Wednesday, August 28, 2013


I came home from Honduras, so excited to Blog about this missions trip.

As the week progressed, I began to shatter into a handful of pieces feeling the weight of emotion of coming back into the routines of average American life.

I marveled at running water, shoes, comfort, shelter, a freezer full of chicken that I didn't have to kill and quarter, everything was compact, programmed, convenient like our microwave lives. People had told me from my small group at church about re-entry but what really began to happen was more like robbery.

The Flickr feed was filling up with our trek through Duyure where the medical clinic was set up. Hundred's of people came all week for what Mary Anne and many other medical professionals called "Jesus and Tylenol". Many of the locals that had returned from the previous year testified to the miraculous healings they had received, but what was really claimed was the miracles that Tylenol couldn't.

It wasn't the Tylenol that brought those healings of things far worse than a common headache.

It was Jesus.

That spoke to me and to many others, that this place was a very special testimony of amazing faith.

"Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit says the Lord," Zechariah 4:6

One of the first houses I visited was for animal distribution, we were bringing live chickens to the family (they smell like poo), and made minimal conversation because I knew very little Spanish. It is true however, that the closest distance between two friends is a smile and I smiled a lot, and nodded. The dirt roads of Duyure were lined with modest houses, one with a tin roof and a wandering donkey and another with blankets for walls and the thick waft of smoke from an indoor oven baking tortillas.

"Que Dios Los Bendiga - May God Bless You" I finally learned this by the end of the week, as it was said as often as Dora yells 'Back Pack' from the only Spanish Immersion I had experienced from Nick Jr on TV.

My favorite house was from my first day there. A little further down at the corner of a road, where the wandering donkey broke free from his modest shack stood a tiny frail woman. She invited the four of us inside as we circled her little home. We had no interpreter, so besides our own Pastor who spoke little to no Spanish, the local Pastor spoke to the old woman as she received the smelly chickens, squinting as she smiled so wide. I thought I would adopt her right then and there on the spot, she had the sweetest demeanor and in what broken translation another of us could make out revealed a very long suffering soul with many thanks to God for his provision for her. Before we left, she asked the local Pastor if she could pray over us which we were later told was rare for a woman to lead prayer.

Her weathered hand touched my shoulder as she extended the other to the pastor. Slowly she began to pour out over us in prayer. I felt the warm streams of tears fall down my face onto the dusty tips of my boots and leave a small puddle on her dirt floor. I don't even know what she was saying, but the sincerity in the inflection of her voice was so intentional. A kindness, not a fanfare of "Father God Holy Jehovah" titles or regurgitated terms, it was a gracious and most sincere prayer of thankfulness and 'Carino"a Spanish word that not only means Love, but Affectionate Love.

This sweet simple woman with very little was pouring over us with deep affection, the way you kiss a baby's cheeks and cuddle your 'Loveables'.

I brought a chicken, she fairly traded 'Carino'

She gave me more.

The whole week was like that. No matter what I brought, it was too little.

The faith they had, was tremendous in comparison. I came to serve, and I was over served.

We drove up the spine of a mountain in Choluteca, it's hillside teeming with tropical and lush walls of green and fruits. This place was like paradise, the mountains would peak like the tips of meringue and covered with stone and rock. On our way up the mountain, at 3 pm as we passed a family walking to a church service at a house we parked and got out at the invitation to be treated to their coffee and cookies.

At first glancing to each other, knowing the risk of eating possibly contaminated food and water, we dipped the sweet bread in the thick dark molasses and I enjoyed listening to our Pastor give a sermon on the spot as our guide translated to the locals. Slowly creeping up behind me, followed three little boys enjoying a game of throwing centipedes in my hair and clothes. Eventually, a magenta flower and wide bright eyes and smiles.

Carino, and bugs. That's what little Honduran boys are made of :)

Every night was a devotional, and worship. Our group was engaging in the flourish of heart strings as every voice lifted up praise. I so enjoyed it, I love leading people in worship and hearing that communion of souls and this was truly a gift that week.

Children were playing, and smiling. I over projected a square kick of a pelota accidentally into a crowd of people waiting to see the Medical Team, and was later thankful for not hitting anyone and causing injury as the little girl I was kicking the ball around with promptly assured me that soccer was not my forte.

The people from Mission Lazarus are very passionate about their operation, and at times there was discord about procedure or approach but as I've seen during many hospital visits with my own son those issues are usually short lived and everyone appreciates the over all efforts as success. People were treated, and the medical staff that had come were able to not only see people in a school turned into the make shift clinic, but also climb steep hillsides (Lane!) and accidentally stumble onto a local that needed further medical attention. Rotten teeth were pulled (a lot of them) by one Dentist, Heart Murmurs were detected and referred for additional care.

Many came for 'Jesus and Tylenol'.

Many of us left with 'Carino" and Mary Anne Pence left with a new extended family in a woman she met, a divine appointment in Laura. She'll have to tell that beautiful story :)

So many great things happened, but the best things weren't things at all. Faith was experienced, in Matt Wade's devotional 'Messes became Messages, Tests became Testimony's, Scars became Perfect Wholeness'.

Sounds like an amazing week?

It was indeed...

I pray that if you are entering into a time of stepping out of the boat, and fully wanting to commit to serving and DOING life with God, you will have to continually 'STEP OUT', not just once but all the time!

I've had to have a pep talk with someone who was able to recognize that when Opposition is messing with you, the Defense is Blessing you.

Story not over, for a while none of these will be dismissed with THE END but instead with


God Speed, and Que Dios Los Bendiga

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Sunshine in a Cup!

What a great morning! I was able to talk to Mary Logan for 15 minutes today! No tears, no awkward silence, beautiful girl had on a tutu and even walked and danced for me. That is huge given that she was not walking when she first arrived at The Raining Season. Praying over everyone there, caring and loving our kids. I think I said and signed (ASL) at least 10001 times today. Praise God!

On that bright note, I decided to use a lemonade recipe for Math today for Dalton. Visuals are so much easier, especially since as of yesterday I had Dalton's eyes examined since 2011 and he will need glasses. We are taking lemons and literally making lemonade!

Adding fresh mint from our garden gave it our own unique flavor, and I love his recipe added to my Sun Tea. Here's our recipe! Hope you're all having a Blessed Day.

Dalton's Le'Mintade

 6 Lemons halved, juiced and squeezed
1 1/2 cup of water boiled with-
1 1/2 cup of Organic Cane Sugar (or Coconut Sugar) 
added until dissolvedAdd it all for perfection! 

It's a concentrate you can chill and keep 1 Liter of in the fridge.
Dilute 1/2 cup of lemonade with 1/2 cup of water and a sprig of Mint.
It's Amazing!!

Good Job Dalton☀