Coffee, my bean-loving friends, is everywhere in Honduras and ...believe me... I consumed my share of it while I was there for two and a half weeks in January. And so, I will begin my story with coffee.
It was over one of those steamy cups of java on my last day there that it all transpired... and I finally discovered a reason- if not the reason- why God took me all those miles down to the Banana Republic for half a month on a day's notice.
On a wide back porch in the fresh tropical air I opened my heart to her (a girl whose name I won't mention) and she opened her heart to me. Over coffee the two of us talked for hours; both of us, broken girls struggling to believe.... one with hope and one without. But Jesus chose to shine through and I got to watch it happen.
Maybe a bit of background would help...
Having a special place carved in my heart for Central America, I just about jumped out of my seat when I heard about the potential opportunity to accompany a friend down to Honduras for her dentist appointment the following weekend. It was on a Wednesday that I first heard about the possibility and began praying about it, but by the next evening it had all seemed to fall through. Disappointed, but concluding that it must not be God's will, I went back to normal life until Saturday morning when I was informed that I would be going after all. I'd be leaving the very next morning.
(Ahh, life's an adventure!)
So I had flown south, by way of Florida, and the Epic Adventure had begun.
Within the first week that I was in Honduras I'd been in the big city of San Pedro Sula three times, enjoyed the hammocks at the guest house multiple times, shopped in the local market, eaten fresh bananas, attended an entirely-Spanish church service, met many more wonderful brothers and sisters of mine, had a supper of homemade tortillas, beans, eggs and coffee with a local Christian family and learned a few more Spanish words.... among many other things.
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| our view from the back porch |
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| filling up the wringer washer to do some laundry |
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| buying fruit at a produce stand |
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| one of the busy shop-lined streets of the town |
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| laundry hanging out to dry |
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| the local church building that used to be a bar |
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| riding through town in the back of the truck |
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| natural beauty |
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| Linda, making tortillas for our meal |
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| Coffee beans, drying in the sun |
Then we headed out, Jess (my traveling companion and dear friend) and I, to the mountainous western part of Honduras for the second week. Finally got there near midnight after five hours of wonderful-crazy driving over never-ending pot holes with a native-wanna-be driver in an overcrowded truck. I absolutely loved the ride.
We spent those next few days volunteering at the little medical clinic up in the mountains of Carrizal, visiting with the missionaries who lived and worked locally, walking what we dubbed the "hobble-stone" (hazardously rocky) streets of Erandique as we visited several Spanish-speaking friends and poked our heads in the local shops. We bought vegetables on the sidewalk on market day, killed a scorpion in our bedroom, washed our clothes outside in the pila, spent our evenings by candlelight, took cold showers, shared many cups of coffee together, and watched the sun set brilliantly over the distant peaks every evening.
What a sweet time this was! I felt so encouraged and privileged to be there.
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| a little girl walking down the sidewalk |
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| plenty of yummy selections |
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| market day in Erandique! |
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| weighing up our purchase of carrots |
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| carrying the load together |
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| waiting for someone to offer them a ride in the truck bed to the top of the mountain |
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| a very typical little house nestled into the mountainside |
Still, I didn't know why I was there. Surely there was a purpose?
Nearly every morning I would wake up and wonder. I would ask God to show me why He had me there, and what He had special for me to do in this land that was not my home.
Slowly I began to consider that maybe there was no grand purpose in my being there.... no dramatic climax to this story... and that maybe He had me there for the sole purpose of being a blessing to His missionaries there. Maybe I was there to simply serve, and that is all. Was I open to that?
Or maybe He had me there to be quiet and still and listen for His voice. That's always a god thing! Maybe He wanted me to learn to follow Him anywhere even without knowing where or why I am going.
I'd never been here before. This was all new to me, this place. I am one who likes to understand.. who likes to be familiar with my surroundings... or at least know why I am where I am.
And I; the one who probably should have learned these things long, long ago; began to wake up each morning with a new purpose in mind. Still on my pillow one morning, I asked Him to just show me what He had for me that morning. To show me how I could benefit these, my brothers and sisters, that day.
I began to learn the skill of eating elephants.
"You can only eat an elephant," a friend told me a couple weeks ago "one bite at a time."
One bite at a time!
Finally I am beginning to see that it's the little things that are important.
It's the little things that change the world.
It's the changing of water into wine. It's the gentle taking of the children into the arms.
It's the words of Life being whispered to the dying.
It's the shouting of the message of hope to the lost, the confused, the afraid, the addict.
This is what changes the world.
And yes, the task of 'changing the world' often seems to loom over us in elephant-sized grandiosity, but when we realize that to be faithful in the very little things is the avenue by which we learn to be faithful in the huge things, we can begin to enjoy doing the little things.... we can enjoy taking on the challenge one bite at a time.
{I wish I was a faster learner, because these are some of the very things my parents have been encouraging me in for years!}
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| volleyball in the church yard |
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| the back porch |
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| I never realized how BIG banana leaves really are! |
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| One of the many hammocks hanging around |
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| lunch together on the last day |
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| Our favorite cafe, overlooking the main street of the town |
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| No, it wasn't alive |
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| our first glimpse of the falls |
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| Cataratas de Pulhupanzak |
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| A wonderful Sunday morning church service |
The trip drew near to a close, and the last day came. The day the Lord allowed another beautiful opportunity for me to see how big the little things really are.
Out on the porch I talked with this girl that I had only recently met and I discovered anew that we- every one of us- are broken. Without Jesus, we are all groping through the darkness of circumstances and personal wounds. Apart from Him we are hopeless and quite helpless to do anything about it.
She said I have something she wants.
Ah, if she only knew that I am rotten through and through... and that the only thing I have worth having is Jesus. I tried to communicate that to her.
Hmm. Wait a minute. Could it be that that is what we are all here for? Simply to point... to direct others to the Light? To shout "Hope!" to the elephant-sized hopelessness of aching humanity???
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| Cross overlooking the village of Erandique |
She and I... we prayed once more in the dark that evening and then parted ways. Jess and I flew home that night a little sad, but very much impacted by the whole two-week experience, and it wasn't long before we both got back into the swing of normal life.
But still; I remember.
Bite by bite, I am learning through this whole Central American adventure... and through the gentle working of His hand in my life since then.... that what counts is not necessarily the grand and glorious deeds we perform, but the small things... the little things we faithfully do in His name.
So I encourage you to be faithful in the little things. I encourage you to change this elephant-of-a-world one bite at a time. When you play with your kids... when you go about your daily tasks... when you wash the dishes... whether you're traveling the world or walking through the grocery store... in your conversations over coffee... wherever you are:
be faithful.
It's the little things that change the world.
And, ya know, I wouldn't be at all disappointed if that one conversation over coffee was the only reason He took fearful and doubting little me down there to the Banana Republic... for half a month... on a day's notice. When we choose to be faithful in the little things, who knows what He will choose to do with it later on.
