Thanks to God...

            This country has taught me to appreciate many things.  I have learned to be thankful for a common meal.  I have come to value the clothes on my back.  I have a newfound desire for a more simplistic life.  But above all I learned something from the people of this country.

            The other day when I entered the kitchen, the cleaning lady, Margarita, was doing dishes.  “Good Moring’ she said. (In Spanish, of course)  So I replied, in my mediocre Spanish “ Good morning, how are you?”  “Good, Thanks to God” Margarita answered.  I began to dwell on this.

            So many times I have heard Hondurans answer with “Gracias a Dios.”  They thank God for something as simple as daily living.  Living and living well is important to survival of themselves and family.  In the States, we take a sick day or medicine and don’t give it a second thought.  But here they attribute every day to God and give thanks for everything.  They understand that “God holds in his hands the beginning, the middle, and the end of all that is.”  Because they know this they praise him all the more.

            But in the states, we think we have control over situations.  We think this because we have not experienced poverty, hunger, parasites, bad water, and barely inhabitable living conditions.  I rarely think about all things belonging to God; the beauty of this world, the wonder of its creatures, and the miracle of human life.  So, I try.

            I try to thank him for the simple aspects of life; the chances he gives me, the health I have, and the encounters with his people.  If I know God is in this place, why aren’t I signing nonstop, dancing without ceasing, and praising without end a God that is infinite?

 

…the earth is full of his unfailing love.

       -Psalm 33:5b-

Carlos

The other night we took the group to the El Picachu (a giant statue of Jesus Christ).  We planned on a bible study and to enjoy the breathtaking view of the city.  Every time I am up there, the view of the lights illuminating the cool air impacts my heart, but this time it was more than the view.

            Carlos is an 18-year-old Honduran who lives with us at Jen’s house.  His life has been plagued with surrendered temptations.  He got into drugs, alcohol, and trouble with girls.  Needless to say his life was in disarray.

            Just before out devo time, Carlos and Jen had a talk.  They decided that Carlos should share what’s going on in his life.  Carlos began to speak and immediately choked up. 

            In his class, they asked him to describe his family.  His relationship with his mother is shaky at best and like many in this country, he did not know his father.  Thinking deeply about it troubled him.  Carlos realized how much he really loved his mother and the sacrifices she had made for him to have a better life.  So his family portrait consisted of his mother and brothers.  He added angels at the top.  With tears in his eyes he said we were the angels.  Jen was like having another mother.  Ashley was a sister.  And David and I, resembled the father he never got to meet. 

            Voice shaking and tears in his eyes he made us promises.  He promised to be a better person.  His desire was to be a man of God.  He put his whole heart on his sleeve that night.

            We all shared hugs with tears steaming down our faces.  We can all learn a lot form that young man.