Tears drop even before the bus loads. For those that are staying, whispers of prayers begin. Red-cheeked, we hug. Grateful for our Pastor’s prayer before we leave for Honduras. Emotions run high. Some of us; we know. We know the smell of rot and stench that will permeate every fiber of us. We know the heat and blisters that will torment us as we build. We know that our hearts will be ripped. Shredded into sinew that only the Lord himself can heal, over time. I can feel that twinge of excitement mixed with bittersweet, raw emotion.
I am catapulted back in time to just over a year ago; fresh-eyed, ready to step off of firm soil into the unknown. A smile forms on my face remembering the laughter of brown-skinned kids, climbing all over me. Their laughter blows like wind through my ears. They are searching for the sweets they know I have tucked safely inside my pockets and the warmth of my arms wrapped tightly.
This starts our day and our plane boards.
My continuous prayer is that we are used in insurmountable ways by the Lord. That when we hit ground we ARE the hands and feet of our Savior. His hands, how they were pierced, sore and blistered. May we remember this as we tire. Allow us all to thrust our eyes Heavenward to see how tired and broken He was carrying the weight of the world. Allow His love to flow through us.
He is I am. Ever present.
For information on AFE our partner in Honduras: http://www.afehonduras.org
(This is my first journal entry the day we left for Tegucigalpa, Honduras Oct 17,2014)