, complete with our very own tree house-ish lodging. All five girls are sleeping in a bunk room with a fan and bathroom that has a real toilet seat. The ants and scorpions are added touches. The staff provided some toiletries that were little hugs from God and the cold showers literally felt like rushes of adrenaline. I thought I would miss hot water, but I don’t. At all.
After lunch of rice and beans (except I had rice and almonds because I’m the strange Gringo allergic to garlic) we took naps because it’s our day off and none of us were at functioning capacity from our 17 hour bus ride the day before. We ate again at five and signed off on the camp rules and had some team time. Can I just tell you how I’m pumped about what God has in store this month? Like for real. I came in with expectations and He dashed those within 4 minutes of arrival so I feel pretty content watching Him do work. I’m laying in my bed and laughing at this thing called life. Who’d a thunk I’d be in Honduras on October 7, 2012? I sure didn’t. I also used to not give God credit for rocking our worlds and loving us more than anything in the entire world.
He’s writing a new song on the creases of our hearts. He is redefining levels of greatness and increasing the authority we walk in. He’s sending waves of peace over this army. He’s calling out gifts and pushing us into realms of spiritual authority that is both incredible and beautiful. We have been pushed, pulled and strained and yet we are safe. We are His Beloved. He yearns for us. No weapon formed against us will prosper. We intercede for each other and we sit at the foot of the cross that bore all our sins. The perfect picture of redemptive love and a cause worth fighting for. We are worth it. We are fought for. He is the Bread and Water our souls long for and He satisfies. He defies logic and reason as He unleashes freedom that has no boundary. No limit. Joy is ours for the taking. The song written on my heart is one of joyful noise to a Maker who loved me first. No matter where I am, what I’m doing, saying or breathing, I’m choosing joy. I’m choosing in.
