Finding My Place



Building a house for a lady from our church, Elena, (she is the one digging)



One of my Danish "children," Michael, doing what he does best--carpentry work!



My other Danish "child," Mathias carrying wood for the house

 

The little girl on the left, Any Yalickza, is my first little sponsor girl who has grown up so much since I started sponsoring her in 2007





I don't have a camera, and Leigh-Ann doesn't take pictures, so I'm pretty sure that this is the only picture taken of us the whole time she was here. All of these pictures are courtesy of a team member from Rawlinson Road Church



We visited the new mommies and babies at Hospital Escuela



My little buddy at the government-run orphanage, Casitas Kennedy


Hello All,
May has been one of my busiest months here, and it will culminate with a much-anticipated flight back to the US for a month-long visit. Since the last time I updated, we have had three teams here back-to-back, and I also had my first personal visitor, Leigh-Ann Robinson. As I write this, Alvin and Nelly have recently left for the US and will be leaving there within six days to visit Denmark. They won’t return to Honduras until June 11. I myself will be leaving on May 30 and won’t return to Honduras until June 30.

Yuscarán

As you may remember from updates in September, my very first month here, there is a couple from our church, Nati and Martha, who run a consistent ministry in a small town called Yuscarán south of Tegucigalpa. They go to Yuscarán every 15 days to bring blessings of food and other needed items and to have an outdoor church service in the surrounding mountain neighborhood called Aceituno. Martha also travels an hour and a half by bus every week to Yuscarán to lead a small group meeting. Nati and Martha’s ministry so blesses me because they are Hondurans helping their own people. They are sacrificing of their own personal finances and time to reach what we call in Spanish, un campo blanco—a place that could be considered unreached with the Gospel since there are no churches, missionaries, or evangelism there. Nati and Martha have three of their own sons and run two businesses, yet they still find the time to immerse themselves in giving to these people who are so hungry for more of Jesus. This wonderful couple sets such an amazing example because if they can do what they do in Honduras, there is no reason that anyone in the US couldn’t do the same. This family has always been very special to me since I moved here because they are so humble and faithful. Since I moved here, I have treasured how welcoming and friendly each member of their family is with me, and I find it so easy to feel at home with them. Thus, I was happy although rather shy to receive an invitation from Hermana Martha to travel with her to Yuscarán for the small group meeting and to share with the people there. I was rather hesitant to share because I am not one who likes to show up to a new place like I’m worth listening to or have all of the answers. However, I am ultimately here to serve in any way God opens the doors, so I agreed. As always, I feel as if I learned from them far more than they learned from me. It warmed and stirred my soul to see a visible hunger for more of God on their faces as they worshiped. That kind of desperation for the only One who matters is so rare. Yet, in the midst of poverty and hunger and quiet desolation, it is the only answer they have. God’s the only answer any of us have, really. It is just that those of us who have more distractions or more worldly “options” don’t often recognize this truth.

After that Thursday, I also went the following Sunday with the family and another family who also goes every 15 days to Yuscarán. I loved it. We shampooed the children’s hair for lice, provided a meal, and gave some provisions to the families of Aceituno. I think what I loved most was seeing how invested the believers in Yuscarán in this ministry to Aceituno. While Nati and Martha and Hermano Tomás lead the ministry, the ladies and other believers in Yuscarán are such willing servants. They made the food to take to Aceituno, and they accompany Nati and Martha during the church service in Aceituno. They collaborate so closely and are so eager to give even though many of them are also hurting in the same ways from the effects of unemployment and limited resources. Although we have been very busy with teams, and I won’t be in Honduras for a month, I hope to be more of a part of this ministry when I return because the people of Yuscarán and Aceituno have stolen a special place in my heart.

Time with Leigh-Ann

When I returned from Nicaragua, my Danish boys went to Costa Rica, and Mami Nelly went to Nicaragua. My life here is pretty simple, and when even just a few people aren’t present, it changes everything. I spend a lot of time with my Danish “children” going to the boys center, 21 de Octubre, and just hanging out in the evenings. When Papi doesn’t have anything for me to do during the days (other than simple things like recording receipts, checking e-mail, and the like), I am often home with Mami Nelly. Thus, with the absence of those three people, I felt very alone. I can say that hands-down, the greatest struggle of moving here and transitioning has been loneliness. Thus, I was overjoyed to have my very first visitor for two weeks, Leigh-Ann. Those of you who have been reading this blog for a long time may remember that she was my roommate while I was studying at language school in Mexico. She and I get along so well, and it was such a wonderful blessing that she chose to spend her money and time to visit me. I was so proud of her bravery to take part in every facet of my everyday life—riding the bus to get groceries, visiting Raúl at the business, riding on motor bikes with the boys to go to the boys center, celebrating Mother’s Day with Raúl’s family, eating catracho food at street vendors’, translating for teams, doing street ministry, building houses, and visiting the new mothers at the hospital. She was so eagerly accepted by my Honduran second family, and we’re still talking about how we miss her. What I miss the most is having someone to share my home with and to laugh with me and at me on a regular basis. Leigh-Ann is very special to me, and she will always have a warm welcome here. I look forward to many more visitors in the future as well. If you are willing to sleep, eat, and live like I do, my door is always open.

Quendy

While I don’t see many of the other girls who lived with me at the Eagle’s Nest, I do see Quendy pretty often. As I write this, she is sitting with me in my living room sewing her jeans. She lives nearby with her second “marido” or live-together boyfriend, and she is pregnant. We don’t know (and I’m not really sure if she knows or not) who the father is. She often shows up at Raúl’s business because she is hungry, and he always gives her whatever he has to eat and provides a safe place for her to spend her days. Her boyfriend is often not home, and I’m not really sure of his age or how he treats her. She has also started visiting me more often for some breakfast, to wash clothes, etc. Her willingness to still visit especially when she is in need is evidence to me that at the very least, a seed was planted that we do love her. If she didn’t know that we love her, she wouldn’t come here, but she does, and she occasionally shows up at the church as well. God isn’t done with Quendy. While her life may not look like what we had hoped for her, God is in control. Just this morning, she told me that she had a dream last night that she was back in the Eagle’s Nest and that Papi Alvin was giving her advice about current life situations, and she awoke disappointed to find where she really was. God has His own ways of bringing His children into His arms. Please pray for Quendy and her unborn child. She is still such a child who will be raising a child, and right now, she isn’t sure she is willing to do that. Please also pray that God will give Raúl and me the words to say to counsel her, encourage her, and show her God’s love.

Birthdays to Celebrate

Speaking of Raúl, he has a birthday coming up (as do I)! He will turn 24 on May 24th, and I will turn 23 on May 26th. While it is partially because sometimes I have so much time on my hands, I have been excited for his birthday for a while. He has been my most faithful friend since I moved here, and when I think of being in the US for a month, other than Alvin and Nelly, he is the person I know I will miss the most. While it isn’t often that we have the time to sit down and have a real conversation, every time we do, I am encouraged and surprised to find just how much his life and his struggles mirror my own at this time. While I feel like we’re both rather broken people in need of more of God’s love and restoration, it is a comfort to me to know that at least I am not alone. It is difficult for Raúl and me to protect ourselves or to see ourselves the way that God sees us. But, we both eagerly protect each other, serve each other, and see the potential God has in each other which I think gives us both a little hope. I am looking forward to celebrating both of our birthdays (my second one spent here in Honduras) before heading back to the US.

The Hope for Restoration

While I likely never thought that this would be the case, I am so looking forward to my trip to the US—I’m even counting down the days! It’s not so much that I miss the US because what I miss isn’t the culture or convenience. It is just the people—my friends, my family, and my overall sense of being surrounded by love and acceptance. The thought of being able to hug my dad fills me with joy and tears because I feel so in need of the physical security of his love. It is difficult for me to admit it mainly because I feel as if I don’t “do” anything that taxing that should cause me to require a break, but the truth is that I am so in need of spiritual rest and restoration. The other day I was standing in church during praise and worship, and I was so overwhelmed by an unspeakable exhaustion that took my breath away. It is an exhaustion that can’t be removed by any number of deep sighs and runs so deep that it doesn’t matter how many hours I sleep because it’s spiritual. Exhaustion like this scares me because it makes me feel as if complacency is looming and that pressing onward in my walk with Christ is like running on a treadmill and going nowhere. Thus, I know that once again, God is calling me away with Him—out of my element and routine into newness. I so desire God’s newness.
The other day when Alvin and Nelly left, he unexpectedly made me cry while he was telling me goodbye. He is undoubtedly my second dad, and I love him more than I can express, but it isn’t often that I get emotional over his traveling. But, all of my life, I’ve been one to guard emotion and absorb pain to the point that I become a glass house. I can appear (even to myself) that I am completely strong and standing on my own well, but all anyone has to do is break the glass, and I fall apart. When I was younger, all my dad would have to do when I was upset was lay a hand on my shoulder, and I lost it. Alvin just said a simple, “I love you. Thank you so much for being with me here in Honduras and for being a good example.” That kindness broke my glass house in a way I wasn’t expecting.
During the week in April when I was going to share with the small group in Yuscarán, I was again dwelling in Hebrews and the idea of God’s rest. I was researching this idea of Biblical, godly rest, and I was excited to find a reoccurring phrase of “in his place,” “in their place,” etc. In Exodus 16, it talks about the Israelites resting instead of gathering manna on the Sabbath, and it says, “See, the Lord has given you the Sabbath; therefore He gives you on the sixth day the bread for two days; let every man remain in his place; let no man leave his place on the seventh day.” In 1 Samuel 3, when Samuel first hears from God, it says, “So Eli said to Samuel, Go, lie down. And if He calls you, you shall say, Speak, Lord, for Your servant is listening. So Samuel went and lay down in his place.” In 2 Chronicles 34, Josiah also provides an example of our place when it says, “Then the king stood in his place and made a covenant before the Lord—to walk after the Lord and to keep His commandments, His testimonies, and His statutes with all his heart and with all his soul, to perform in the words of the covenant that are written in this book.”

I often find myself consciously or unconsciously asking God, “Where is my place?” For the months that I’ve lived here, I have felt like I’m falling off of a bed. I know that I was obedient in moving here. I know that God sent me here to be a servant and to be the least of these. Yet, I still feel as if I am waiting for something. I have left the comfort of my mattress, pillow, and blankets, but I feel as if I am in mid-air, knowing I will hit the ground at some point, but I just don’t know when. At this point of exhaustion, I sometimes just find myself even asking God, “What am I even waiting for at this point?” Living in this place that I love and having the opportunity to be surrounded by the people who I love is a blessing that overwhelms me with gratitude on a regular basis. Honestly, it’s a gift that I feel I don’t deserve. But, being without many friends, without my own family, and without a “clear-defined” personal ministry, sometimes, I feel so lost. That sense of being lost and lacking a purpose gets heightened by loneliness and by the all-too-familiar questions from teams of, “What is it that you do?” and “What is your role?” It has taken me a long time to accept Alvin’s love and generosity in allowing me to live here. I often don't feel like I’m worth it or that I’m doing enough to “earn my keep.” Without his generosity, I really doubt that I could afford to be here. I have offered numerous times to pay some form of rent, but he won’t let me. Thus, that soft spot of feeling unworthy gets further wounded when teams ask me, “What do you have to pay Alvin in rent?” “Are you earning your rent?” Their questions, tones of voice, etc. often make me feel as if they suspect I am taking advantage of Alvin financially, and while I understand their desire to protect him because he is so well-loved, it crushes me—someone who used to be such an overachiever, workaholic, ultra-independent person. And, as I head back to the US, the question from other missionaries here (not Alvin) is often, “Are you going to go drum up support?” God made it so clear before I left (through Corrie ten Boom’s example and book, Tramp for the Lord) that I was not to “drum up” my own support that I have to answer that no, that’s not my intention in this trip. God always provides. The response is usually, “Wow. You’re so lucky. So you have your own support then? Do your parents pay for you to be here?”

I am learning that finding my place means that I have to accept God’s place. He is the One who provides. He is the One who does the work. He is the One who loves me not for what I do or what my role is in the ministry. He is the One who identifies me not by how well I’m earning my keep but by the simple truth that I am His daughter. As is always the case, this love of God hurts a little bit (sometimes to the point that we would rather run than feel it) because like a fire, it sears through our fears that we’re not worth anything and burns up our doubts that God’s wants to give us His best. It is a love that doesn’t tolerate the lie we might want to tell ourselves that we’re in control or that we can somehow earn God’s approval. In April, I was in church during worship, crying and asking God, “Where is my place?” And He gave me the image of His throne room. We were alone in this empty room of His glory, and I wanted to enter timidly with my eyes looking at the ground and my shoulders hunched. But, He told me that I must enter like a daughter and with the innocence of a child. He brought me close to Him to sit on His lap and place my head above His heart and said, “This is your place.” And it is just as it says in Hebrews 4:16, “Let us then fearlessly and confidently and boldly draw near to the throne of grace (the throne of God’s unmerited favor to us sinners), that we may receive mercy [for our failures] and find grace to help in good time for every need [appropriate help and well-timed help, coming just when we need it]."

I so need God’s help and His mercy at this time, so I look forward to this time away with Him and with so many people who I love and miss. And, I look forward with faith to the restoration that God has for me to receive and for the renewal I trust He will grant me before I return to my beloved home of Honduras.

With love,
Sarah