Springs of Life for Dry Wells

Old school memory--a geyser in Yellowstone National Park from my trip from over a year ago

Hello All,

As is evident from the dates between posts, I have been quite a slacker in updating (sorry, Grandmom!). There are various reasons for that. While I’d like to claim that it’s due to busyness (and perhaps that’s also partially true), it’s also largely been due to a general exhaustion on my part. When I say exhaustion, I don’t mean lack of sleep. I mean spiritual exhaustion which seems so easy to fall into when you’re a missionary (at least given my own, very limited experience). There is a stark difference between life in the States and life here and various other parts of the world, and that difference is exposure to need. In the US, I think I could probably count on one hand how many times someone asked me to loan them money, and I don’t think it was ever any more than 20 bucks. Coming from West Virginia, one of the poorest states in the union, need isn’t necessarily uncommon, but it’s not so out-in-the-open as it is here. I would argue that it is absolutely possible to lead a life in the US, completely comfortable in one’s own bubble and problems, without ever really being forced to see the needs of other people (other than maybe the occasional homeless person, and it seems easy for us gringos to justify that the person is there by choice). Living here, that is impossible.


If you’re out and about—no matter where—you’re likely to see people begging on the streets, dirty children, and just the overall norms of a developing country. Even if we don’t venture out of the house, we have visitors here at Alvin and Nelly’s house every single day, and a lot of those visitors come because they’re hungry, because they don’t have any shoes, or because they’re so lost in their own lives of unemployment, desperation, and poverty that they don’t know who else to turn to. Even when there is next to no food in Alvin and Nelly’s house, no one is going to come to Nelly hungry and leave her house hungry even if it means that she gives the last of what she has. I tell you all of these things to give you a glimpse into my life here, but I want you to know clearly that I wouldn’t have it any other way. I moved here to be immersed in the needs of others even when that means that sometimes I get overwhelmed.


During the month of September, Alvin was gone in the States, which left Nelly and I here at home with the girls. It was a month where it seemed like the needs of others were unending. I won’t lie—sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning in the lessons I need to learn from this place. I like to help others, and I always want to have a generous heart. However, I’ve also come to recognize often that many times, people—almost especially some of the Christians—here have grown so accustomed to poverty and begging that they have no problem being demanding of what you have and would prefer a hand-out to an opportunity to work themselves. That is NOT the case for everyone. I marvel at the resilience of people who fill potholes in the street or sell sticks of gum or juggle at street lights because they’re doing SOMETHING that isn’t begging or stealing. But, for others, there is just an overall lack of initiative and maturity. It’s difficult, in the midst of guilt trips for being a gringa (who must by default have lots of money), to know when giving means offering the love of Jesus and when it means hindering someone’s push to learn to run to Jesus. Nelly and I often discuss that the people who repeatedly come to us with their needs, demanding that we help them, are Christians who haven’t learned to run to Jesus. When I have a need, I run to my Heavenly Father—not a friend, not my family, or even a spiritual father. And God is ALWAYS faithful to provide in the most exciting ways. This is a lesson that I don’t know how to teach others.


Anyway, spiritual exhaustion doesn’t just come from pressure from the needs of others. It also comes from just getting tired in the waiting for things that God has promised. So much has happened in a year, and I marvel at what my great God is capable of accomplishing in such short spans of time. But this human still struggles with patience and resting that I’m on God’s time. And, it is sometimes for this reason, that I stop writing and stop blogging because I don’t want to reflect because reflection means that instead of pouting over this moment, I look back with wonder at God’s faithfulness in all the little moments that have led up to this little moment that seems to filled with discontent. But, as always, I am learning—to run to Jesus once again, to proclaim the words He’s already declared in my life with faith, and to take authority over discouragement and accept the joy of the Lord as my strength.


To update you, September was a special month. As mentioned in the previous post, the 3rd was my one-year anniversary of living here. Only three days later, we celebrated Mayra’s 18th birthday. I was quite grateful that even though she left us for a span of time, that a year later, she is back in our midst, chattering our ears off and keeping us laughing because she’s so special. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who dreams in such a big way. I love that about her. She’s one of the tiniest little girls I’ve ever met, but she has a huge, brilliant future, and she’s not afraid to tell you about it. What an amazing God we serve who took this young lady from the bondage of incest and fear to now lead her to great joy and hope in her future. On the 16th, another one of our girls, Quendy, had her baby, Rohel Alexander. She is now living with her common law husband, Rohel, in Danlí and comes back on the weekends to visit the church. After months of Raúl and I hearing Quendy talk about how she wanted to throw away her baby and desperately counseling her and encouraging her to embrace this little gift of human life, I am unspeakably blessed to watch Quendy, still a little girl herself, be a good mom. She is still in need of prayer as she’s skinnier than ever and seems to suffer a lot at the hands of her common-law husband, but she is not a lost cause.

Mayra's birthday cake



Me and Mayra during her birthday outing



Mayra's birthday party



The birthday girl

 

Quendy with baby, Rohel Alexander...I call him Alex.During the month of September, Raúl and I also went to visit Orlin. He is in a rehabilitation facility, and based on that visit, he’s doing well. It took him a while to get adjusted, and at first, he wanted to run away. But now, he is improving and is beginning to see the value his life has because of the love of Jesus. And, for any of you Hedgesville Hope for Honduras readers, I want you to know that I believe that the love and attention that you all gave him planted the seeds of Jesus’ love that are now bringing about change for his future. God sent you all right on time for that young man.


At this juncture, we don’t know where Bladimir is. Before Alvin left for the States, he put Bladi back in the IHNFA system because he was stealing and smoking pot (even in the short time he was with us). He was in 21 de Octubre for about a week before he escaped. He came to our house in the middle of the night with some other boys (which led to Raúl and a neighbor coming to check on us and take care of things), but Nelly told him that the following morning, he needed to go back to 21. He, instead, ran away. The last we’ve heard, he’s been selling bracelets and juice on the streets although we aren’t sure of where exactly.


Estiven, a friend of Raúl, left to go to the United States illegally, but he was caught on the border in Mexico and was deported after being gone only about a month. He is now working full-time with Raúl at the business and is doing his best to take care of his common-law wife and young daughter.

Uncle Raúl with Sherlley, Estiven's daughter

During the month of September, I did a lot of traveling on Sundays. As usual, I went to Yuscaran to take part in the ministry there, and I also went with Nelly and a whole band of other people to another little pueblo called Junquillo. Junquillo is where Manos Extendidas has an unfinished church and where we intend to perhaps make another feeding center someday. Originally, Nelly and I went to take some donation items from the Hedgesville Hope for Honduras team and to reconnect with the pastors there, but after seeing how overgrown the church property had gotten, Nelly decided to come back a few Sundays to clear brush with some other people. While the yard now looks so much better, what ended up being so precious about these trips was the genuine fellowship that took place among us as we worked side-by-side and drove the two hours there and two hours back.


Clearing brush in Junquillo

Hermano Nati going to work with the weedeater



Hermana Gloria and Hermana Martha in the churchyard at Junquillo

Raúl being silly with Jesús in the back of the truck on the ride to Junquillo

Raúl and Hermano Nati

Me and the baby



 

 

Hermano Carlos, Abuelo, and Hermano Alex sitting outside the unfinished church building in Junquillo

On the first trip that Nelly and I took, on the way back, Nelly was driving past a church we’d never been to and heard their worship service. She decided to stop (you never know what’s going to happen or where you’re going to go when you’re on a trip with Nelly). During that particular day, I was really struggling with that spiritual exhaustion in waiting for God’s timing and had been telling God all day, “I’m pretty sure you got the wrong girl. I don’t have the compassion and patience it takes to be a missionary here. Am I even doing anything worthwhile here?” Well, as I got into the worship service, I got my answer. I just started worshipping and crying and repenting for my attitude. I just told God that He had my whole life, and that regardless of my own desires and frustrations, that I chose Him above all else and that He had the liberty to do with me what He pleased. And in response to my painful cries of surrender, He replied, “And I chose you.” It was a pivotal moment for me because there are times when I struggle with my little life here and wondering why God sent me here even as I adore my new home and new family and new life. Really, His choice of me is the only reason I’m here. My being a missionary in Honduras has very little to do with my capabilities and everything to do with His grace in giving me the privilege to be a part of His work. The whole service was so good for all of us on the trip, and the rest of the service was all about learning to have faith. During the message, God reminded me of a word I’d been reading the night before—Revelation 3:7-8:
To the angel of the church in Philadelphia write: These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name. That verse was very encouraging to me. Sometimes, it feels like the doors are slammed on so many of the dreams God’s placed in my heart. But, He has already opened the door for me in His Kingdom, and no one can shut it.

Wandering around in the mountains on the outskirts of Yuscarán

Hermano Tomás, Gaby, Lari, Hermana Martha, and me sitting outside one of the houses of the ladies of our congregation

 

 

 
 As some of you may have already read in one of my newsletters, some new projects have also been started in Yuscaran. I went with Hermano Nati, Hermano Tomás, Hermana Martha, and some daughters of Hermano Tomás to see about starting a project with some of our poorer families from the congregation in raising tilapia as a food source (and perhaps down the line to sell). It was a fun day and was also so eye-opening to see how far some of these women and children walk and how they live. They don’t have any furniture. They sleep on dirt floors. They are often cold and hungry. Visiting these families was also a good opportunity to see some new neighborhoods where we can evangelize. The houses and families are so spread out in the mountains in some cases that you don’t realize at first glance how many people live in these little areas. But, there are no churches in this new neighborhood we visited, and it’s ripe for evangelism. So, please join in prayer with us for this future congregation as well as for our existing congregation.

One prayer request that weighs heavily on my heart is for a young lady in our congregation who is about 15-years-old. She has a young daughter around two years old and recently gave birth to another daughter—both of which we strongly believe were fathered by her stepfather. Both her mother and her stepfather are alcoholics. Hermano Nati and I recently visited the home where all of these people live after service in Aceituno (outside Yuscaran) one Sunday. The home consisted of rough branches, pieces of plastic and dirt floors. The newborn baby was wrapped in dirty rags (not so very different from our young King, wouldn’t you say?). And we had a rare opportunity to talk to this young lady alone. Even though she smiles at me brightly when I smile at her, I always see such a sadness in her eyes as if a child is trapped inside and is begging for a rescue. She is very submissive to her parents, and all of the neighbors have the same belief that we do—that her children could be fathered by no one else but her stepfather. There’s no one else around her house, and I simply don’t believe that a child who has such a meek spirit and submissive disposition is running around rebelliously getting pregnant with nonexistent neighbor boys. Furthermore, when the mother of the young lady went to register her grandchildren, she registered them as her children rather than as her daughter’s. In those rare moments with this adolescent, I felt so strongly that she wanted to tell us her secret and her need for a rescue, and Hermano Nati and I did everything (gently) within our power to let her know that she could trust us. But, she’s understandably very afraid. My heart breaks for his little girl and longs to take her out of her nightmare. But, the child services/court system can be tricky and without a firsthand account from her, I don’t feel like I, personally, with little connections, can step in on just a suspicion. So, please be praying that the God who sees all will bring the truth to light and will give us wisdom in how to help this young mother.


In the same vein of IHNFA and child services, I’ve still been going to the boys’ center, 21 de Octubre, with our Danish volunteer, Benjamin. I have not, however, been teaching. For roughly a month, IHNFA has been on strike because they have not been paid by the government. Thus, it’s been difficult to even enter sometimes. And teaching is quite a difficult task anyway with little to no structure and with new boys coming in and other boys leaving every day. I have, however, made a friend within the system which I fully believe has been a God thing. Most of the time that I’ve been going to 21 since February, no one in the office has paid us a bit of attention. We just enter and visit with the boys without having met the director, etc. This psychologist, however, befriended me from the start, and she often calls me into her office to tell me the stories of some of the boys that I wouldn’t have otherwise known. She also asked me to teach one specific young man, Juliano, who has been in 21 various times for drug addiction. So, after all of this strike business calms down, we’ll see what comes of that.


October has been less climactic than September. Alvin returned, and life has returned a bit more to the usual, which I recognize you may have no concept of. Sometimes, another reason that I stop reflecting is that it all seems to continue to be the same. When your heart is longing for something else, it’s hard to appreciate what’s right in front of you and what you’re living in the moment. I look back and read old journals from my first days in Honduras and marvel at the things that used to thrill me that have now become so normal. Some weeks are spent so slowly and so routinely—checking emails, relaying messages to Alvin, washing my laundry at the pila, cleaning my house, visiting Raúl at the business, and going grocery shopping. I won’t lie—there are days when my prayers breathlessly crumble into repeated thoughts of, “Please, God, send me something new. I’m so desperate for something new.” And the truth of the matter is that He does…but if it’s not the new thing that I think I want or need, sometimes, I don’t even recognize it. I miss (and am trying to return) to a more childlike mentality—one that rejoices in and sees my Heavenly Father in every little detail.



To give you an example of one of the little crazy joys in my life and how I occasionally randomly pass my days, one day a couple weeks ago, Raúl showed up at my house around 10:30 AM. This is nothing new—he works down the road and zips around on his motor bike to run errands or to visit when business is slow. But, this particular day, he showed up with Estiven and a bag of fish saying, “Sarah, do you think you could do me a favor? Could you cook us some fish?” I had gotten up that morning with absolutely nothing to do. You can only check email and clean your house so many times. So, I gladly agreed.




After the de-scaling, gutting, and cutting...


One thing you have to know is that in Honduras, the people fry fish whole…meaning with the heads and tails. It’s not like in the US when you open your freezer and take out a happy bag of precut, pre-cleaned, etc. filets. And it’s also not even like when my family would go fishing because the job of de-scaling, gutting, cleaning, cutting, etc. the fish was always my dad’s—not my mom’s (although I’m sure Mama Cheryl is one gringa who could do so with her eyes closed). That is not so here. The good news, however, is that I have learned how to prepare fish like a Honduran because Nelly (a Nicaraguan, ha ha) showed me. So, I spent my whole day de-scaling, gutting, cutting, and frying fish and the necessary accompanying foods to bring down to the business in the evening to feed me, Raúl, his workers, and three girls who work at the nearby dumpster looking for recyclables. This is my little life in Honduras.



The finished, fried product

Fried green bananas

Cabbage, tomato, and pepper salad

Another part of my little life that is irreplaceable is Raúl’s family. On October 13th, Raúl’s grandmother celebrated another birthday, and I celebrated a year of being an adopted member of their family. There is something so precious about being expected to be at every family gathering, being invited to bake with his mom, and being introduced to friends in town as part of the family. I am so blessed by their kindness and so enamored with each unique member of the family and each special dynamic, and I am so inexplicably grateful to Raúl for inviting me to be a part of his world. His inclusion has meant the world to this gringa so far from a sense of my own home and family.

Singing to Abuela Faustina
Primo Miguel, Abuela Faustina, Raúl, Tío Miguel, and Roy

So, God is faithful. Even when I get discouraged, discontent, and impatient, He is still there, waiting for me to pick myself up and run to Him. And, when I do, He always has something new to teach me. Some of the things He’s been teaching me have come from Mel Tari’s book, Like a Mighty Wind, from a message by Kris Vallotten at the River Church of Fresno, and from the book, Kisses from Katie—all of which I recommend. Mel Tari’s book talks about a revival that started in 1965 in Indonesia. It’s such a simple, easy read, but its simplicity is so powerful. He says:

It’s simple, you know, this Christian life. If the Christian life were complicated, we in the heathen country could never have become Christians. When the Bible says something, we just take it as it is, believe it, rest, smile, and let God do the job. (38). Oh, how I pray that God would bring me that childlike simplicity. He says very clearly in Isaiah 43:18-19:

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.
Thus, even when I can’t see this new thing, I have to believe that He IS doing it, and I have to rest that He’s doing it in His perfect way and time.



Kris Vallotten’s message really convicted me of this aspect of time. His message was about viewing our Christian life through the lens of eternity. He makes the point that God exists outside of time. Thus, He was able to go to the day that we would choose Him, and He chose us first. Kris also makes the point that the spiritual world lives outside of the realm of time which is why prophecy is so powerful—it’s able to release power that exists outside of time. It’s because of prophecies given to Abraham about his many descendants that we have been born today. Kris says, “When you received Jesus, you received eternal life, past present, and future.” What an amazing thing to think about—that God doesn’t just promise us heaven or even that He’s in our midst in the present. He promises us that He has the power to enter our past to redeem even the things we’ve already experienced with His eternal life and good. Because of this eternal life, he declares that we have responsibilities on both sides of the veil—which means to say that we don’t just have responsibilities in this tangible world we can see. We also have responsibilities in the spiritual realm to pray and take part in the spiritual war that is ever-transpiring for the souls of the sons of man. The part of the message that had the greatest impact on me, however, was when he mentioned Josiah. Three hundred years before Josiah became king, it was prophesied that he would be king. Thus, when they found the scriptures, and they were reading the scriptures to Josiah, what he was hearing was his own life story (past, present, and future) being read to him. It made me think what it would be like to not only be introduced to this God you previously knew so little about but in the same moments also be introduced to yourself and your very purpose for being alive. And he fulfilled his God-given purpose because of that prophecy proclaimed 300 years before his time.


After listening to this message, I felt like God wanted me to sit down and write out all of the prophecies spoken over my life and all the things He’s shown me directly or through other people that He has for me. But, I was in a place of discouragement, and like I said, I was avoiding reflection. But, when I finally obeyed, I couldn’t even remember all of the things spoken over my short life, and I kept remembering more and more. And, as I wrote down words and prophecies beginning with the fact that God told my parents to name me Sarah all the way to words spoken in the year I’ve lived here, I saw the perfection of my Creator. His words have always been consistent. Words spoken to me in childhood have perfectly coincided with words spoken in my adolescence and now. No words have been contradictory. Some of the words from my childhood have already come to fruition, and some haven’t yet. Some words from this year have already been fulfilled, and some haven’t yet. And as I finally just got tired and couldn’t finish because I couldn’t even remember or find them all in my old journals, I had give God His credit for making me do this little exercise of faith. How could I doubt a God who is such a perfect writer? How could I be discontent with a Father who’s been giving me foreshadowing and hints about my life and purpose and future since the time I was born (really just for my own fun and His)? Thus, I was encouraged and lifted out of my place of frustration because Proverbs 29:18 is true:
Where there is no prophetic vision the people cast off restraint, but blessed is he who keeps the law.
When we lose sight of God’s prophetic vision for us, it’s easy to start trying to force our own plans and timing. But, when we can take hold of the perfection of the words He’s already proclaimed over our lives, we can rest that all of our story will unravel in the penmanship of our perfect Father.


The book I’m currently reading is Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis. A friend of mine from college sent me the book and a lovely message of encouragement. But, the first glance of the premise—a young lady who is around my age who left the US after high school to move to Uganda, started her own ministry, and adopted 14 girls as a single woman—made me feel inadequate and, in some ways, quite jealous. So much of what God has promised me is children, and there are times when the ache for those children is so great that I feel suffocated with emptiness. But, as God’s been leading me out of discouragement, He nudged me to start reading the book. What I found was a friend and sister in a person I’ve never met before. Reading her story has been like reading my own story. The struggles she talks about, the culture shock, the feeling completely at home in a strange new land, and the deep desire to be poured out for Jesus echo my heart so deeply that I feel like they could be my very own words jumping from the pages and into my heart. If you ever wish to understand who I am, why I moved here, and what my heart’s cry is through the eyes of a stranger, read Kisses from Katie. Reading this book has reignited something in me that has been dormant for a while because of the strain of this process of refinement and developing patience and endurance. It can be quite painful to live on the mission field, especially as a single person. I am so grateful for Katie’s example, and for how her story has encouraged me to remember my First Love and my desire to love the one person in front of me like Jesus even after much hurt, much disappointment, and much fear. As she says:
…the Lord has shown me that the more I give of myself, the more He fills me up. The more I love, the more love I have to give. (98).
(The link to her blog is at the bottom of this page and is called "on earth as it is in heaven.")



I know that this update is terribly long, but I want to leave you with one last glimpse into my beautiful life and how precious the people of Honduras are. I learn from them all the time…


I am in the shower on Saturday, lathering and turning over thoughts of special people, and thinking of one particular sister in Christ, Hermana Sonia from Tatumbla—the small home town of Raúl. Raúl and I intend to visit her, so I want to make sure she’s going to be home the following day. I no sooner step, dripping wet, out of the shower when she calls me. She has never called me before. She calls to invite me to a vigilia, or late-night vigil, at her house this particular evening. Raúl had told me about it but hadn’t wanted to go. Hermana Sonia says, “God has big things for you tonight, Sarah. You need to come.” Truthfully, I am so discouraged and desperate for a touch of God (and nearly angry at Raúl for not wanting to go) that I determine in my head all day that if Nelly doesn’t decide to go, that I’m just going to walk there. It’s hard to tell what I’ll do when I get stubborn and desperately exhausted. So, Nelly and I go. (I so enjoy being Nelly’s sidekick and daughter in training.)

We arrive around 9:45 PM after it’s already started to loud claps and cheering and the glow of bare light bulbs and the warmth of a giant crowd of pueblo (small town) people crammed into a small house. The air is quite chilly but the ambiance is nothing but radiance. I walk in, shyly, scanning the premises to see rows and rows of children and adults sitting on small mattresses all over the floor of the living room and crowds of adults standing in the kitchen. Walter, Raúl’s brother, who is quite shy sees me and gives me his usual kind, yet awkward welcome, and I feel someone grab my legs from behind—it’s Waldina, Raúl’s sister, who insists I sit beside her on the floor in front of the open front door and says, “I’ve been waiting for you to come!” I hadn’t told anyone in Raúl’s family or Raúl that I was going.



A young boy around 13, whose voice hasn’t even changed yet, is preaching. He’s grasping his Bible in his hand and pacing the floor with the confidence of an old preacher man, and his words exude a wisdom beyond his years as he tells of words God’s given him, odd ways he’s had to obey God, and his passion for his Heavenly Father who rescued him from a life of living like an animal—just eating, sleeping, and working with no other purpose. Can I remind you again that he’s only 13? He finishes preaching, and a time of worship begins.



It is one of the oddest, most beautiful things I’ve ever seen that makes me feel somehow like a child and so grateful that I live in this crazy country. The music reminds me of something off of the Andy Griffith Show with what sounds like banjos and repetitive picking and lyrics and twangy voices resonating from the CD player speakers. This kind of worship is very typical of Honduras, and while no “contemporary” Christian in the US would “be able” to worship to this kind of music, Hondurans get lost in and filled with God’s presence while dancing to these songs on repeat. So, a kind of circle is formed. The people who really want to be filled and soaked with God’s presence enter the circle. One woman who is wearing what I would describe as a Mary Poppins dress and bun is twirling in the middle with her eyes closed with a look on her face like she is eating the most sour lemon she’s ever tasted, and she is shaking her hands close to her face like one does when the heat is just too hot to handle. She stumbles around the circle just lost in God’s presence and His joy, and the people on the outskirts of the circle worship like normal, clapping their hands. And, when she gets close or almost falls into their laps, without flinching, they just stretch out their arms to keep her upright. I can’t help but giggle when I see that her skirt is coming unzipped—not because I am disrespectfully making fun but because I can’t help but think of David and how he passionately danced naked before his God. And this woman is just one example.

She has her time in the center, but when her time is up, and her cup is full, she exits, and someone else enters. And perfectly sober, she stretches out her hands to keep the person upright just as the others had done for her.  In the circle, demons are being rebuked, words are being given, and the discouraged and damaged are finding their portion again. And what I marvel about the entire experience is that nothing is out of order. I hear people say so often that you have to be very careful with the gifts of the Holy Spirit and with letting the Holy Spirit have control because people go crazy because they don’t know how to handle it, and there’s no order. But, in the midst of this experience that is truly so foreign to me, no one seems to be at a loss for his or her place and time and moment. There is no one person trying to be the hero, and even Hermana Sonia who is hosting and has called for the event demonstrates no problem in letting others be obedient to what they feel led to do. She doesn’t tolerate demonic interruptions and deals with them promptly, but she is by no means “the face” of the ministry that is taking place.



Waldina enters the circle at Hermana Sonia’s gentle leading, and with no hesitation, she just begins to worship God with all she has because she came to get filled. Waldina is at least a full head shorter than me, but for being such a small thing, what pours from her being in worship displays that she certainly has the hugest of hearts. I can’t help but grin while watching my second family worshipping with such childlike, uninhibited spirits. It makes me proud to be a part of them and reminds me of how much they can teach me.



The rest of the evening is spent on the purpose for which Hermana Sonia called this vigilia. God had not allowed her to sleep for two weeks, and He showed her a prophetic message that He wanted her to share. She was in doubt as to whether or not it was from Him since it seemed so odd, so she told God that if it was really Him, that He should send someone walking by her house (which is far even from the little town) who was selling honey, and she would buy it and know that it was a message from God. She mentioned to Him as a sidenote that she only had 70 lempiras (the equivalent of a little over $3). She started washing her clothes and soon heard someone outside her window, offering to sell her some honey for 100 lempiras. Wide-eyed and knowing God was at work, Hermana Sonia asked again how much the honey was but scoffed at the 100 since she only had 70, so she told the person, “Well, I’ll give you 70 for it.” And the salesperson readily agreed.



The message deals with prophetic symbols of colored mantles, wine, honey, salt, milk, bread, fish, and water. She has scriptures to back each symbol and to convey what God wanted to pour out on His people. And, she says that God told her that He would lead her to give each person in ministry what He intended to give them. So, she calls Nelly up (who came to receive and had no idea that she would be a part of ministering to the other people), and they start praying for people. Hermana Sonia calls up the individuals, but she tag team prays for them with Nelly. And, as I’m straining to hear what is said, it is undeniable that they’re both flowing in the same anointing because they build off of each other, and nothing one says contradicts the other.



Meanwhile, I’m standing beside Waldina who is crying and trembling under God’s power, but the desperation is all over her face. It’s a desperation I know well. While I know of the lives of my second family members, I’m not so close to all of them to know their pains and struggles. But, as I reach out to comfort my little sister, she falls instantly and crumples into my arms with sobs. And, thankfully, God starts giving me words to fill her ears and her heart with comfort and new promise through prophecy.



And so the evening passes with prayer and worship and liberations from demons and blessings and everything I’ve ever wanted to believe is involved in the real Christian life—all with a bunch of people I’ve never met before in my life who don’t look anything like me and don’t speak my first language. Truly, the best thing about the entire experience is that fellowship and that reminder that God is so real, that His Spirit is real, and that He moves among and through His people with divine order.



When we finally make it home around 5 AM, I feel a peace and calm I hadn't felt before we left. What I received didn’t involve a lot of shaking or twirling. It didn’t involve strong feelings or physical sensations. It didn’t look like what many others were receiving. But, what I received was exactly what I needed to carry on in obedience and hope. It was the quiet revelation that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever which gave me the peace I needed to let go of my frustrations and discontentment and just revel in Him as these beautiful, childlike people were doing before me. It gave me the bravery to let go of my frail illusion of control and the bondage of my timing to let God truly be King of my life, working in all situations even when I can’t see. And all of this came for me through this experience and through one line from “The Rain Song” by Day of Fire whispered into my spirit by the Holy Spirit, “I’ll bring springs of life into the wells that have been run dry.”



So I take hold of that word for myself, for those I love, and for those I have yet to meet. And I thank God for sending me to live in this beautiful country full of His children who love me in a way I've never experienced before. So much of being a missionary is learning how to learn and receive from others, a privilege I am ever grateful for.



With all my love,

Sarah

Rest, Wisdom, Roots, and Worship

Hello All,


It has been quite a while since I last updated, and so much has happened! To start, in the end of July we had a team of ten people from Hedgesville, West Virginia, including some of my former high school students from student teaching, two other teachers, and my facilitating teacher, Nancy. It was so wonderful to have them here. I was so proud of how they represented my state and me because they were such a great example of what I hope for teams to be when they come. I think the thing that they did that made the biggest difference to me was purposefully desiring to include Honduran teenagers in their everyday activities. Some teams are great about including and interacting with Hondurans who happen to be around during projects and the like, but the Hedgesville Hope for Honduras team was the first to ask Alvin to purposefully include some Hondurans their own age to build lasting, deeper relationships. I recognize that this isn’t always easy for other teams because of the language barrier, but that was the other blessing of the kids of Hedgesville—they all had had at least some Spanish education and were willing to practice their skills even knowing they were going to make mistakes. As a teacher and a missionary, it was so amazing to watch the kids connecting and participating in the culture and really acquiring the language more and more every day. While they were here, they visited an elementary school and the government-run centers, Casitas Kennedy and 21 de Octubre. They also painted Feeding Center #1 which also involved building a scaffold to reach the highest places. They visited the hospital to give donations to the poor, new mothers, and they had collected and brought SO MANY items that their donations touched every facet of the ministry with even some overflow to help other ministries. They also did street ministry and visited the dump, taking sandwiches and water to the people working there in the hot sun. Their most exemplary quality as a group was their attitude. They were so eager to jump in even when it meant exiting their comfort zones. They danced with the dance team girls at church (I’ve never seen any team ever do that before). They tried Honduran food and were the first team to accompany Raúl and me on a Sunday to visit his mom’s restaurant. They looked the people at the dump in the eyes and were so laid back in doing street ministry. They talked with the boys at 21 de Octubre and let the adolescent girls at Casitas Kennedy play with/fix their hair. When we had an accident while painting Feeding Center #1 that involved Orlin getting a head injury, they jumped to action administering first aid and cradling and comforting Orlin like one of their own. They also included and paid for their new Honduran friends in their recreational beach trip which everyone enjoyed. I know that reading this it may not seem like that big of a difference, but so many things that they willingly took part in within a new culture and immersed in a different language are things that I’ve never seen other teams do.



I, personally, was so blessed that they came. On the Sunday they were here, I was just overcome with tears to recognize God’s faithfulness. Sometimes, in the daily grind of life and in mounting difficult circumstances, it’s easy to feel like God has forgotten our hearts’ desires or that He’s not working on our behalf or that we’ll never see the fruition of seeds we’ve planted. But, having my students here was such an encouragement. God led me to Hedgesville High School to student teach my last semester of college in 2011. God spoke to Nancy and asked her to accept me as her student teacher, and even though it was unorthodox, she allowed me to teach a lengthy unit about Honduras. It was amazing to me then (and even more amazing to me now) that at the beginning of the unit, the students wrote in their journals that they didn’t get the point of learning about the poverty and the culture of Honduras but by the end of the unit, some of them felt some kind of connection with the people in Honduras. At times, it felt like I was wasting my breath, and I was so exhausted during student teaching with creating everything to teach about Honduras from scratch. I could have just done enough to get by, to graduate, and get out. But, God had given me such a beautiful opportunity in Nancy’s willingness and had placed such a love in my heart for Hondurans and for my students, that I knew that I couldn’t waste it. It was worth every minute of lost sleep, getting a terrible bout of the flu after spending four years of college never being sick, and putting off my senior project to be conquered after my first student teaching stint. When I left, Nancy had already mentioned coming to Honduras at some point, but what blessed and surprised both of us was that the students approached her about coming with her. They worked so hard to raise money and to collect items to bless the people here. Words cannot express how proud I am of them, how happy I am that they want to come back, and how encouraged I am that God is absolutely able to work through our planted seeds and faithfulness in His way and timing. If you'd like to check out the students' thoughts on their blog, go to http://hopeforhonduras.tumblr.com/.

Ashley with lots of little boys we visited at a school

Nancy making friends as usual

Orlin painting Feeding Center #1

The girls (Ashley and Clara Beth) teaching Mayra how to paint

Christian (with Kaci and Michelle) not even pretending to look busy ;)

Aaron, Matt, and Señor Chip helping with the scaffold

  

One of the ladies with her grandchild during street ministry

Street ministry

Kaci talking with Alvin and Michael

Matt and Clara Beth visiting with the kids from the streets while handing out drinks

Michael and Antonio

Me and Jeffery--this kid is SO SMART!

Beach day!

We even tricked Raúl into coming to relax and have a good time with us--we had him drive one of the cars!

The baby and me

The whole crew--vikingo, gringos, and catrachos

After the team left, Michael left about a week later. I was so sad to see him go. He has been such a good friend to me in a time when I really needed it most. With his leaving, I felt a bit like I was going to go back to the loneliness of before. He and Mathias had been here six months of my near year here, so they had become a staple of my everyday life. But, God is faithful always, and I am happy to say that even as we left Michael at the airport, a very old school Jaci Velazquez song (that I didn't even have) echoed in my head, "I will rest in You, I will rest in You." As friends come and go, I am blessed that I can always rest in Him. I am also so proud and excited for Michael as the next part of his adventure has taken him to Canada where he's meeting lots of new, friendly people and still finding time to Skype with me occasionally.

 To update you on some of the other characters in my ongoing story here, I can say that we’re always learning the rhythms of God’s grace. As you may remember from past updates, Orlin and Estiven were two young men who had worked with Raúl who were doing their best to exit their old lifestyles of drugs and to commit their lives to God. While the team was here, Orlin was one of the ones who spent lots of time getting to know the kids and practicing Spanish. He and Nancy, especially, had a special mother/grandmother/son connection. He was doing pretty well when I first got back, and as I mentioned, I enjoyed taking him under my wing and encouraging him.




That is usually my heart in how I interact with people—I always want to believe the best about everyone. This, in general, can be a good quality, but it can also make me blind, sometimes, to reality or make me act in such a way that does not demonstrate wisdom. Growing up, I never understood and was even somewhat bothered by the verse in Matthew 10 that says, “Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves; so be as shrewd as serpents and as innocent as doves.” The Message even uses the word “cunning” instead of “shrewd,” and the fact that the Bible usually connects serpents to evil also made me confused by this verse. But, after living here, I know the truth that this message holds. Now, more so than ever, I see the absolute necessity that we have for not only wisdom but the Body of Christ, for each other.



A prime example deals with Orlin. I’m the kind of person who gives all or nothing. I am so 100% that I find it difficult to hold back, and I end up letting everything I feel show which others can sometimes use to their own advantage. Before the team came, Orlin called me upset because he had fallen—he was at the dumpster past Raúl’s business, and he was high for the first time since he had made the choice to live for God. He was very upset and didn’t know what to do, so I told him to get himself out of the situation and away from the guys who were going to tempt him to do more. I told him to go to Raúl’s business, but he insisted that he didn’t want to do that because Raúl didn’t have any work for him to do and ignored him. So, I told him I’d go to him. It’s a bit of a walk from the house down to Raúl’s business and farther to the dumpster, so by the time I reached Raúl’s, it was pouring the rain. Raúl asked me what I was doing, and I explained about Orlin’s phone call. Raúl’s response was, “Sarah, you can do whatever you want, but please don’t go down there. All of those guys are high, and even though all of them know me and know you’re my friend, so I don’t think anything would happen to you, they’re going to say vulgar stuff to you, and I just don’t want that. Please don’t go down there. I just don’t see it being a good situation.”



Well, for any of you who know me personally, you probably also know that I’m relatively fearless and stubborn. So, while I appreciated his desire to protect me, I didn’t really see myself as being in any danger, and I had told Orlin that I was going to come to him. I wasn’t worried about anything those guys were going to say to me. Thus, when the rain let up, without saying a word to Raúl, I started walking down there. He yelled after me, “Sarah! Where are you going?” That was a dumb question because he knew where I was going, but I stopped because he’d started running after me. By the time he reached me, I was half way to the dumpster. “Sarah, please don’t go down there. It’d be different if I was with you, but please? Don’t trust Orlin, Sarah. Look, he’s right there. He can see that you’re here. You’ve already walked all the way from the house. He should be man enough to walk to the business and not make you go there.” He was right—I could see Orlin from where I was standing, and he clearly saw me. So, I agreed to go back to the business with Raúl, who continued, “Sarah, why did he call you? You’re a woman. He could’ve called me. He could’ve called Nahum or Papi. Why did he call you?” He was right. Sometimes, I get so caught up in wanting to rescue someone and feeling like I’m needed that I miss when the other person is using me or putting me in dangerous situations. I explained that Orlin thought that Raúl ignored him, and Raúl explained, “I don’t ignore him. You’ve been at the business enough to know what it gets like when we have a lot of customers. I don’t have time to stop and chat when we’re only two guys working here with four cars waiting.” He’s right, and as far as not having any work to give Orlin, he’s already employing/helping two other drug addicts and only has so much that he can spread around in terms of salaries. Raúl has never “run off” any of those boys whether they show up high or sober, hateful or tranquil, hungry or full. Even after so many of them lie to him, steal from him, and talk badly about him to others, he still lets them spend time with him at the business and even goes so far to give them his own lunch when they’re hungry. Just as it is with the girls from the Eagle’s Nest, the fact that they still come around is evidence enough that their own negative words simply aren’t true.



Orlin did eventually come to me at the business, and I persuaded him to walk back up to the house. The whole way home, the only thing he had to say was how he had more bad friends than good friends, and how terrible of a person Raúl was. There was no responsibility taken for his own actions in choosing to do drugs again. Internally, I had to laugh because he picked the absolute worst person to be talking badly to about Raúl and because, in his attitude, I could see that Raúl was right. That isn’t to say that Raúl and I don’t believe that God is completely capable of changing Orlin’s life, healing his past, and helping him escape a life of drugs. We never want to write anyone off as being beyond God’s reach. We want to believe for them all. But, there is the necessity to love others not because of their bad stories or because of pity or even because of Christian obligation but simply because Jesus loves them, and there is a great necessity to constantly seek God as to how that love looks rather than making assumptions. That is why once I stopped being stubborn, I was so grateful for Raúl’s protection because he was able to see an aspect of the situation that I was missing and was able to counsel me and remind me to seek God in how to love Orlin rather than making my own assumptions based on feeling needed.



Orlin has had a rough life. His mom died from cancer when he was around 11. He’s lived and worked at the dump. He’s done lots of drugs. He’s grown up with older siblings who sometimes seem to care about him and sometimes don’t. He has very low self-esteem and has extreme difficulty in being anything but a follower of those who lead him to trouble. But, we don’t love Orlin because he’s had a bad life. The fact is, lots of kids here have learned that they can use their bad life stories to manipulate others to give them what they want (which in the long run isn’t helping them). We love Orlin because Jesus loves Orlin. We believe in Orlin because Jesus died for Orlin and because Jesus’ blood and His grace is enough to free him and make him clean. But, we must love with wisdom and give according to the leading of the Holy Spirit—no more and absolutely no less even when we feel like we’re at the end of our ropes.



After the team left, we had some problems with Orlin and Bladimir, Alvin’s foster son who I’ve known since I first came to Honduras, that involved drugs and stealing and death threats and lots of those kinds of situations that leave us feeling like we’re at the end of our ropes. But, in the process, we’re learning those rhythms of God’s grace. We’re learning when to hold on and when to let go, when to give mercy and when to give discipline, when to stick our necks out for someone else and when to let them learn from their mistakes alone. It’s not easy, but with a constant desire to obey and seek God outweighing our desire to see results or to rescue everyone or to be needed, all things are possible.

Orlin

I am happy to say that after much struggling and ups and downs, Alvin took Orlin to his final interview to go to a Christian rehab facility today. Provided that he doesn’t show up at our house or at Raúl’s later today, it is our belief that he’s been taken directly to the center to begin the process of getting clean and being discipled to be the man of God he’s called to be. God has great things for Orlin, but He can only move as far as Orlin’s own belief of his value allows. Please join with us in praying for Orlin. He is a precious child that God created who needs love and needs healed of his orphan spirit, and that’s a work that only God can do.

Bladimir

Please also join us in praying for Bladimir and Estiven. Bladimir is going to turn 15-years-old in October. He is a little boy who has a sweet heart and who has a gift for helping and giving to other people. He is a true orphan whose mother died years ago. Although he’s very smart (and often very bored in school for that reason), he’s not gone past fourth grade, being expelled by numerous schools after usually no more than two years. Following some problems with stealing and getting into trouble in our neighborhood while living with Alvin and Nelly, he had been living in a center for boys called Manuelito. As is rather typical, his behavior was sometimes very good and other times quite terrible—enough so that he was given a warning that he was on his last chance. After some further bad behavior, he was sent to 21 de Octubre where he arrogantly told the workers that he could do whatever he wanted because his Papi Alvin was going to come get him. He ended up escaping from 21 with a friend, robbing a house, and then coming back to the house at Alvin and Nelly’s decision. He wasn’t here for long before we started having the same problems as before—stealing, lying, and worse. So, after some very disrespectful behavior, Alvin brought him before the juvenile court (which was necessary anyway since we didn’t have legal custody), and he was sent back to 21, but Alvin is trying to get him sent to Alteva, a juvenile correctional farm where the boys can learn a trade and can really excel if they so choose.

This is Sherlley, Estiven's one and a half-year-old daughter. While it doesn't look like it in this picture where she's asleep with a kitten, she's a live wire who chases after her Tio "Aul" (Raúl) and Tia "Sita" (me) with so much energy! She has completely stolen my heart just as if she were really my niece.

Estiven is also in need of prayer. He is currently living with Raúl and learning the trade at Raúl’s business while Raúl helps him and his family financially. He is in such a valley of decision. Some days, he wants to move forward in his relationship with God, marry his common law wife, and be a good father to his daughter. Other days, he wants to illegally go to the US to escape the mundane, everyday routine (not realizing that he’ll find even more of that there). And other days, he struggles to accept God’s grace in the midst of temptations to do drugs again. Needless to say, keeping track of all of these boys keeps me and Raúl on our toes and reminded constantly of our need to open our spiritual eyes. Without the point of view of Jesus, we don’t have enough compassion and strength to keep giving of ourselves. Without the wisdom and direction of the Holy Spirit, we don’t know when we’ve reached that point where we’ve given enough and if we keep giving will become an unhealthy crutch. So, I guess what I’m saying in mentioning this, is please pray for us too. While we’re both young and don’t have near the responsibilities that Alvin and Nelly have (please pray for them too!), we have our own situations that are teaching us and maturing us by experience. The battles are truly all spiritual, and the work is truly the Lord's. We just desire to be obedient.

Meanwhile, Quendy’s baby is due next month (I know I keep saying that in every blog update…apparently even babies are on Honduran time here), so it seems as if I’ll be a tia (aunt) yet again. She is living with a relative of her second live-in boyfriend (he’s not the father), and she still shows up from time to time to visit and go to church. We’ll see what the next month holds and how God leads us to help Quendy.




Mayra is doing very well. I love having her in the house. She’s possibly going to be starting sewing classes soon, and meanwhile, she’s doing her best to learn Danish and English as she’s decided she’s bound to marry a foreigner. She is hilarious, and I love to watch her confidently talk to the groups who pass through our home—a direct result of the Hedgesville team who came and visited so much with her. I love watching her grow more every day, and I am so blessed by her innocence in the midst of so much deceit from others we work with. Continue to keep her in your prayers. There are still elements of her life and past that need healed. She was sharing with our small group the other day some of the things she went through in her childhood—how she never met her mother, how she was treated like a slave when she ran away, and how she doesn’t know so many of her siblings. She cried as she told us her story which may not seem like a shock given what she’s been through, but after hearing so many different parts of Mayra’s story on various occasions in the past, I can tell you that that was the first time I’d ever seen her cry about any of it. God is softening her heart. It’s a beautiful thing to watch and be a part of.

Our small group has still been meeting every Friday, and things are going well. God always knows who is supposed to be there, and I am so blessed by the unexpected ways in which He's been moving. I am encouraged to see various people in the group, including Raúl, being healed and moving forward in their walks with God. It's amazing how easy it is to talk oneself out of the plans of God, seeing as God laid it on my heart to start this group months before I was actually obedient. It's even more amazing how God can move through obedience (even in the second chances He gives us) to impact the lives of others. It's such a privilege to be a part of His perfect work.

Meanwhile, Alvin is headed to the States in just a few days and will be there the entire month of September. I know it'll be a good time of filling and refreshing for him, and it'll also be an interesting time for me. I'm rarely extremely busy. I'm rarely busy, period, but my life has a way of taking drastic turns and changing in surprising ways when Papi isn't here. I'm not really sure why, but in the midst of waiting and hoping for things God has planned and has promised, I'm excited for whatever my celestial Papi has in mind. ;)

In just a couple weeks, I will have lived in Honduras for a full year. While I may do a more thorough blog recap closer to my actual anniversary, I will say for now that I can't lie--there have been times where I have wanted to run away, times when I've questioned if I really had the patience and endurance to continue here. What has rescued me every time has been the very deep knowledge that it is God's will for me to be here and an unshakeable desire to obey God at any cost. I am so glad that I've stayed. I would have missed so many beautiful lessons (through suffering) and would have missed so many fulfilled promises from my Father (they've only just begun to come to fruition). It's been worth it to pass through the fire of testing. The reward truly is more than just.

My plant that is growing!

In the beginning of July, I went with Nelly to buy some plants. This woman LOVES her plants! I had no intentions of buying anything, but I went for the heck of it. While there, I decided to buy a single plant just to give my apartment a little bit of life. This unexpected excursion happened in the middle of one of those times where I was desperately crying out to God and feeling like I was at the end of my rope. I kept reminding Him, "This is my entire life! I've entrusted my entire life to You! I don't have a plan B. Please, don't let me be put to shame." It was a time where I was reminded of my desire for roots and permanence in Honduras which had so echoed in my spiritual ears while I was in Mexico. I wasn't thinking spiritually when I bought the plant, but as soon as I got in the car, God reminded me that as a child of God, every little thing done is holy. He reminded me of my desire for roots and permanence and of Isaiah 54:
"Sing, barren woman, you who never knew a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband," says the Lord. "Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strenthen your stakes. For you will spread out to the right and to the left; your descendants will dispossess nations and settle in their desolate cities. "Do not be afraid; you will not be put to shame..."

You don't get roots and permanence in one shot. It comes about by the planting of a seed. It comes about from commitment. It's as it says in Isaiah 60: They are the shoot I have planted, the work of my hands, for the display of my splendor. The least of you will become a thousand, the smallest a mighty nation. I am the Lord; in its time I will do this swiftly. It comes about through daily watering and a daily choice to nurture something growing. It comes about through faithfulness in the little things and a choice to wait for the roots to take hold and the fruit to spring forth. God has known what the plant of my life was going to be and how it was going to grow since before I was born. He planted seeds that He has been bringing to fruition year after year since my birth. Life is like a treasure hunt to find what He's hidden for me.

The greatest lesson I've been learning since I last updated has just been to rest in Him. Sometimes, I reach a point where I'm telling God, "I'm so exhausted. Oh Daddy, I am so empty. There is just nothing left. I'm so tired." And His loving yet direct response is, "So, rest, Sarah. It's not that difficult." It's easy in ministry and life in general to reach a place where we feel like we are stuck under the thumb of someone else, that we have to keep giving even when there is nothing left because someone "needs" us. I have learned that there are times when I go to God exhausted, and He fills me up, giving me the compassion, patience, and mercy to keep giving even when I've reached the end of myself. But, there are other times when I go to God, and He says, "Sarah, you've given this person or this situation enough. You have served enough. Right now, you need to let it go and rest." And, if I continue to force help, if I continue to give out of obligation or out of people pleasing or because I somehow believe I'm so special that the person must need me, I am completely out of the will of God and am not only exhausting myself further but also am becoming the obstacle for the growth of that person. I have to rest.

Something that struck me about the book, The Supernatural Ways of Royalty, was a lesson from the story of Lot's wife. The author explains that God let him know that Lot and his family were the salt preserving Sodom and Gomorrah. They had a mantle of intercession for those cities and that people. Their holiness as children of God preserved those cities for a time. But, when God was done, and God was ready to judge and show His glory through the destruction of a disobedient people, He called Lot and his family to physically leave and to give up that mantle of intercession and preservation. When Lot's wife turned around, she was disobediently refusing to let go of the ministry that God had given her for a time. Her refusal to let go of that ministry killed her, and she turned into a prophetic symbol of what she had been--salt, preserving a wicked people.

Oftentimes, especially for pastors and missionaries, a love of the ministry can take the place of our first love--God. The love of our own call can cause us to lose sight of the priority of seeking God and His presence first. The love of our own call can cause us to miss the opportunity to release others into their calling or can cause us to miss the truth (just as my friendship with Raúl teaches me on a daily basis) that we need the rest of the Body of Christ. And the result of this type of idolatry can be tragic. Yes, God does call us to be missionaries and to be salt and to be light--but He calls us first to be intimate with Him. He is the Vine. We are the branches. How can we be useful as branches if we are not connected deeply to the Vine and abiding in the presence of God and submerged in the movements of the Holy Spirit? There is a time for everything, and this is a time when I'm learning what it says in Exodus 14:14: The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.

And in the midst of being still, there is always worship. Regardless of how we feel--whether we feel worthy or capable or lazy or whatever, God is always worthy to be honored and worshipped. The greatest way we can move forward in our spiritual walk when we're in a time of rest or a time when we've reached the end of ourselves is to take the step of faith to worship. It's as Bill Johnson indicates in the book I'm currently reading, Hosting the Presence:
The people who are people of worship, regardless of circumstances, will become fruitful in ways beyond reason. Anyone can get happy after the miracle has come. Show me someone who celebrates before the answer, and I'll show you someone who is about to experience the answer. This is the nature of faith--it looks ahead and lives accordingly. (125-126).
All my love,
Sarah