Small Steps of Faithfulness

Hello All,
Though the political situation remains up in the air in many respects, I have been mostly unaffected. The only encounter I've had with protesters was about a week ago when I was on my way home from giving an English class at night. I was alone in the car and was on the only stretch of main road that leads from the city to my home. Suddenly, traffic was at a standstill as a burning tractor trailer stretched almost entirely across the road. There was yelling and various men with rocks and covered faces commanding control of the streets. But as God is always faithful with me, He provided a quick solution. There was another route to my house through back roads, but I would've had to turn around to go back into the city and go by back roads through a sketchy neighborhood. I've done it before, and it wouldn't have been a problem except for the state of traffic. I called my husband trying to figure out what to do. He no sooner mentioned calling our friend Alex for help when Alex suddenly knocked on my window. He told me to follow him as he was going to ask the protesters to let me through. He has a special kind of favor on his life in dealing with certain populations of people. And, they did let me through with no problems. So, the concerns in coming back to Honduras that I was facing in December have really been pretty unnecessary and minimal.

January and February are always hectic months for me as we have to file reports with the Honduran government to account for our non-profit's activities. And, February is when the school year begins. So, my days have been full of registering kids in school, buying school supplies, and doing the non-profit's banking. This year, we will be supporting Estefanny as previously mentioned. She will be studying in a private high school where she can complete two school years in one. In addition to Stef, we will be helping Kristian, a 19-year-old who is from our neighborhood. He comes from a family with quite a few children and limited resources. Raúl has known him since he was very young and actually gave him Sunday school classes. He will be studying in the same private high school where we've had Josuan previously. Since it is also our desire to nurture young people in their interests and in their callings, we are also supporting a young man named Brayan from our neighborhood. He plays drums in his church, and music is his passion. His desire is to be able to use that passion to serve God in ministry and missions. So, we will have him studying in a music conservatory to better develop his gifts. Antonio, a young man who we supported last year who graduated from high school, plans to continue his studies with some vocational computer classes to prepare to start university this year or next year depending on when they accept new students. The current plan for Toñito, as we call him, is for him to come live in the room we rent and work with Raúl as he studies. As we've done for others in the past.

The small group in our home is going well. Each week, we eat dinner together and take some time to talk and laugh. We also discuss a biblical or ministerial topic and pray for missionaries. This month, we've been talking about boundaries and how to guard our hearts in healthy ways. So far, we've been able to get closer to some of the people in the group and make ourselves more available for giving some of the young people advice.

In the mean time, I've greatly been enjoying a missionary women's Bible study. We're studying the book, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, by Peter Scazzero, and the time I spend with these ladies is life-giving. It is so nice to be around people of the same culture who are serving in similar ways and can understand many of the same difficulties. I've made new friends through this group and feel so welcomed by them. Raúl and I actually watched the Super Bowl with a new friend and her husband. I was encouraged to see how well Raúl got along and was able to connect with her husband--a North American. Hopefully, that's a relationship that can be developed more in the future. I think it'd be such a good thing for Raúl to have a male friend from my culture who is also in ministry. It's amazing the difference that community can make to my overall morale and viewpoint. In being able to belong in these two groups, I am also better embracing who I am and how God made me even when that is different than those around me.

 Raúl's green card is still in process. We're still waiting on the approval of the first step, and there is no deadline in sight for when it will finally come through. But, there is nothing more we can do but wait.

Personally, I feel like this season is one of preparation and stabilization. I am enjoying the journey and value even the small ways that we move forward in life and in ministry, knowing that the obedience we display today will determine our fruitfulness tomorrow. And, right now, my heart's desire once again is just to love well each person God places in front of me even amidst my own smallness.

All of my love,
Sarah

Finding a Rhythm

Hello All,

I am happy to be starting a new year. I am back in Honduras following a great trip back to the States. It was so nice to be with family and to recharge. While I was in the States, Honduras held its presidential elections.The main two opponents were Salvador Nasralla and the current president, Juan Orlando Hernandez. As is usually the case in politics, nothing is simple. The Honduran constitution does not allow presidents to run for re-election. However, Juan Orlando with the blessing of some judicial officials ran again. When Juan Orlando first announced this--which was similar to the same move that former president, Mel Zelaya, made in 2009 resulting in his ousting--, I was surprised by the overall calm in the nation. I would've expected backlash in that moment, but the response was subdued. In an effort to beat Hernandez, the other two main parties joined forces. Salvador Nasralla became the major opponent, but he was backed and managed by Mel Zelaya.

When the election results were first being announced on a preliminary basis, it showed Nasralla as the winner with a steady lead. Over the next few days, no further announcements were made. Suddenly, it was released that the computer system used for tallying votes had malfunctioned, and when the system came back on, Nasralla was no longer winning. Rather, Hernandez had the steady lead. What ensued were weeks of mass protests and looting, commentary and observations by international election organizations like the European Union. There was evidence for concern that the election had been rigged or that there was some tampering. People were outraged.

All of this was going on while I was in the States. It was scary to hear about protests happening just the neighborhood down from ours and see the pictures of such widespread destruction from the protests and looting. It was unsure if I would be able to fly back or not mainly because international flights had been shut down in another major city, and protesters were often blocking the roads I'd need to return to my house. However, a few more events took place once again taking the situation in another direction.

First, in a very mysterious helicopter crash, Juan Orlando's sister was announced to have been killed. Just a couple of days later, the electoral body's authorities announced that Hernandez was the winner. Around this time, Hernandez' government announced a nightly curfew to prevent any more violence in the streets. It started as a 6pm to 6am ban on being in the streets, but it was amended a few times and eventually totally revoked. During that time, it was suggested by one of the international election observation organizations that Honduras should have an entirely new election--it is usually unheard of for this type of organization to make that kind of suggestion for fear of appearing to meddle. In an effort to get more international support, Nasralla met with the US State Department to present evidence of election fraud and ask for the United States' involvement and support. Because of the aid that the US provides to Honduras, the US government has a lot of pull over what happens here. The US State Department, however, decided to back Hernandez while many US Congress members were calling for new elections in Honduras. With the holidays coming on, things seemed to settle down, and they settled enough for me to return.

Since I've been back, there have still been protests, but they've mainly been in San Pedro Sula. There are still rumors of more protests and also rumors of what Mel Zelaya is doing behind the scenes, but so far, in being here, life has pretty much gone on as normal. It is unclear as to what is going to happen now politically, but Hernandez is set to take his position officially later this month, and it's expected to see some protests throughout our city and the nation.

Apart from that situation, life upon returning has reached a new rhythm. It is always very hard to leave my family, and I usually have a week or so where I have to emotionally adjust. But, I can say that I am slowly finding a routine and putting some new goals into place. I'm excited about that. It was very hard to find any kind of rhythm as a married couple because of getting sick and also because of my being in the US for a month and a half. Little by little, though, we're finding our pace and developing our life together.

This month is always busy as the Honduran school year is starting and because of yearly reports our non-profit here has to make for the Honduran government. It is still unclear as to how many students we'll be supporting this year in their education, but one young person we know we'll be helping is Estefanny, Josuan's sister. She is interested in attending a private school where she can finish two school years in a little over one year and graduate early. I'm excited for her. Over the years, Stef has matured greatly, and she's my best example of fruitfulness in my life. She loves Jesus and has such a personal relationship with Him. I look forward to see the amazing directions God has for her and her future.

Josuan did manage to finish ninth grade last year, and he is currently working for Raúl and renting his own room. We never know how long he'll be around or what he'll do next, but it's always a relief when he's off of the streets. Jorge is now living in a transition home run by the same organization that runs the orphanage where he lived all of his life. He is continuing his studies and has been reunited with many of his lifelong buddies. We also keep in touch throughout the week.

We will be starting our discipleship small group at our house this month and inducting our new board of directors. It's hard to believe it, but we've had the non-profit legally in operation for four years. God has been faithful even in our smallest beginnings. I am also making more of an effort to develop and use the gifts that God has placed in my life. Part of that has been starting WorshipU, Bethel Church's online course for better developing as a worshiper and worship leader. I've also been trying to write more regularly and reflecting more rather than just updating. I do that on a new blog site I've already posted here, which is benchchats.blogspot.com . 

This is the first year in a long time where life seems clearer, and I can breathe with a greater sense of purpose. I believe that the foggy pruning years I've had for a while have been leading up to a season of blooming now. Thank you all for the continued love, prayers, and support.

All of My Love,
Sarah

Boundaries in Ministry

Happy New Year to all!

If you're interested in reading some of my thoughts on the importance of boundaries in ministry, you can head over to my other blog, Bench Chats: http://benchchats.blogspot.com/2018/01/the-paradox-of-compassion-without.html


All of My Love,
Sarah

Love Invading Darkness

Hello All,

"If you've ever known the love of God, you know it's nothing but reckless and it's nothing but raging. Sometimes it hurts to be loved, and if it doesn't hurt it's probably not love, may be infatuation. I think a lot of American people are infatuated with God, but we don't really love Him, and they don't really let Him love them. Being loved by God is one of the most painful things in the world, it's also the only thing that can bring us salvation and it's like everything else that is really wonderful, there's a little bit of pain in it, little bit of hurt." -- R. Mullins


The silence this past year and even in 2016 hasn’t been an accident. It hasn’t been due to busyness or distraction. It’s because I’ve been processing. I like to say what I mean, clearly. And, in these years, I haven’t even known what I mean. I break the silence now because I feel like I’ve reached a culmination—not easy answers or even a conclusion—but a kind of graduation. And I want to be honest about that.


This year, I have been so blessed. Jesus has proven Himself so faithful in so many faith-stretching ways that I just marvel, especially financially. But, this year has also had non-stop undertones of loss even in the midst of joy, and my heart has been in the grips of that pain not seeing a way out. I’m just now seeing some light to walk towards, and it’s in embracing His presence even in the pain.


This year started with the excitement of planning a wedding which, having gotten engaged in November, was expected. But, it also started with many unexpected difficulties. My idea of what ministry was going to look like this year, who I’d be partnering with, who my dependable friends were, etc. turned upside down in a bizarre matter of months. It’s always been hard for me to make friends though I’m a 100% kind of person. My INFJ personality probably hasn’t helped in that realm, but cultural differences here only add to the obstacles for me. For someone so loyal and so quick to invest so wholly in someone, friendship losses always take a huge toll on my heart. Working through those losses I still can’t explain has proven very challenging for me this year even in the midst of much joy in getting married.


In January, Raúl’s aunt died. She was so young and left behind an adopted daughter. She’d had many stomach-related health problems. But, she seemed to be improving. However, being hospitalized for a long time led to pneumonia and sepsis, and her death was and continues to be very hard on his family. That same month, my grandfather had an unsuccessful surgery to remove a cancerous tumor in his lung. That surgery proved to be more complicated than anticipated, and for a few weeks, everything hung in the balance. Though he recovered, he has been in his own ongoing fight through chemo and radiation and just weakness. The unknown has been breathing down our necks this whole year.


Planning a wedding was fun in many creative ways, but it was also an adventure in loss. We were able to have so many nice details that we probably never would have been able to afford in the States, but I also had to come to terms with cultural aspects of Honduras that I would’ve never wanted or imagined at my wedding growing up as a little girl. And, having so few people come from the States left me telling Raul often, “This is going to be a nice wedding, but this isn’t me.” Part of that is because it needed to be a combination of the two of us, and we were in his country, not mine. Raúl is much more social than I am, so the wedding was much larger than I ever would’ve wanted for myself. It was also hard to come to terms with my grandparents and other relatives not being there. And, those losses are no one’s fault. Being married to someone from another country is always going to bring about trade-offs. But it also brings about unexpected rewards. Just because my life doesn’t look like what I imagined it would as a kid doesn’t mean that it’s bad. It just means that there will be losses to process.


Overall, the wedding, though not “me” necessarily was such a display of God’s love. It felt like a mission in and of itself. I can’t count how many people—some of whom I’d never met—came up to me afterward and said, “I have never been to a better wedding. I have never felt so much love in one place. The way you and Raúl love each other, the way your family loves you, was just inspiring.” For a country where marriage often isn’t considered sacred and extramarital affairs are the norm and where the institution of the family is threatened, being an example of Jesus’ love one to another was priceless. We made it a point to have a time of worship, something that I had committed to do years ago because I knew that I wanted God’s tangible presence at my wedding. And, He was there. I can also say that in the midst of feeling so much rejection in relationships this year, our wedding was so restoring because of the friends who came down. My family’s sacrifice in coming, and the service and closeness of my friends Cheryl and Beth and Beth’s husband, Chris, was so reassuring that I am loved, that I’m not too weird to be worthy of friendship, that I am not alone. They’ll never know the depth of the love I felt from them when I needed it most.


These months after the wedding have been a slow-trodden journey not because of my marriage—if anything, Raúl has kept me afloat in many ways just because he remains, listens, and fights for my way out of darkness. But, it’s been many months of wondering why I’m here in Honduras, wondering if there has been any point to my being here for the last six years, and fighting the lie that God sent me here to be rejected. I’ve felt like I’ve lacked a purpose, and I’ve felt like I don’t have the strength to get over the pain of rejection again. It’s not something that you expect from a happy newlywed, but it’s been my reality just the same. But I have been learning. Those lessons are for another post for another time, but I can say that a lack of boundaries play a large part in the pain and rejection I’ve received over the years.


Even so, these months have been baby steps forward. Taking risks in new friendships. Just taking one step closer to Jesus when all I want to do is hide. Once more giving up pain and confusion into His able hands. And, I was feeling new hope rising in September. Meeting new people was a breath of fresh air and a reminder that there is value in who I am even if who I am puzzles others.


Last month, I finished reading Loren Cunningham’s Daring to Live on the Edge, and it was a book that I took the time to digest because it challenged me to return to where I started. His testimonies of God’s great provision and attention to detail and what a joy it is to live an adventure of dependence on the Father were like life being breathed into my lungs. I told God, “I never wanted to have a normal life. I feel like I’ve been getting comfortable, and I don’t like it. I want the adventure. I want to embrace the uncertainties. I want to trust that You’re good and worthy of my dependence.” And, I looked for ways to be more extravagant in generosity. I gave until we were stretched thin. I believe He responded in His own unorthodox way.


At the end of September, I started having symptoms of a mosquito-borne illness. I wasn’t sure if it was dengue, chikungunya, or zika because they have similar symptoms—fever, headache, eye pain upon movement, joint/muscle pain. I just rested and drank liquids. Initially, other than being tired, I was all right and fully expected to just pass the illness with no problems. But, soon, my fever just wouldn’t go down even with medicine. And I was getting weaker. Raúl took me to the public clinic around the time that I’d already had a fever five straight days. They told me to drink fluids and take Tylenol. They also sent for me to get my blood platelets checked. Dengue usually causes your blood platelets to lower. My platelets were low, and the clinic gave me IV fluids and a shot. That night, my fever was at 103 and climbing, and I had already taken all the medicine I could. Raúl panicked and took me to the private, more expensive hospital. Initially, the doctor said if I’d had a fever for six days, I should probably be admitted. He gave me IV fluids and checked my platelets again. My platelets were actually improved. And, the doctor basically told me that I had to be confused about having a fever for so long, that I was remembering wrong, and should go home. That was infuriating! All that night, at home, I had a high fever, delusional nightmares, and extreme stomach pain and acid reflux. I got up around 4 to go to the bathroom and knew something was wrong. By the time I got Raúl up and told him we had to go to the hospital, I was violently throwing up and so weak.


When I got to the same private hospital, there was a new ER doctor on call, and he immediately said I’d have to be admitted. That was a relief in a way that someone was finally recognizing that I needed help, but it was also scary. I haven’t had many good experiences with the medical system in Honduras, and I’d never been hospitalized before. I was hooked up to IVs and a monitor. The next day, they sent me down for an ultrasound. My liver and spleen were enlarged, and there was a free-floating liquid seen around my organs. By this time, my mom had already decided to come down, sensing that things were serious, and knowing she was coming was my relief. Raúl was amazing and continues to be in caring for me. But, we’re a newly married couple; he still doesn’t know my medical allergies. And, it was scary for both of us that if something serious happened, he’d have to make the big decisions by himself. He never would have slept or eaten if my mom wouldn’t have come. With her caring for me, he could get some relief.


After many tests, my doctors (who were great) told me that I had viral hepatitis and that my liver enzyme levels were 10 times the normal. My doctor said, “You’re very lucky you’re young.” They weren’t 100% sure if the viral hepatitis was caused by dengue, typhoid fever, or malaria since all of those could cause similar symptoms. Eventually, after a process of elimination of other exams, they settled on dengue. I really felt like I was going to die at one point. I just felt like my body wasn’t working, and I started talking to God and preparing myself to die if that’s what it was going to come down to. The worst night was when I had two reactions to two medications back to back. I’d been fighting a fever continually while in the hospital. It was one of the reasons they couldn’t let me go home. They tried a new medicine in order to give my liver a break from Tylenol. But, I immediately had a horrible reaction. It was late at night, and Raúl was with me. I felt like I was just drugged. My whole body felt like it weighed a million pounds and was being sucked into the earth. My brain was foggy, and I was slurring my words when I spoke. Raúl told the nurses, and they said, “Oh, that’s just a side effect.” At this point, I wasn’t connected to the monitor, and I thought, “Well, if this drug makes me stop breathing, no one is going to know.” So, I told Raúl he needed to keep an eye on my breathing overnight. He slept nearly all night sitting on a stool with his head on the bed, and I woke up several times to see him praying through the night. They had also transitioned me to take an antibiotic by mouth, which I took the following morning while I still felt drugged up. Within an hour, I was throwing it up. All I could do at that point was lie in bed and cry. I really felt like that was it…my body just wasn’t going to take anymore. Miraculously though, once the reactions wore off, I was doing much better. I was hospitalized four days total.


When we decided to go to the private hospital, I never expected to be hospitalized that long. I also decided to go there because I felt like what I had was serious, and I’ve been in the public hospitals here. They can be such a nightmare. They are much much more affordable, but they are a nightmare. As the days began to pass, and we started getting bills, Raúl and I initially tried to think of how we were going to pay this bill that kept accumulating. And, there was no option of a payment plan. It had to be paid in full the day I was to be discharged. We finally just looked at each other knowing we couldn’t do it and decided to pray. We confessed our need for God’s healing and provision. We renounced our own human efforts at provision, and we told God we trusted Him as our Father to care for us. And He did with abundance!


Our friend, Cheryl, made a donation page, and money began to pour in from some of the most unexpected places. We were so overwhelmed. Honestly, that financial provision and the outpouring of love were so healing for me. Seeing messages from people I hadn’t talked to in years, people from high school and college and co-workers of my parents was just such a reassurance and redemption for a year’s worth of rejection. People I never would have expected to give me a second thought made such sacrificial donations that I just felt so much light flooding the darkness of my little life.


 This past year, with so many cultural differences and nearly no friendships with people of my own culture (though I’m seeking those out now!), I have constantly felt like an outsider, like I can’t find anyone who understands or values who I am (other than Raúl), and like I couldn’t handle feeling like an enemy of the Honduran culture. A lot of that comes from being an introvert in an extroverted culture. Some of it comes from being someone who pushes for depth in relationships instead of settling for superficial interactions. Much of it comes from the damage done to my heart in a culture where almost no one keeps their word as a lifestyle. For someone who so values honesty and dependability, being let down by so many people who claim to be like Jesus was just so devastating to me, and it has been building for the six years I’ve been here. And the message I’ve widely received is, “You need to change. Why can’t you be more like us? You’re weird. If you would be more like us, we could like you.” So, having so many people come out of the woodworks of my past to send me encouragement and to believe in my little life as valuable was a hand that just snatched me from that darkness of rejection. We also had a few very special friends here who were so sacrificial in giving of their time and finances to help us in our time of need. We treasure those people because they are so rare here.


Days after leaving the hospital, with my defenses so low, I got a nasty case of strep and broke out into an itchy rash all over my body. My doctor suspected the dengue rash that appears at the end of the illness, but when we had the test done for dengue antibodies, it came back negative! So, now, we have no explanation for really any of the health issues I’ve had for almost three weeks. My liver levels also haven’t been improving as desired, but I take into consideration that I had to take strong antibiotics for the strep and a steroid for the rash which definitely didn’t give my poor liver a break. My doctor wanted to start running tests for auto-immune diseases like lupus, but I just didn’t have peace about it especially since I was improving in every other area. So, I talked to my doctor, and we’ve decided to wait on any more tests or medicines just to give my liver a chance to recuperate and my body to rest.


 Currently, the strep is nearly cleared up. The rash is gone. Because my defenses are so low, I’m now fighting some chest congestion. But, I’m not taking medications to give my liver a chance to recover without having to filter more medication. I’m set to see the doctor again on Thursday. I have been eating normally and while I have to be very careful about resting and not relapsing by overworking my body, I am regaining strength, can now walk around some by myself, bathe myself, etc.


 I have no idea what’s going on with my body. I have faith that I’m improving, and though I can’t explain it, I have a general faith that this is the closing of a season of insecurity and frustration in my life. Instead of worrying so much about what I’m doing and if it’s good enough and how to be useful in a culture where I don’t seem to fit, I feel value in just being alive...in seeing who I am and who God created me to be as something of value and purpose no matter where I am and no matter how others respond to that. That’s a big victory for me.


 We still so appreciate your prayers, and we have been so grateful for the words that have invaded Heaven on my behalf. Your generosity and compassion have impacted me not just in this health crisis but in my crisis of the soul this year.


 All my love,
Sarah

Our Love Story

Merry Christmas!

*Disclaimer in advance: This is probably going to be a long story and thus, long post. But, because it’s obviously one of my favorite stories, I’m going to write it anyway. If you want to read it all, you are more than welcome.

When I was about eight-years-old, I had a dream where I was talking to God in a blank, open space. I looked up at my Papa God and said, “God, I want to see my husband.” So, Jesus took my hand, smiled, and opened some kind of door. That dark blank space transformed into a warm, sunny place. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew it was somewhere far from where I lived. And that’s when Jesus pointed him out. I couldn’t really discern the details of his face, but he had a big smile. His hair and skin were darker than mine, and he was climbing a tree. It’s not often that I remember my dreams, but that one has stuck with me since I was a kid.

I first met Raúl Ramírez when I was 18, my second time in Honduras in August of 2007. My family and I had come on a short-term trip, and Alvin Anderson was showing us the bunkhouse Raúl and a family friend were building for future teams. He was down below us in the foundation of the bunkhouse working with a mess of cement (building the apartment I would later live in). At that point, though I’d had some Spanish classes in high school, I was lucky if I could say and understand the most basic of words. Raúl doesn’t remember this meeting. I can’t blame him, though, with how many North American and Danish chicks go through Alvin and Nelly’s house on a regular basis.

The second time Raúl and I interacted was two years later. He doesn’t remember this meeting either. In the summer of 2009, I was again in Honduras for my summer vacation from college. I had become friends with Raúl’s brother who worked for Alvin. He had suggested that we walk down to see Raúl’s business. Raúl started his own business in 2006, selling oil for cars on the side of the road on a piece of property that he bought. (He later started changing and repairing tires and then having an inventory of used tires of every size to sell. His business is now triple or quadruple what it was when I first saw it.) Business was slow when we found him, so I sat down and tried to talk. My Spanish was definitely better than it was in 2007, but I was still learning. Raúl is always outgoing and friendly, so he was quick to make conversation. He was trying to tell me where he was from, but I didn’t capture that he was trying to tell me the formal name of a place. I thought it was some vocabulary word I just didn’t know. Patience isn’t Raúl’s strong point, so he just ended up yelling, “Tatumbla!” at me. I was trying to understand, but I was at a loss. When Raúl’s brother came back over to sit down, Raúl just looked at him and said, “I can’t talk to her. She can’t communicate in Spanish,” which, of course, I did understand.

Other than that encounter, we only spent time together that summer one other time. I was walking in our neighborhood alone in the evening, and Raúl was headed out with a friend to take one of the ladies who cooked for the teams, home. Nubia, the cook, lives out in the middle of nowhere. As Raúl passed me, he said, “Hey, come with us!” So, I did. We ended up staying a while at Nubia’s house as she insisted in typical Honduran hospitality that we stay for tortillas with cheese and fruit popsicles. As we were going to town on our popsicles, Raúl and his friend were asking me questions. Raúl slyly asked me, “Would you ever marry a Honduran?” And, I answered that I was willing to marry whomever God had for me regardless of where he was from. With a grin, Raúl quipped, “Well, that’s what I need then, a girl just like you.” He does actually remember that moment.

When I left Honduras that summer, Raúl, always the gift-giver (as is very common in Honduran culture among men and women alike), gave me a watch. Ironically enough, that summer, God really highlighted the verse in Zechariah 4:10 that says, “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin…” And, I can’t help but wonder if God didn’t smile as Raúl gave me a gift symbolic of time.

The following summer, I again, returned to Honduras. Raúl and I didn’t interact much that summer either. But, at the end of the summer, he again gave me a gift—a giant, cubic zirconium ring. Do you ever wonder if God enjoys His own foreshadowing? I happen to think He’s the best story teller there is.

That same year, I went back to Honduras for New Year’s. I honestly don’t remember seeing Raúl at all during that trip. But, after I went back to the States, he got my phone number from his brother and started texting me. While they were sweet messages, I wasn’t really sure what he was after. Then, he called. If any of you have learned a second language, you know that speaking/hearing it over the phone is so much more difficult than in person, especially when you aren’t too familiar with the voice. Raúl also uses a lot of slang, so I had the hardest time trying to understand him. But, at the same time, it was a ray of sunshine in my day every time he contacted me because it made my homesick heart feel connected to Honduras. After a while, though, because he was calling me “princess [of God, because if you’re going to try to hit on a lady as a Christian, if you use the “of God,” if she corners you on your motives, you can always say you call everyone that…I’m on to this trick]” and just being overly sweet when we didn’t really know each other, I finally asked him what his motives were. And, the messages stopped without a reply. Around this time, Raúl’s previous relationship, which had become very tumultuous over the years, had ended in a damaging way, and I think he was just looking for a refuge. But, God wasn’t joking with that gift of time.

One night, after I’d already bought my one-way plane ticket to move to Honduras, Raúl’s brother called me. He was out with Raúl and some other friends. I was excitedly explaining about the one-way ticket, and Raúl’s brother was telling everyone he was with. I could hear Raúl yelling in the background. He said, “Tell Sarah that when she comes, we’re going to be great friends!” I laughed, probably said “okay,” and thought, “Yeah, I really doubt that.”

When I moved to Honduras months later, I lived in a refuge home for teenage girls that Alvin Anderson had started under his ministry, Manos Extendidas. That is where I planned to live long-term in order to help the ladies who lived there and took care of the girls. Raúl had already established himself as their big brother and came by often to help around the house or just to visit. Raúl was around a lot. He would stop in at the house late at night, and I’d serve him some food and just listen while he talked. He helped me paint the room I was planning on making my own. And, we soon became the great friends that he said we would be. One day, the ladies in charge of the home, Tía Sally and Tía Sara, pulled me aside and told me that Alvin had decided to close the home. I had only been living there two months! And I had just filed for five-year Honduran residency. Because Tía Sara is from Nicaragua, they planned to start a ministry in Nicaragua and invited me to come. But, while I loved them and the sense of family I had with them, I knew my call was to Honduras. That night, as I lay down to go to sleep, I desperately told God, “Please don’t take away my Honduran family. Please let me be able to stay with my Honduran family.” The next day, Raúl invited me to a big family function. His grandmother was having a birthday. So, I went, and the uncles all wanted to know which brother I was going to marry. Sometimes, God answers prayers in ways we would never expect.





Our first picture together, Christmas of 2011





I later moved to the apartment at Alvin’s house, and Raúl moved into the refuge home. Because I still had a key, I’d often come down and wash his dirty dishes or hand wash all of his laundry when he wasn’t home. Months before, because I was lonely and had so much time on my hands, I had started visiting his business, sometimes staying the whole day in the midst of tires and grease and burly men reading the newspaper. I was really lacking a direction in ministry even as I was fulfilling all of my duties as Alvin’s office assistant. So, I just decided to serve, and the person I saw who needed to be served was Raúl. His breakup had left him utterly devastated. I wasn’t interested in him romantically at all because he was always a clown. I just didn’t see him as someone serious about life or goals or anything. But, I could see that despite his silly demeanor, he was in a lot of pain. And, I didn’t see anyone constantly seeking him out to offer hope. I could tell that he really loved God, but his heart was broken, and his idea of his future had died when his relationship did. So, Raúl became my unofficial, first real mission field in Honduras. I was teaching myself to bake just as a personal project, so I’d bake something and take it down to the business to share. For months, Raúl took me to all kinds of family functions and included me in outings with friends sometimes. At that time, all of his brothers who can drive, drove the family around on motor bikes. Any time we went anywhere with his family, he was territorially adamant that I was to be his passenger. We were only friends, and we didn’t even talk about anything deep or serious.

I first started to notice that Raúl might have felt something for me oddly enough when I was robbed. I’d had the naive habit at the apartment of not double locking the door. So, one day, when various people had been milling around Alvin’s house, I entered to find various things were missing. Nothing too sentimentally important, but things that could be resold for some cash. I mentioned it to someone at the house, and well, word traveled fast. Within five minutes, Raúl roared up the hill on the motor bike and frantically barraged me with questions to know if I was okay. Apparently, someone had left out of the gossip that I hadn’t been present when the things were stolen.









Raúl's birthday, May 2012






This occasion was followed by the time one of his brothers had a motor bike accident. He’s the oldest and kind of the patriarch in some respects. He’s also Raúl’s business partner. So, Raúl was really worried when he received word that Nahum was being taken to the hospital. He came up to the house before he went to the hospital. He told us what was going on and picked up a jacket. Because I was also friends with Nahum, as Raúl was leaving, I asked if I could go with him. And he said, “That’s actually the only reason I came here. I didn’t want to go by myself, and I wanted to you to come with me.” Nahum ended up having a broken leg, but he recovered well.

A few months later, I was at the refuge home with a few of Raúl’s friends. He had randomly started talking about wanting to get married sooner than later, and we were all picking on him since he didn’t even have a girlfriend or a prospect. He finally got fed up with the picking, looked up at me, and said, “I’m going to marry you!” Well, my face got nice and red, so I just had to hide my face and move on. I was not expecting that. I also wasn’t really sure how I felt about him. Somewhere during that time, my dad had already made the comment over the phone to the effect of, “Raúl seems like a good guy; you might want to give him a chance.” But, I just wasn’t interested. Raúl was a good guy and always quick to help and serve me. But, he was all over the place and emotionally, distant and disconnected. He wasn’t really what I had in mind.

But, a couple months later, he took a few of us to see his spiritual mother, Sister Sonia. He had become a Christian largely through Nahum’s witness but also through his ex-girlfriend and her family. The person who really discipled him, however, in prayer and in the gifts of the Spirit, was Sister Sonia. Every time you visit her, she always has a word prepared. So, when we went in to see her, she took some time to read from the Bible. Then, she wanted to pray. Raúl, before having the rug ripped out from under him by his previous relationship, had been a constant prayer warrior. He would wake up every morning at 4 a.m. to participate in an intercessory prayer group with several other young people and Sister Sonia. And she would take that group to lay hands on sick people and pray or to pray in homes of needy people. I’d heard a lot of stories of how spiritual Raúl had been before he got his heart broken, but I’d never seen it for myself. But, Sister Sonia immediately brought him around to each of us to pray for us. I’d never seen someone pray with such authority. And, as he gave me a word, I remember thinking, “This is the kind of man I want to marry.” Over the course of that day, Sister Sonia told us both that God had something very special for both of us. At the end of our visit, she prayed for Raúl and prophesied about his call to be a missionary to the nations. As we walked out of her house, my mind was racing. What had just happened? It was like God gave me a very quick glimpse into who Raúl really was and who he was called to be. I couldn’t unsee it. And, from that one encounter, my feelings toward him changed.





A trip to Junquillo with Mami Nelly



All of this was around March 2012. You would’ve thought that it was simple—he seemed to like me. I liked him. But, he had been really hurt. He is the kind of guy who is extremely loyal, so when he starts a relationship with someone, he already knows he wants to marry that person. Letting go of the hurt and learning to trust any woman was proving very hard for him to do. And, rather than dive deeper into God’s heart to receive his healing, he was slowly distancing himself from God’s love. He still loved God and never stopped believing in Him. But, he had a lot of emotions to grapple with. The first example of what it meant to be a Christian had come from his previous girlfriend and her family, and they, too, were slipping away from God’s path. He was struggling to forgive, and he was adamant that he didn’t want to get involved with me before he was fully healed. But, he also didn’t really know where to start.

While I greatly appreciated his protection in not wanting to play with my heart, he had already extended a possibility to me, and my heart was already involved. For two years, it was a great battle with myself and often with God. I already loved him, and I believed that God was working on his heart, but sometimes, it seemed so hopeless. So, I just kept running to God. I’ve always wanted to love well, and I’m a very stubborn person—to the point that I won’t walk away from someone until God tells me that it’s time. Every time I ran to God wanting to write Raúl off because I was tired of waiting, He would give me a verse or send someone (often total strangers) to give me a word. It was often a week-by-week, month-by-month decision to still be a friend and to still love like Jesus even when receiving nothing in return. There were clear boundaries. We definitely weren’t friends with any benefits, and Raúl maintained his emotional distance to the point that I sometimes wondered if he felt we were friends at all. But, he would still come around for a visit, for some advice (or a lecture on my part), and was always willing to do a favor. But, we weren’t going anywhere in the relationship department. By that point, the outside input and comments from other people were just exhausting. Some days everyone was rooting for Raúl and expecting me to stick around, and some days, he was the enemy, and everyone thought I was foolish for still caring about him.






Christmas 2012






The breaking point for us wasn’t something I ever would’ve expected. In the midst of waiting on God to move in that situation, I wasn’t going to stay stagnant in other areas of my life. I was still pursuing what I felt like God was calling me to—single or not. And that was around the time that I was involved in 21 de Octubre and meeting my kids. When Josuan came into my life due to that broken leg, it was Raúl who often picked me up at the hospital after I’d visited him. Raúl also stepped up and let him stay in his room for months. Josuan loved living with Raúl and told me that he was the kindest any man had ever been to Josuan. So, he was close and supportive in the way that he could be even if he thought I was crazy. As my adventure with my kids started speeding up, I tried to involve Raúl as much as possible—to keep Raúl from thinking the worst and also because I wanted a male protection. I knew that if I didn’t involve Raúl in the boys’ lives from the beginning, it’d be way too difficult to introduce him later. So, while we weren’t together, my boys knew from day one that Raúl was an important part of my life and heart. As I’ve previously mentioned, I never wanted to be a single mom and certainly not to teenage boys. I knew fully what it looked like, and I wrestled with God over it. But, I didn’t see any other options. I didn’t have anywhere else for them to go. And, Raúl really just wasn’t in a place spiritually where he was ready to handle my adventure with street boys. That was initially frustrating. But, I don’t regret any of it because God made Himself very real to me during that time. It was exhausting, but as He often reminded me, He was my Husband. He was my Provider, Protector, Leader, Counselor, Comfort, everything. In addition to the sweetness of learning what it looks like when God is your Husband, I also feel like God was emptying me of most (well, some) of my independent streak. I think that time really led to my appreciating more having Raúl now.

When I started renting a house and Marvin was living there, Raúl became wildly protective and constantly present. That, honestly, shocked me. After two years of trying to involve him but getting rejected, feeling loved but ignored and admired but forgotten by Raúl, his sudden interest took me off-guard. Quite frankly, I was tired of the waiting. I knew I was waiting on God, but I wondered if Raúl was ever going to deal with anything. Out of nowhere, he started sending me text messages telling me he loved me and doing everything he could to spend time with me. I still wasn’t buying it. And, by that point, I was going through so many situations with my kids that I didn’t know how to process it all. Raúl was so insistent, that I was just getting angry especially since I hadn’t seen a change in his walk with God. I knew the call of God on my life, and I knew what it would take for someone to walk that call out with me. While Raúl had a missions call and a call to work with young people, he wasn’t living it out. So, I mostly ignored him. He was so afraid that he’d missed his chance, but he was in full pursue mode. One evening, I had taken my kids to a church we hadn’t been to before. Raúl called and wanted to know where I was and if he could show up wherever I was. I had tried to get him to come with me to churches before, and he never would. I didn’t expect this time to be any different. But, he did come. I don’t think the pastor had even finished his altar call before Raúl was on his knees up front just sobbing as hard as he could. I didn’t react much to that encounter he had with God. I wanted to make sure this was the real deal. But, soon, I started to see changes. Subtle differences in his priorities. And, slowly, I began to have peace that this was a real reconciliation with God. By the time my dad was set to come visit me, Raúl wanted to ask his permission to date me. It seems silly since I was already 25 at that point, but I’d never had a boyfriend and just needed some guidance. Dad turned out to be my saving grace.

As I said, I was exhausted. I had been dealing with various teenage boys amidst drug relapses and lying and didn’t have much of a support system. I was teetering on the edge of burn-out every day, and I was so in need of restoring love. When Dad came, we talked about Raúl, and he basically told me that I needed to wait a bit more. I was too exhausted to make a God-led decision rather than an emotional decision. And, I had some emotional issues I needed to deal with first. While Raúl wasn’t excited about the idea of waiting more, he determined to stick around however long he needed to.



During Naomi's trip to Honduras in the summer of 2013




Raúl, his nephew (Enmanuel), and I at his dad's birthday dinner in January of 2014



My birthday during my dad and brother's visit in May of 2014


During those two months more that we waited, I proactively sought God and told Him that I wanted to deal with any fears or emotional issues that were going to be baggage in any relationship. And, it wasn’t long before He visited me and uprooted some lies in my past that had been lingering. With that encounter, I finally felt like I could breathe. I was still stressed to the max with my kids, but I wasn’t in constant inner turmoil in the valley of decision. So, after more than two years of being in love with him, on July 13, 2014, Raúl asked me to be his girlfriend, and I said yes.

The verse God gave me about our relationship was from Isaiah 27:
“In that day, sing about a fruitful vineyard. I, the Lord, will watch over it, watering it carefully. Day and night I will watch so no one can harm it. . . . The time is coming when Jacob’s descendants will take root. Israel will bud and blossom and fill the whole earth with fruit!”






Christmas 2014






It was not smooth sailing by any means. Raúl was thrown into the complicated role almost of a stepparent, and my kids did not make life easy for him. I told him when he asked me to be his girlfriend that I really felt like I was not in a place where I would be a good girlfriend because I was still overwhelmed with the season I was in with my kids. But, he didn’t care (at first, of course). Throw in our cultural differences, long history, polar opposite personalities, and all the outside pressure, and there were several times where I really thought we’d just call it quits. But over the past two years, I could often feel God watching over our relationship and fighting for it when we both weren’t so sure. And, God sent us some lovely people who have walked with us and counseled us and corrected us when we needed it most.




February of 2015 in Santa Lucía



January of 2015






Pictures from Mom and Naomi's trip to visit in October of 2015









November of 2015





Raúl's birthday in May of 2016


After too many conversations to count about marriage and getting engaged, Raúl had Alvin work as translator to ask my Dad for permission to ask me to marry him. He’d already had the ring since last year but just hadn’t worked up the nerve to talk to Dad. That same day, November 18, two days before I was supposed to fly out for this trip to the States, Raúl asked me to marry him. He was actually planning on asking me the following day, but he had brought the ring just in case. He really isn’t a planner. He’s the king of spontaneity. So, in true impulsive fashion, after we’d done some grocery shopping, he invited me to a fancy restaurant where we’d had one of our first dates. We’re not typically fancy people, and we weren’t dressed for the occasion. But, we were having fun together. We were enjoying people watching—especially the couple in front of us, sitting with perfect posture, dressed up and made up, smiling at all the right moments, and too shy to dig into the food that was sitting on their plates before them. And, I thought about how I was so blessed to know that I was sitting beside someone who knew me well, someone with whom I could completely be myself, and how I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world. I had ordered mashed potatoes, and I still have no idea if Raúl had our waiter slip the ring into the mashed potatoes, or if he put it in himself. At one point while we were eating, he said he wanted a bite of mashed potatoes. We normally share food, but this time, he was shoveling bites in at a surprising rate. When he finally gave the mashed potatoes back to me, there was really only one bite left, and my fork uncovered the ring. Raúl knew I didn’t want a big show in public. I’m not a fan of that kind of pressure. So, I held up the ring, he smiled, gave me a hug, and said, “Do you want to marry me?” And, I said yes. Nineteen years after the dream about my husband. Nine years and three months after our very first time meeting. Five years and two months after I’d moved to Honduras. Four years and eight months after Raúl had first exclaimed, “I’m going to marry you!” And two years and four months after we started dating. I’ll spare you most of the cliché morals of the story except to say that God loves the journey even more than He seems to love the destination. And, I’m thankful for how He’s taught me how to love and how He continues to teach me how to love well.

All of our love,
Raúl and Sarah

Be/loved

Have you ever watched a kid learning to walk? Pastor Edgar’s son, Daniel, is really capable of walking, and at one point, he got brave and started standing himself up to take those wobbly steps himself. But, at some point, when someone wasn’t watching, he took a tumble as all children learning to walk do, and since then, he’s been traumatized. He wants to be independent. He wants to kick his ball and toddle around, the drive to be free pushing him to shriek when he’s encumbered. But, he wants the assurance of an adult hand or an object of steadying. It’s the ultimate inner conflict, and every time he’s pushed to walk by himself and falls, it only reinforces the fear that walking means eating dirt.



I bring up Danielito because it’s the best visual I can give you for how this year has been for me. It’s true that this year has been all about transition and pruning. It’s true that little by little, God has been taking things off of my plate that had me constantly teetering on the edge of burn-out. But, I have felt like Daniel toddling after the elusive complete restoration I need. I have some major Type A personality tendencies. I’m very task-oriented, time sensitive, and organized. I live with a constant to-do list even if Honduran time has taught me to chill and be flexible about my expectations for deadlines and productivity. Thus, when I recognize a need within myself, I want to solve the problem and move on. Just as Josuan was when his leg was broken, I just want to will myself to heal NOW and be able to head off to the next mission. I’ve struggled for a long time with relating to God as a boss. I know in my head that He is a loving Father that wants to parent me, not employ me, but my driven personality often distorts my perception of who He is.



Just like a toddler, I’ve been pursuing freedom. Freedom from mistrust of the Church. Freedom from the weight of single motherhood. Freedom from all of the loss of the past three years. Freedom from the lingering of question of, “After I’ve fought for all of these, who is going to fight for me?” I’ve been pursuing restoration with all of my heart, and along the way, God placed people in my path from Dunamis who are serving as a light and a hope. I could choose to leave my story at that and not be raw about the reality of my life in missions, but it wouldn’t be truthful. Just like Daniel, I’ve taken vital steps forward and have felt the weightlessness of freedom even if only for a moment, but it’s not long before my face is in the dirt again, and I’m wondering if I’m ever going to get brave enough to even stand once more.



I look back on this year, and I know that I’m not the same person I was at the start of this year. I’m calmer and have gained some better stability. I’m no longer camping out on the edge of burn-out. I’m certainly wiser, and I’ve learned to make the difficult choices. I’ve learned boundaries and how to better battle in spiritual warfare. I know that I’ve been given powerful gifts I was lacking that are necessary for my calling. But, part of all of that learning and receiving has been passing through fire.


 
My 2015 calendar in a nutshell looked like this:
January- Utter exhaustion with Josuan’s drug relapses but choosing to seek God’s face. Attending a week-long worship service and a course on the prophetic, learning so much and being fortified with words from God.
February- The loss of Josuan to drugs and the streets and unending spiritual battles for his life. Being cared for by the pastors in Ojojona in the moment when I most needed it.
March- Recovering from the loss, ditching the anger, accepting peace while receiving God’s words at a women’s conference. Jonathan’s drug relapse. Marvin’s drug relapse.
April- The return of Josuan and the loss of Marvin.
May-June-July- Recovery, finding a new balance with no kids in my house, battling loneliness and loss of identity, visiting the States, breakthroughs in my Stateside family, joining Dunamis and receiving God’s love from my brothers and sisters in Christ, and celebrating one year being with Raúl.
August- The loss of Jonathan and battles with betrayal. Learning to be brave.
September- Erick’s murder. Discovering lies from Estefanny. Words declared over my life about returning to a childlike faith and innocence.
October- Mom and Naomi’s visit, return to street ministry, and debit card info stolen.
November- Josuan’s drug relapse and his leaving Ojojona. God’s words of comfort.
December- Just. Starting.



Yes, for the first time in nearly three years, I am without kids under my responsibility. I still have Jorgito in the orphanage who I still regularly visit. But, this Christmas is going to be so drastically different from last year. The loss of Josuan was not surprising to me especially after he had a relapse into drugs two weeks before he left. God had prepared me by giving me the revelation that even God Himself couldn’t convince Cain to not fall into sin. God the Father tried to warn Cain before he de-railed his own life, but even God couldn’t (didn’t) touch Cain’s free will. (Thus, how can I demand of myself the prevention every fall or the violation of someone’s free will for their own benefit?) But, even that preparation didn’t make the blow any lesser. Josuan made the conscious decision to leave Ojojona and is now living with his biological mother (where Estefanny lives) though he has already been back into drugs. With this time around, I still had to go through the stages of telling myself I didn’t care because I knew I did all I could, but really being angry because of the hurt of the betrayal and knowing what battles are coming for him, and then out of nowhere, relief.




I was at church on a Thursday night just a couple days after he left. I had been seeking God for answers regarding why he had even come back in April if he was just going to leave again, and I really sensed that this was just part of drinking the cup of suffering of Jesus. And, now, I confidently can say that Josuan was given all of the tools he needs to fight for himself, to have a personal relationship with Jesus, and to move in spiritual warfare on his own behalf. But, he has to be the one to choose to use all of the resources he’s been given in the past three years. So, in worship, I was just presenting myself to God again. Broken and without understanding, but willing to drink the cup of suffering for the sake of Jesus. And, God spoke to me in a way that He hadn’t for a while. He said, “Sarah, do you remember when your promise ring was stolen two years ago? You cried not because of the ring itself but because of the loss of the symbol, because it was a gift from your dad, and because you had wanted it to be your children’s inheritance.” Of course, I remembered. “But, you quickly decided that I would always know where that ring is. And you told me that you trusted Me to take care of it and that if it was My will, I could bring it back to you even in the most impossible of ways, even if you’re 80-years-old.” I could already see where He was going with this… “I need you to give Me Josuan like you gave Me that ring. You feel like the enemy has stolen your son from you, but the truth is that nothing that is freely given can be stolen. Just give him to Me. I will always know where he is, and I can take care of him better than you can. And, if it’s My will and Josuan uses his free will, I can always bring him back to you in My way and timing. Just give him to me.” It was quite the encounter for me, and the conversation continued from there, finishing with a pointed feeling that this was a moment of graduation, a closing of a chapter in my life so that a new one could begin. In one swift conversation, my journey as a single mother ended.




I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t anticipate this new season looking like the previous season at all. And, task-oriented person that I am, I’m once again obsessing over what I’m supposed to be doing now or who I’m supposed to be. The shift of identity from mami to whatever isn’t going to be a seamless one. But, in the midst of the renewed identity crisis, He is there. Just the other day, in the midst of angrily expressing to Raúl (God bless that man for his patience with me) my feeling of being lost and subtly trying to demand that he tell me who I’m supposed to be or how I’m supposed to move forward, God interrupted me, saying ever so loudly in my spirit, “Just be loved.” (Thankfully, God has given me a man who mercifully finishes a conversation where I’ve barraged him with frustrations and accusations by wiping my tears that God’s used to shut me up.) Prior to the conversation with Raúl, I had been asking God what my one word is for the upcoming year. What could be the one-word indicator for my impending next 12 months? What could be the slogan to maintain under my breath in the midst of trials? But, He was silent until that instant. Just be loved. Beloved.




I think after three years of developing a thick skin, of fighting for broken people with orphan spirits, and learning to love fiercely without receiving anything (but loss, betrayal, and disappointment) in return, I’ve forgotten how to receive God’s love. It’s easier for me to want to move into the next task or the next mission, making myself useful and giving more, than it is for me to be still and just receive. But, the reality is that this season I just finished was birthed out of receiving. It was birthed out of a time of slowness and fullness and preparation to pour myself out as an offering on the altar. I desperately want this upcoming year to be different, but the difference isn’t going to be measured in what I do or don’t do. It’s going to be measured by the degree to which I allow myself to be loved. All real ministry flows from love, and love is a two-way street of giving AND receiving.




In this season of reflection and quieting our hearts for the revelation of what the new year holds, I hope that you’ll put your first resolution as letting yourself be loved. All other goals and tasks can wait or are secondary. The reality is that you were made first and foremost to be loved by your Heavenly Father, not even to be used in ministry. Ministry is only a bi-product of being loved. Remember, He chose us first, and He renews that pact of unconditional love every day of every year. Just be loved, beloved.



All of my love,
Sarah

How Can You Keep Them Waiting?

Mom, myself, and Naomi

The crew from Ojojona
Back row: Yefri, Josuan, Edwin, Luis, Joseth, Cristian, Xiomara, Genesis
Front row: Pastor Edgar, Abiel, Pastor Daniela, Daniel, Juan José, Estiven, and Alex

The pastors with their two sons, Daniel and Abiel, with Naomi

Hello All,


It’s been a whirlwind couple of months that have gone by quickly. We’re nearing the end of this year before too long, and while I feel like it’s been a great (necessary) year, there’s still so much left to accomplish! This year, for me, has been a bit like an in-country sabbatical—or, at least a sabbatical from the high-pressure situations I was in for the last two years. It’s been a year of restoration and support. At the beginning of this year, when I—seemingly by chance—stumbled upon the conference in Ojojona, I was SO exhausted. I had never been so at the end of my rope. That conference was just a preview, a set-up for my entire year. I look back on who I was and my condition, and I don’t even recognize myself. The changes have been subtle but great. I can confidently say that I’m not constantly on the brink of burn-out and exhaustion, and I have found a place where I feel at home, honored, and blessed by my brothers and sisters in Christ. And, apart from that, I have a leadership that not only shares the exact same heart and vision but also has the spiritual tools to equip me better and a joyful willingness to support me and stand behind my ministry.


Previously, though I was quiet about it, I had spent years going from church to church, looking for someone who had the same heart, a church where I could take my street kid children. Some churches had the location but not the heart. Some had the strength in spiritual warfare necessary but not the leadership. Some had the vision but were full of religion. Some had the love of young people but no discipline. Some had the prophetic mantle but not the heart for the poor. No matter where I went, as had been the case since I was 18, I didn’t belong. The people were lovely. God used the periods of time I was in each of their churches, and when I left, I didn’t leave behind animosity but went in peace. But, with my kids, I was desperate for help and a support system. I was so frustrated by being so alone in the battle for my kids. I was so saddened that so many places wanted a piece of me or a piece of my kids but didn’t want our whole persons—they wanted me to serve in a position without wanting me to flow in my office in the five-fold ministry or to flow as the Holy Spirit led me. They valued my kids for their crazy testimonies and wanted them to evangelize in the name of their church but didn’t have the slightest clue about how to meet them in the middle of their continued battles with drugs and their pasts. I was carrying it all alone! But that time of frustration and fighting alone was so necessary. I carried a lot of church hurt even before I moved to Honduras. I had made every effort in my heart to forgive and carried no bitterness toward any person, but I carried SO MUCH distrust toward the church and their motives in general. Sometimes, this was completely relevant and was through discernment, but even when I found Dunamis Ministry in Ojojona, it was a hurdle to trust even people who had clean motives with me. What gave me motivation to jump that hurdle was remembering the alternative—doing it all on my own.


Now, I walk into church, and instead of being surrounded by open hands demanding a hand-out, I am surrounded by people who give me the clothes off their back when I compliment them on their shirts just because they want to bless and honor me (even when they know that I have the capacity to buy clothes). I have people who not only took on the weight of my kids to give me some relief, but they also took on the task of restoring me with love. I have people who not only give me permission to give prophetic words but push me to do so. I have people who lovingly kick my butt to get up and get back out there in ministry while simultaneously standing beside me and carrying my burdens. If I hadn’t found Dunamis, I don’t think I would’ve been able to continue being a missionary for much longer—that’s how emotionally, physically, and spiritually wrecked with exhaustion I was.


One of the signs that God gave me that He had led me to Dunamis and that I needed to let my guard down with them was through a suit jacket. For those of you who have been reading my blog for years, you may remember a suit jacket I was given by Pastor Donny Robbins of Life Church in Port Arthur, Texas, while I was on a road trip with my cousin in 2011. He gave me the (brand new) suit jacket off of his back with the instructions that I was to give it to a young man who would have the same anointing that he has. But, he was very clear that it had to fit exactly—not too big or too small—or it wasn’t for that person. For four years, I had a ridiculous number of guys try that jacket on, and it fit no one. Hondurans, in general, are shorter and smaller than people in the US. It was too big for everyone. But, one day, after visiting with Pastor Edgar of Ojojona, I caught a glimpse of that jacket still hanging in my closet, and I thought, “Bingo!” Sure enough, it fit perfectly. That church in Texas had been the first church I had felt completely at home in, was honored in, and was deeply ministered to probably since I was 12-years-old. And to have that jacket fit Pastor Edgar sent a clear signal to me.



A VISIT
My mom and sister came for about ten days towards the end of September, and it was great to have them here. My mom’s eager acceptance of Josuan as her grandson spoke volumes to people here about the unity that’s possible even with adopted kids. Having that support from my family has always been priceless to me. God is doing a special work in my family. It’s something I’ve prayed for, for many years as all of us have been damaged by church hurt, carry roots of distrust, etc. My brother had a transformative experience while at Iris Ministries’ Harvest School in Mozambique, and my mom has stated numerous times that she’ll never be the same following this trip to Honduras. I don’t know what God is up to, but I know it’s good. While they were here, Mom made a strong connection with Josuan and was able to spend time getting to know Raul. And, Naomi was able to complete her senior project in contributing to the ministry in Ojojona. While the church people were very excited to be receiving a much-needed gift, I think they were equally excited about what they had to give my family and wanting to make them feel at home and part of an extended family. Seeing that really blessed me.

While Mom and Naomi were here, we went to the streets to give out food and sweaters. This was the first time that we took a team from Ojojona, and it was like seeing my dreams become a reality. So many of the young people within the church have difficult pasts of drugs, street life, gang involvement, etc., and to see them released to minister to people from the same background was unspeakably beautiful. My dream has always been to have a team of restored street kids to go back and rescue more. That was exactly what was happening before my eyes. I hadn’t been to the streets almost in the whole year. The vision was always in place, but I just didn’t have the people to help and was too exhausted to do it alone. When we’d go in the past, I was always carrying the burden of the food, of the transportation, of the vision, of everything. I so longed to have an equipped team to be able to confidently delegate and carry out the mission with the same heart that God’s placed in me. I have worked with great people in the past with a lot of potential, but the vision that God has given me is different than anything we’ve done in the past. Now, however, Pastor Edgar and I sit and plan out our team—“Hey, God just gave me a list of people who should be on the team for your ministry to the streets.” *gives me the list* “Oh, we’re completely on the same page. Those are basically all the people I had in mind as well.” It is so refreshing to be on the same page and to have a pastor willingly, joyfully loan me his sheep for my ministry. No competition. No jealousy. Just partnership for building God’s Kingdom. So, we don’t have things completely off the ground though some of the people who went with me from the church were so inspired to continue (even though I haven’t had the resources) that they prayed in a donation of clothing, their small group is going to collaborate to donate the food, and they’re going to continue the work in their own area and invited me to honor me. What an amazing blessing.



SURPRISE!

While my mom was here, I went to pay for gas with my debit card, but it was refused. I thought perhaps it was due to a faulty machine. But, when I went to pay for groceries and was refused for insufficient funds, I called the bank. It turns out that someone stole my information and had been on a lengthy vacation on my dime to the tune of all of my checking account. I can laugh about it now, but it was quite stressful in the moment. Thankfully, everything has been reported, and currently, the bank gave me temporary credit, and the card company is investigating the case. I tell you all of this because in seeking God about this situation, I felt like God said that many times, He allows the enemy to steal from us to give us a chance to activate the promises in His Word that He has for us. This reply from God came after I had already proclaimed the example of Job over the situation—that when Satan steals from me, as a child of God, I am not only entitled to total restoration, but I’m also promised an increase. God makes no exception of persons. If He doubled Job’s blessings after he passed the test, He can do the same for me.



THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH
The Word says that nothing shall come to pass without God first telling His prophets. When Josuan had been in Teen Challenge only about a month, I had a dream in which someone was telling me a prophetic word that one of my kids would be murdered and another would go back to the streets but later return. It was a dream I prayed about a lot. Josuan returned to the streets, but it was a relapse that only lasted two and half months. I thought that the child that was murdered was Cristian, as I had been told that he’d been murdered in the boys’ juvenile delinquent center. That turned out to be false as he turned up in the boys’ juvenile delinquent center again this year. But, now that dream has sadly come to fruition. Since Erick left Teen Challenge, he was involved in some seriously dangerous activity, on the path that only leads to death in this country. I didn’t have a whole lot of concrete evidence of that though I could feel in the supernatural. I tried to warn his mother various times, but she denied it. In June, he ended up in the juvenile delinquent center for extortion and gang involvement. Though I had contact with his mom, out of wisdom for what I felt, I maintained my distance from him.


In September, she called me crying and saying that Erick had been released from the juvenile delinquent center (who knows if that’s true?) and was kidnapped. He was, in fact, kidnapped with another teenage boy in an unmarked vehicle. She had been searching for him for a week. A week later, she called me crying because two bodies of two young men were found in an abandoned house not far from where I live. They had evidence of having been tortured, shot, and burned. I went to the site to wait with her where Forensics, the police, family members, and news teams were all waiting the results. They did identify Erick and a friend by their clothes. The bodies had been in decay for nearly a week and were unrecognizable from the burns. We buried him the next day.

Erick

 It’s heartbreaking for his mother—who had already experienced the murders of her other son and of her husband years prior. But no one can touch free will. Salvation is personal. My consolation is that if he was tortured before they killed him, maybe he had time to repent and call on Jesus. He certainly had the seeds of the truth planted inside his mind and heart. I have no regrets with Erick. I poured into him while in Teen Challenge for two years. I helped him with his high school expenses. I fought for him in spiritual warfare. I had numerous conversations of warning with him. But, no one can touch free will, and the verse that states that the wages of sin are death is a complete reality here. He was knowingly playing with fire, and as a result, he basically signed his own death sentence. So, while it is a devastating loss, I continue because there are others who need the chance for rescue.



FREE WILL DECISIONS

One of the things I learned in the crash course I was thrown into in the last two years is that street kids are not rescued by simple food nor shelter nor working nor studying and not even by family. Street kids are rescued when they decide to pursue the life preserver we present them with of life with Jesus. All I can do is extend it to them. They have to be the ones to choose to paddle to it, grab it, and hold on for dear life. If I swim to them, put the life saver on their bodies and tow them to shore with no effort on their part, they never learn to swim on their own. They never develop their own will to truly live. They never learn to have a personal relationship of dependency on God…because they’re too busy depending on me and my love. It was a lesson learned the hard way.


Just yesterday, I had a small visit with Marvin who asked to come to my house. I don’t re-open doors with kids unless God puts grace in my heart towards the kid. It’s God’s signal to me that it’s safe and that they’re ready. On Saturday, before Marvin called, I felt that grace. So, when he called, I let him come. He had called Pastor Edgar a few weeks ago asking to live there in Ojojona. The pastor said no because I hadn’t spoken for him. Working with street kids is the embodiment of the verse that talks about being as gentle as a lamb but as cunning as a snake. I never understood that verse until I started working in Honduras. You have to be on your spiritual guard that in mercy you’re not inviting a demonic spirit to cause a loss of not only that young person but various others just through peer pressure to leave, fall into drugs, etc. Marvin isn’t quite ready, but the time to talk did allow me to present the conditions and the tests he has to pass of free will decisions before I’m willing to speak for him. One of which is that he has to repent and fix his relationship with Raul because he has never asked for forgiveness for stealing from him and disrespecting him. (Even that tiny test is a HUGE stretch for Marvin’s pride.) So, we’ll see what he decides.


Meanwhile, Jonathan has been living like a prisoner in danger as his old enemies are still looking to kill him. (They beat up Marvin and broke one of his teeth thinking it was his brother.) He’s another one who has to make some free will decisions about whether or not he wants to truly live or whether he wants to sign his own death sentence. The seed of truth is very present in his heart and mind. We’ll see what he decides even as we plead mercy and the blood over his life in the valley of decision.



REACTIVATED
For the past several months, I’ve had an internal battle. I’ve been busy with stuff—English classes, joining the church’s worship team, maintaining my household, participating in church ministry stuff, finalizing the legal process of my ministry, helping Raul with business plans, etc. But, I’ve been bored out of my mind, longing to get back to my ministry, to stopping for the one, to my street kids, to being the missionary I’m called to be. However, I’ve been in a tug-of-war with fear. Fear of what God is going to ask of me this time. Fear of reaching the same level of exhaustion as last time. Fear of falling into old patterns or that I didn’t learn the lessons well enough the first time. Fear of more rejection. Fear of the effects on my relationship with Raul. Fear of suffering. Fear of getting in over my head again. Fear of the criticism. Fear of loss. ETC. It’s like this—there is this one episode of the TV show Scrubs where JD, a doctor and the main character, realizes that he’s afraid of sick people and tries to avoid all of his contagious patients. It seems silly, but that is exactly how I’ve felt. I know I have a lifeline for others. It’s been prophesied over me so many times that there are captives just waiting for me to light up their darkness. But, I’ve been paralyzed in the process of restoration. I finally just told God the other day, “I am so sick of myself and of wasting time, but I can’t will myself to heal from this. So, help me out here, please?”


This past weekend, I went to an evangelism conference with Will Hart and Jamie Galloway, two of the guys from Darren Wilson’s movie, Holy Ghost. (Here is a link to Will Hart's Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/WillHartMinistries)  I can whole-heartedly say that Will Hart is one of the best speakers I’ve ever heard. (Jamie Galloway is also pretty great!) I have never encountered someone who not only really gets what the Christian life is about but also articulates it so well and with such a contagious passion. I was teary just listening to his wild testimonies of serving with Iris Ministries and Heidi Baker and being sent to the Congo in the middle of the peak of its danger with rebel groups. I had told God that I wanted to leave that conference with a breakthrough, with a difference. And, for the first time in such a long time, I felt that original childlike passion for the lost. I felt that innocent fire of desire to have an adventure with God—exactly how I felt before I took on Josuan. I was just so fearless, so ready to storm forward no matter the cost. I have wanted to return to that place (but with the increased wisdom from the tests of the last two years). I can’t say that I’m at 100% yet, but I am well on the way.



During worship/ministry time, God gave me a convicting word. All day Saturday, I was worried about time—getting there on time, returning from lunch on time—and dealing with Hondurans who feel good about themselves as long as they’re no more than an hour late. I’ve lived here for four years, but I still think Honduran time of no one getting there when they say they’re going to is for the birds. I hate making people wait or not fulfilling my word to be at a certain place at a certain time. It makes me feel like a liar. (My love language is quality time…Time is like a currency for me because you can’t buy any more, and I hate disrespecting others’ time or when someone disrespects my time. It’s like stealing something you can never get back…but I digress.) So, in ministry, God gave me a mental image of thousands of street kids. They were all singing Rich Mullin’s song, “My Deliverer,” which was a song that God gave me in 2007, the first time I went to Honduras. There is this haunting part of the song where children are singing, “My deliverer is coming. My deliverer is standing by.” It makes me cry even now just thinking about it. God took me on this tour to see all of these singing children and teenagers high on glue. Then, holding my hand, He looked at me and said, “How can you keep them waiting?” It broke my heart in the best way possible.


So, good things are happening. They’re stirring in the spiritual atmosphere. They’re already in the heart and mind of Christ, but they’re going to begin to be birthed in the natural. It’s exciting. For the first time in such a long time, I am excited about the possibility of another adventure with God. I look at Josuan who has cost me so much but has been so worth it, and I know that even if I have to drink the cup of suffering He hands to me, even if I have experience loss and betrayal, even if I get criticized, even if I’m in well over my head, it is worth it. It will all be worth it.


I’ll leave you today with some good tidbits they taught us in the evangelism conference:

God will utilize whatever you have to give—even if that is very little. You don’t have to be enough because Jesus is always enough. – Jamie Galloway

The disciples asked Jesus to teach them how to pray in Luke 11 after Jesus had already sent them out in Luke 10. He sent them out without that basic preparation of knowing how to pray because Jesus puts us in situations we aren’t prepared for because it’s out of faith and not out of knowledge or skill. Jesus is very comfortable with us feeling uncomfortable. – Jamie Galloway

Our mission is to bring heaven to earth and not to determine God’s motives in healing or not. That’s not our job. We’re just vessels. It’s always the will of God to heal, save, and bless. – Jamie Galloway

Everyone is called to move in all of the gifts. You may move in one at a higher level than another, but they’re all gifts of the spirit, so everyone has access to all of the gifts instead of pigeonholing oneself in only one or a couple. Any lost person that God presents in front of you with a need, you do not have the right to say, “No, sorry. You have to come to my church for that because I don’t move in that gift. Someone else does,” because that person is going to hell, and you’re the chosen one to meet that need. – Will Hart

Don’t put Satan and God on the same level fighting. It’s more like Satan and Michael are fighting. God doesn’t play on the same playing field as Satan. – Will Hart

Don’t use Satan as an excuse not to go. When you feel oppression, it’s not time to back up. It’s because you’re calling to bring light to that darkness. Stop using Satan to justify your fear. Your faith is not to protect yourself. – Will Hart

Satan cannot quench the Holy Spirit’s fire. Only you can. – Will Hart

The only way to learn to move in the gifts is to move with what you already have. You’re going to fail. You’re going to miss it. That doesn’t make you a false prophet. – Will Hart

The only way to know if it’s you imagining or if it’s God is to test it. Move on it. That’s how you find out. – Will Hart

Jesus’ greatest investment was in people. – Jamie Galloway

Don’t wait for an emergency to ask for a miracle. – Jamie Galloway

All of my love,
Sarah

PS There are a lot more pictures to show of Mom and Naomi's trip, so I'll try to do a post just of pictures soon.