A Life of Seeds beneath The Earth

This month finds me unexpectedly surrounded by family. Eighteen months ago, my grandfather was diagnosed with lung cancer. It's not something I've publicly talked about too much previously out of respect for the privacy of my family. Life after that diagnosis hung in the balance for my family because we didn't know what was going to happen nor when. One of the motivators for Raúl's green card process was actually my Granddad's diagnosis, and we also wrestled with the question of whether or not to get married in the States instead of Honduras. Looking back, I don't regret the decisions that we made although they haven't all turned out as expected. My Granddad had unsuccessful surgery last January, and there were complications with the anesthesia that scared us. I can still remember wrestling with God over the fear that he could pass away because of those complications when he should have been discharged after just a week. But I remember God giving me such a clear image in my head of the look on my Granddad's face when he would meet Jesus in Heaven, and while I cried for days over that, it's an image that I've carried as a source of bittersweet comfort. Thankfully, though, we had my Granddad with us until May 3 of this year. His battle with cancer, the chemo treatments and subsequent effects, the emotional reactions, and the weakness that ate away at his pride were a hard path for all of us. And, I'll confess that I don't know exactly what God was doing throughout that time, and as someone who thrives on the intellectual whys, that's hard for me. But, I don't think I've ever been prouder of how my grandmother fought for him and compassionately cared for him or of how my Mom tirelessly traveled to and from their home--a three hour drive--every week just to take advantage of his time. And, though it was so hard for my Granddad, I do trust that God was working internally in his heart, a divine preparation for Heaven that I suppose I likely can't fully understand. The last time I was here--Christmas--was hard. Every time I would have to leave after Granddad's diagnosis, I struggled with understanding the finality of never knowing which would be my last goodbye. I also really wrestled with the urge to stay in the States though eventually I didn't feel like that was necessarily the right choice. Once God gave me peace, I committed to returning to Honduras and to my husband. And, through technology, I stayed connected with my grandparents through video calls and messages. I did make sure that I left nothing unsaid, and I have no regrets.

My Granddad was a strong follower of Jesus. He was a passionate advocate for the Holy Spirit. And, we do have such a special comfort in knowing that Granddad had his salvation through Jesus and is in Heaven. I find myself thinking about Heaven a lot more and imagining my Granddad there with God, and I feel something special about knowing that my cloud of witnesses now includes someone I had such a special connection with. I also feel so privileged that I was really allowed to know Granddad. In the days surrounding his funeral, it really hit me that he was so introverted that not many people knew all of his facets. As family, I got to see his silly side and his utmost dedication to his family in ways that outsiders didn't. As someone who also requires so much time and constancy and trust to let myself be fully known by others, I see that as a true treasure.

I also feel incredibly blessed that my husband is so supportive of family and my coming here for a couple of months. And I'm grateful that God has had me in a place of flexibility so that I can be here with my family now in the States and can keep my Grandmom company as she begins to process, to feel, and to adapt. At times this year, my life has felt slow and fruitless. I have wondered how to move forward even as I feel like I'm stewarding my time and giftings better than ever. I have questioned the lack of "able men" and women to rely on in being able to expand our ministry outreach. But, now, I feel blessed for that lack, that slowness, and just the revelation that God has purposefully been less demanding of me than I am of myself because He knew that one of my greatest directions this year was just to be here and love my family well. I don't have answers or anything magically healing to say. But I am present and savoring the time.

Our family is taking it day by day. Grief comes in waves, so we take it as it comes. Some days, it's hard to believe that he's really gone. We do appreciate your prayers as invisible hands carrying us through.

I wrote in my most recent newsletter that hasn't even reached its destinations yet that we were praying for God's favor in Raúl's green card process as everything had been stalled in waiting for the government departments to send the necessary documents to commence the second step in the application. With the delay, it seemed unlikely that he would be able to come to the States this year for Christmas with me. But, just a couple days after writing that newsletter, we did receive the necessary documents. So, there is still hope (though it does seem like there are processing delays across the board) that he could make it to the States this year. So, prayers for favor are still applicable.

In terms of the ministry back home, Raúl is doing well holding the fort down as they say. All of our students are doing well, and most of them have checked in with me since I've been here. And, Raúl, never one for being alone, has had even more opportunities for discipleship of the teenage boys around us as many of them are keeping him company or staying with him at our home while I'm gone. I will say that in a lot of ways I kind of think the ministerial slowness has to do with giving Raúl a chance to master the learning curve and come into his own in ministry. And I'm proud of him and the strides of maturity that he's been making.

Before I came, on the day that I received the call from my Mom that my Granddad wasn't expected to live past that week, I was at a missionary mini-retreat with the women from my Bible study. I can't tell you how much that group of women has meant to me since I've joined their ranks. It was such a comfort to be surrounded by women who let me cry and just get the sacrifices that we make because we love God and want to serve Him but we also love our families and mourn the little and big losses with them. One of the passages of Scripture that we studied at that retreat was the one where Jethro is telling Moses that he needs to delegate some of the work to able men. And, we reflected on how that applies to our lives in ministry. I feel like I have long ago learned that I don't want to try to do it all alone. My season of ministering with no support system was so exhausting that I lost all hope, and I have committed to not going back there. But, with that said, it is so hard to find or even to disciple able men and women in Honduras. I did feel relieved listening to the other women from our group describing similar problems though, because I struggled with feeling like it was just me and perhaps I was a failure in that regard. Every year, Raúl and I feel like, "This is it! We finally have our people. We're finally going to be able to move forward with aspects of our vision that have previously been impossible for a lack of faithful people." And, every year so far, we've been disappointed when people don't follow through. Part of it is cultural--I read a study before I moved to Honduras that had conclusions that the majority of Hondurans don't trust anyone--not even family members. In a society where there are a lot of children raising children, that foundation of mature trust and boundaries and healthy family relationships are just never constructed. And what is means to be a good friend is often never taught much less experienced. Many people have never had a healthy example of a trustworthy, faithful relationship or friendship, so they have never really learned how to be trustworthy or dependable themselves--and that's true across the globe, not just in Honduras. In the culture, the concept of time and commitment are slower and more relaxed. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but they can be hurtful sometimes when perceived as disrespect. Even with my English classes, I have had people beg me for months to start a new English class for beginners, but when I finally do, which is a sacrifice of my time, they are some of the first people to drop out. The attitude toward education is often that it's optional. Parents let their fickle children decide if they want to continue into sixth grade or beyond because when their kids don't make enough effort, its precious income that is wasted. All of that has been a huge culture shock for me. I grew up in a family where if you started something, you finished it. If you borrowed something, you returned it in its previous condition in a timely manner. If you had a debt, you paid it back as first priority before buying anything unnecessary for yourself. If you committed to something, you saw it through even when you didn't really want to any more simply to be a person of your word. Saying you're going to do something and then not doing it is akin to lying in our family or at the very least being inconsiderate. So, it has been hard to not take many Hondurans' lack of commitment, word, and perseverance personally. And even so far this year, with small group and our board and how we thought things were going to go, there have been many surprises and disappointments. So, at this retreat, I found myself just telling God, "You know that I don't want to try to do it all myself. You know that it's my desire to find or even disciple and train up able men and women. But how on earth can I find them?" And, many of my missionaries reiterated my same sentiments. But, I did feel deep in my soul like God reminded me that everything that I need for fulfilling His purposes, He would provide at the right time. So, I left that retreat with a peace that it's okay that I still don't have able men or women to rely on. It's not a failure on my part or a reflection of my character. And, the season that we're in currently is still a season of sowing on various types of soil. We don't know what's going to sprout just yet, but that doesn't mean that we stop being farmers as a result.

And since I have been in the States, I have reveled in watching how gardening and nature are ingrained in my family. Seeds and planting and getting your hands dirty with earth course through our blood of values. My Granddad was a great example of that both naturally and spiritually. He led a simple life in his same hometown. He seldom traveled. He didn't ever start a church or have a large number of followers. He didn't try to be important in any arena in his life. But, he sowed seeds everywhere he was from his co-workers to Mormon missionaries on his doorstep, from his neighbors to his grandchildren and children. He served. He listened. He taught. He played. He learned. He was a great example. And, many of those seeds have yet to sprout. Some of those seeds he never saw sprout on earth. But his hand was always to the plow. His figurative and literal garden were cared for until his last strength. That humble faithfulness is a legacy I want to be content with carrying regardless of what sprouts and grows for me.

Much Love,
Sarah

Offering Up My Smallness

Hello All,

This month so far has gone well. A few days ago, Raúl and I celebrated our one-year anniversary of being legally married. Because of how long and complicated the legal marriage process can be here (and it was!!!), Raúl and I legally got married on April 7, but we didn't actually live together as a married couple until after our religious wedding on July 22. So, we have two anniversaries. The year, as expected, has gone by really fast, but in the midst of the fly-by of time, we've made some good memories and made some strides in feeling like our own family. As Shauna Niequist mentions in her book, Cold Tangerines, becoming a family after getting married doesn't start automatically on the day of the wedding, but is a process over time--like a tree growing roots, deeper and deeper.

Our small group has continued well in deepening relationships, and the topics we've covered over the past month have dealt with self-awareness and having a culture of honor. Self-awareness is a topic that isn't taught very explicitly within the churches I have observed, but it's such a vital part of healthy spirituality and relating to God and others. Part of what we did as a group was take the Myers-Briggs personality test. I get that a personality test isn't necessarily that spiritual, but you should have seen how excited our group was to learn more about themselves and to understand that God made them with a unique personality but also how that personality affects the different areas in their lives. Another aspect of this is that we also work with young people. In the US, around middle school and high school, you take a kind of aptitude test to see what your likes and dislikes are and to determine what kinds of jobs would be best for you. In Honduras, they don't do anything like that. I can't tell you how many directionless young people I've talked to who have no idea what to study or who just decide something out of the blue with no basis on their own preferences or aptitudes. A lot of people study what their parents dictate, study what is easiest, or pick a major that isn't conducive to who they are. (For example, "I'm going to study to be an engineer!" "Oh really, that's great! Do you like math and science?" "Oh no! I hate math and science." "So, uh...what are you doing?") A university student recently told me that the only national public university (the most popular university) only turns out 3% of students who actually graduate! So, being able to use the Myers-Briggs test just to give them an idea of the kinds of jobs that could appeal to their personalities and preferences was actually something many of our teenagers were really excited about.

This past month, I also had the opportunity to translate for a team that came down to work with Manos Extendidas. My role was just translating for a couple of days, but it'd been a long time since I'd been with a team, a long time since I'd translated, and a long time since I'd been in some of the ministries they were working in. It was nice to return to some areas from my early years here and get some fresh perspective, and the team we were working with was great. I had some great conversations with some of them--especially two ladies who had been long-term missionaries in other countries. Remembering some things from early years also brought about some ideas for our non-profit, and we'll see how those play out especially this week as we have our next board meeting. In general, I feel like I've reached some better clarity as to how I'd like to minister to God, minister to His church, and minister to the world through the non-profit. I just don't always know the exact practical steps to take in order to reach all of those goals. But, as they make themselves apparent, we will move forward in obedience.

So far, all of our students have been in school almost three months. Estefanny is doing very well in all of her classes and recent exams and will soon start her community service requirement that all high schoolers have to complete. Brayan has successfully moved on to the second level in drumming and music theory and recently celebrated a birthday. And Kristian continues to do well, and his father is so faithful in being supportive of him.

This month, I've also been in pretty consistent contact with the two boys I previously visited in El Buen Pastor home for children. Elvis left a few years ago to return to live with his biological family. Since moving back, his stepfather, who had suffered from the effects of polio, died. His mother has always had some mental health issues though they've been undiagnosed formally. She often wanders the streets, and Elvis has had difficulty with being able to work when he's also trying to keep track of his mother. Buen Pastor has been amazing in being supportive when he showed up there asking for help. So far, though, it has been a huge challenge finding a hospital or even a nursing home willing to take his mother because of her mental health issues. To my knowledge, the situation still hasn't been totally resolved, so that's an area that could use prayer. Raúl and I also met up with Jorge. Since January of this year, he has been living in Buen Pastor's transition home with the boys he's grown up with his whole life. We recently got to see the house, see some of the boys we'd already met over the years, and also meet the North American couple who runs the home. They are some special people with beautiful hearts in how they juggle of family of teenage boys along with their own biological sons. Jorge is finishing up high school and considering his career paths and future university studies.

Antonio and Josuan continue to work with Raúl, and Antonio has been a great help in friendship and discipling Josuan. Josuan continues to rent his own room and to study at the same high school he's been at previously. He also comes to small group on Saturdays. Addiction is still a major battle in his life, but as we have for the past five years, we still believe God is at work.

My English classes are going well, and we've actually had a few more students join. Raúl continues to study English and civics for the US citizenship test. It'll be a year and a half before he has to take the test, but given that even some US citizens wouldn't pass it, we're trying to get a head start on learning.

In the mean time, Bible study has continued the Peter Scazzero series--this time studying Emotionally Healthy Relationships. I can't express what an answer to prayer ladies' Bible study has been. It has become a great support system for me and has led to some dear, budding friendships. While I'm not totally sure how and in what ways we can collaborate, it's nice to at least feel connected in heart and vision to the ministries of others. I'm still hoping for Raúl to enter this new world with me a bit and to be able to develop his own support system. It just seems harder for men to connect in the same way.

Personally, I continue to write on www.benchchats.blogspot.com which has been a good outlet for writing something other than these updates, which is something I've always enjoyed. And I continue learning through WorshipU. In general, this year has been such an improvement so far from last year. I feel like I am moving forward in small ways toward better developing and using the gifts that God has given me, and I wake up every morning with purpose and an idea of what needs to be done, who I need to connect with, and a sense of my own identity here in Honduras. That was seriously lacking last year. Getting married was a joy, but for someone so independent, being thrown into the details of maintaining a household and cooking all. the. time. for someone else was a struggle. It was difficult to navigate who I was as a married woman, adding a new role without losing my own joys and individuality. Thankfully, I have practically found a better system so that housework and cooking doesn't consume all of my time, and I've found a support system of women who give me the space to breathe just by being able to nod and say, "Me too." God is faithful, and He has provided so many things that I desperately needed last year.

As always, thank you for reading and for your prayers. Sometimes, my life feels very small, but I have reached a place where I offer my smallness to God in joy and let Him do with my life what He desires, letting my smallness join in the smallness of others to be a part of His divine plan and purposes.

Much love,
Sarah

The Next Right Step in the Journey

So far, the month of March has been one of reflection and making some positive changes. As newlyweds, Raúl and I are still navigating what it looks like for our two former separate lives to be joined into one, and we're still seeking God as to what our calling is together and how exactly that should look. As a visionary kind of person, it's been difficult for me to take steps without seeing the destination of our path clearly. But, I also know that God is just as interested (if not more) in the process of my refinement than He is about the product or destination. Day by day, we just want to do the next right thing as God reveals His plans to us little by little. Right now, that looks like getting up early to do some morning devotions together and doing a longer Bible study together on Sundays. That also looks like working together on preparing for the small group we have in our home on Saturday nights.

I am happy to say that at the very end of February, Raúl's first step in the residency process was approved. We have to wait 30 days to apply for the next step, but it was such an encouragement for things to move forward! (It was starting to feel like it'd never come through.) I think that first step coming through has also been a bit of a wake-up call to Raúl that his life is on its way to having changes and looking different. That's obviously always been the case since getting married is a big change, but Raúl's never been to the States, and his travel has been limited to nearby countries with the same language and similar cultures. His world and, I believe, his dreams and views on what God can do with his life will expand by being able to visit my passport country and to participate more closely in family life with my family. I am hoping that that experience, when it comes, will also help him better understand me and help us start making some better-informed decisions about what our culture is within our home.

We successfully submitted all of our reports for the non-profit here in Honduras and even received some favor from God in that we received a discount from our lawyer that we didn't even have to ask for. All of our kids are now registered in school and have their school supplies. They are approaching their first set of exams, and so far, so good. Estefanny is enjoying her new school and has managed to find some new friends while Kristian's teachers speak highly of him. Brayan is advancing in music theory and now has the adequate practice materials to keep up with drum lessons at home. This helps him serve better within his church. Raúl is also considering giving Brayan a full-time job at the second location of his business. Antonio is now living under our care and is working full-time with Raúl. Unfortunately, the computer class he signed up for ended up being over-full, so he'll have to wait until he finds a different class or until they do new registrations for new classes.

Politically, everything has totally died down. Life is totally back to normal. It's unsure what the future will hold in this arena, and there are definitely still people who are very unhappy about the current situation. But, for the moment, it seems that they're lacking a direction in how to proceed.

This month in our small group, we have been talking about knowing yourself better through your relationship with God. We've covered topics such as the kinds of relationships we should have as well as the kinds of gifts we may have and how we can use them. While these lessons may seem common sense in some ways, I have discovered that most of the Honduran population we've worked with have not had someone to share with. It kind of comes with the territory--a lot of women get pregnant early and have never been raised in a family that processes emotions or needs in a healthy way. Thus, children are raising children in many cases. Within a lot of Honduran families I've observed, many of them live all together in the same house or on the same property even after they've married and had children. But, while they may serve each other in economic needs, they do not connect emotionally. They can live and eat and do everything in the same exact room, but they won't talk about what they're struggling with, how they feel, or ask for advice. Love is therefore not defined so much by connection or choice but by obligation. I read a study before I moved to Honduras that expressed findings that, in general, Hondurans don't trust anyone--not even their spouses or family members in a lot of cases. And, in my experience, this is often true. I have been encouraged by the participation in our group discussions, and I have had many members of the group tell me that they feel safe to be able to share personal struggles with me and that they have either never had that or have rarely had that. I am re-learning that I have a real passion for counseling and encouraging emotional development, and I am beginning to see that part of my calling to Honduras is to be able to provide a safe place to counsel people through their emotional issues and to better their emotional development. This is something that the Honduran church, in my experience, does not do...and, if we're honest, it's something not even churches in the US do a lot of the time.

For many of those reasons, I greatly enjoyed doing the study, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, in Ladies' Bible study with fellow missionary women. We just finished the study today, but after a short break, we'll start the study of Emotionally Healthy Relationships. In the past month, I've had some opportunities to spend more time talking to the ladies of this group, and they have developed into a real support system in so many ways. It's such a relief to be able to talk to someone and know that they understand what you're going through. Having this kind of community was something I so desperately needed, and I find myself being a much healthier person in all aspects of life because of the support of these women. I really pray that Raúl can develop some kind of similar support system.

In the mean time, I still teach two English classes, and those have been really enjoyable for me because while I have few students in each class, all of my students are so dedicated and excited to learn. One of my most faithful students is an older woman who feels called into missions work. She asked God for a long time to send her a native English speaker to teach her English, and she ended up in my class because of randomly meeting another one of my students on a bus ride. She is dedicated to learning because she feels like God sent me directly to her. After I publish this post, I'll have to hit the road for my Tuesday class of students who have been taking classes from me for three years. When I started, I had never taught ESL, and I didn't even have a book to go by or a curriculum to use. So, I wrote my own, and I told my students, "Look, guys, I don't have any real experience teaching English as a second language, but I'm going to do my best, and we'll see what happens." And, I have been thrilled to have so many students tell me that they've learned more from my teaching style, curriculum, and format than they did in university classes or expensive classes they've taken in other locations. I am a teacher. That is what I studied. But, that hasn't been the reason for the success in these classes. God has given me great grace when I take on new challenges I don't feel qualified for and has also given my students great determination to learn, and the combination of all of these things has made my classes fruitful. That is very encouraging to me.

Anyway, I want to thank each of you who reads this blog and keeps up with my life here. I am amazed at the winding journey I have had with God over the past six years here in Honduras. But, at the same time, in many ways, I feel like I'm just getting started. I know that doors open, finances continue, and fruit is developed because of your prayers and support, and I don't take any of those things lightly. I am humbled by the sacrifices of others every day that continue to make possible my being here in all of my smallness and serving in the relationships God provides to cause more of His Kingdom to come to earth. You have my sincere thanks.

All of my love,
Sarah

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