Honduras was a beautiful surprise.
I spent my days in the sun, digging trenches for a fence. I spent my nights helping lead worship at two churches and laughing like crazy with my entire squad.
It was not glamorous. It didn’t always feel like I was impacting someone. There was sunburn, sore muscles and seemingly endless stretches of land that needed to be worked.
Mostly, though, it was fun. I’m learning that ministry isn’t always going to be exciting or something I’m eager to share about. God is changing my heart and the way I see things, though. Where before I would be inclined to question, He’s showing me there’s so much more if I just look to Him.
I looked into a lot of eyes last month; Honduran and American. Pain and joy reflected in all of them. Pain and joy do not discriminate based on where you lay your head at night, or where you were born. We’re all the same. Our blood runs red the same. We all hurt. We all laugh.
Throughout the month we were told stories of children being sold for their organs, children being sold by their parents into prostitution, women and girls being raped by their fathers, uncles, neighbors and strangers, and neighbors killing each other over petty quarrels. People, who should love each other and fight for each other the most, wreak havoc on each other’s lives instead. No one feels safe and there is so much brokenness.
I asked myself countless times, how can this be? How can I even begin to imagine helping? Going into the Race I knew I would come in contact with a lot of hurt that I wouldn’t be able to do anything about in my own power. This was the first time I encountered it thus far. I wanted to wrap abandoned babies in my arms and take them away. I wanted to dry the tears of girls wrecked by the twisted desires of men in their lives. I wanted to do something, anything for the people so badly hurting. I couldn’t, though. I don’t have endless resources or infinite time.
The big light bulb of this month for me was this: God fights for His babies, and He uses His bride to do it. For every child that is left unreached, God is exposing warriors to their harsh reality and raising up a new generation of caretakers for the broken. For every tear shed, God has a jar He collects them in. For every dollar missing in the account of a World Racer, God has each penny numbered and ready to be poured out.
There is no pain unseen by the Father. When I can’t understand, He does. When I’m unsure, He is unwavering. When there is nothing I can physically do, He is aware and eager to bring glory to His name.
When you think there’s no where to turn, or that the tank is empty and you have nothing left to give, or when you’re standing before an ocean with no way to cross it, God has more in store. It’s the moments where we think there’s nothing left that God is magnified exponentially. It’s when you find God in the seemingly ordinary days that life becomes transformed. There’s a Ben Rector song that says, life is not the mountaintop, it’s the walking in between. There is so much more to be seen in the in between. Every day is unique and incredible in it’s own way.
Exodus 14:13a, 14, 21a: “And Moses said to the people, ‘Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today…The Lord will fight for you, and you only have to be silent.’ Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and the Lord drove the sea back…”
Stand back and trust Him with the world He created. You’ll be beautifully surprised.
