If I am going to spew, I'll spew into this...blog

I read occasionally comments/updates/newsletters from other missionaries around the world, and even more often, here in Honduras. A recurring theme I find in them reminds me just how odd we as a couple happen to be.

God fills us with love for Honduras...we want to live here, we see the beauty of living here and working here. Lest you miss what I said...all that is due to God.

I have no desire to live somewhere else, no daily contempt for what is around me, no frown at looking around.

Yes...I fully recognize that in much the same way that the scales fell from my eyes to first actually see Valerie who had been close enough around me to see for some time, that we are given the eyes we have to want to live here....to have a burning desire to buy a home here.

That is not to say though, that we do not have struggles living here just like anyone else does anywhere else.

The mere thought of the construction project this year for the Church building weighs on my chest like a loaded bench press that you can not quite get up. You push, and push...but the weight remains and seemingly goes nowhere.

I know that the current building has its foundation rotting around it. I also know the new building will not be something I can make happen by myself...it is going to take a huge amount of physical help, and divine intervention. But in my human vision when I look around, when I talk to the Church about our progress...all there is to see is me. I think of the Colin Hay song “Overkill” that he originally recorded with Men at Work

(listen to the great acoustic version I found recently here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5iuhQ2QWjKA )

“I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I'll be alright
It's just overkill”


The current building might be falling apart...it may be way too small and unsecure for the Churches needs...it may be a way for us to help the Church, help ourselves, and increase both our outreaches to the community, but I took this picture in that old building because it reminds me that beauty is found in many places we may not expect, and somehow it just gave me a little hope to see the greater beauty in the promise of what that new building will mean. But...I still feel the weight.



Just looking at this picture makes me want to cry. His dad left him in line where we were while he left “to get them a drink” I presumed that meant he would quickly return with a Coke in a bag. Quickly you could see the little boy was not ready for the task...he was crying. His dad was gone at least 1/2 hour, perhaps more. I saw the dad return eventually...I did not see any refreshing beverage.

Now...I can identify with this boy. I wanted to cry a little too...I waited in line for three hours (nice and warm there of course) only to be told that all the paperwork I had was not enough...they wanted more, and at least one piece I thought a bit obscure and one I had never been requested to provide before. No matter who you are...it is frustrating to need to get something done...and be met with constant roadblocks. Now I have to look forward to another three...or more...hour line, and the possibility again of being told there is more to come.

This little boy needed his daddy. He had only strangers to console him, and that did not work. I constantly need my Daddy too. He got me where I am...how foolish the continual infantile doubting and being scared at each new thing He puts for us to do. He is not out getting a Coke...He is right there....right here.