Hunkering Down

Today's guest bloggers are my daughter, Christina, and her boyfriend, Tyler White.  This is Tyler's mission trip and the first time he's needed a passport to leave the U.S.  Christina has been on this trip before in 2012.  This Tuesday post went up on Friday when we returned to the capital city of Honduras, Tegucigalpa. The internet at the ranch was completely out Tuesday and Wednesday. It was fixed on Thursday, but frozen molasses moves faster than the internet speed. Here is Christina and Tyler's post.

Christina and Tyler with Eduardo in background

Last night Tyler helped lead a group for our evening devotion and the topic was spiritual growth. They asked where each member of the group saw any kind of spiritual growth and it was amazing to see that almost everyone spoke about some way they had their eyes opened by God.

We as a couple wanted to share our individual days with you, to get two perspectives on our lives here, and speak together as a couple to what specifically God has opened our eyes to with this team.

Christina’s day:
How can someone attempt to describe a transcendental God movement with words? I will attempt it, but I pray you hear more than just my words when I say this.

My day began with breakfast, seasoned with the ever-present hint of hand sanitizer, before heading to the village. Tyler and I were excited to be assigned our jobs for the day, and (one of) the wonderful things about working here is how Gene separates people who know each other well (i.e. family or significant others) so we can get to know other team members better. Needless to say, we were separated.

My team and I headed off to a house that needed a latrine finished. Finishing the latrine called for tasks that are now habits for us: passing concrete blocks, mixing concrete, sifting sand, you know, the usual. 

While there were many people there working with or watching us today, one girl in particular stood out. Her name is Rosa and she has Down’s Syndrome. She seemed fascinated with us right from the get-go, and her mischievous smile indicated that she was planning something. 

To entertain her and a couple other children around, Zach Phillips, a 17-year-old member of the St. Andrew’s team, made the wonderful decision to pull out his bubbles. Man alive, did Rosa love those bubbles! We blew a few for her until she realized she could do it, then she promptly blew a few all over Zach’s face, and this laugh, this infectious laugh, bubbled up out of her as she realized how funny she thought she was. 

As we took turns entertaining Rosa, we finished building the septic tank, and concluded the day by putting the walls of the latrine together with mud. This family is special because they are able to make their latrine a room addition, thereby having indoor plumbing.

Somewhere between the concrete and the mudding, I realized that all of my dreams as a child of Little House on the Prairie being the ultimate life is literally the life that these people live and it drew up conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I have always dreamed of living that simple life of Laura Ingalls Wilder that these Hondurans have, but on the other, I found myself pitying them. 

It wasn’t until we got back to the ranch and I read a letter from my prayer partner that I realized something. The letter spoke of happiness versus joy in their letter today and quoted Oswald Chambers: “The Bible talks plenty about joy, but it nowhere speaks about a “happy” Christian. Happiness depends on what happens, joy does not. Happiness is not a sign that we are right with God; happiness is a sign of satisfaction, that all is well for the moment,—but that all of us can be satisfied on a lower level. Jesus Christ disturbs every kind of satisfaction that is less than delight in God.” 

Rosa had joy, and many of the other children had joy, and I realized that my mind has been too “me” oriented in that I have only seen this village through my American eyes, pitying those less fortunate than us, and I need to take those blinders off.


Tyler’s day:
To understand what truly happened today, let me back up to yesterday. I was placed in a group with Debi and Brad. Debi called me and Brad her “go-getters” because of our ability and eagerness to work hard and fast. 

It was frustrating at the start, since both Brad and I struggled to find a way to apply our acquired knowledge from previous time in construction/carpentry work to the crooked logs and “foreign” crew of Honduran men before us. It was Debi’s veteran suggestions of patience and facilitation rather than the “git-r-done” attitude of two “newbies” that greased the wheels enough for work to start slowly, modestly, and with more patience than either of us wanted to muster. 

As the day moved on, Brad and I each noticed how the growing relationships with the Honduran men facilitated more trust with the tools and construction. Brad described it aptly, “As soon as we started getting to know each other, everything went mucho rapido.” He developed a working relationship with the mason Alonso, and Debi spent some time with the elderly couple who owned the property before stirring several volcanoes of cement. The whole project was started and finished in that one day; a first according to Debi.

My perspective, which started with determination to work hard, was shattered in favor of an overwhelming connection of brotherhood with the 21-year-old Jose Luis today. I worked very hard, broke a hard sweat, and impressed him with my abilities with a hammer and saw, but that was merely the media through which we connected on a fundamental level. Jose Luis continued to work with me, this time on his grandmother’s house. 

Our laughter, camaraderie, and brotherhood echoed from the previous day into today, and was reinforced with new love and companionship. The laughs from our bellies boomed into existence through smiles that somehow stretched wider than the day before as we moved onto the next house to see my new partners Jason and Jill play with an 8 year old girl whose name escapes me. They moved from bubbles to tennis balls to Jason’s magic tricks hiding pebbles and picking cards. As Jason and this little girl giggled so hard in each others’ faces that they ran out of breath, I saw the face of Jesus manifest itself: the childlike unadulterated joy that we all are called to pursue and grant others in order to pass through heaven’s gates.


These two stories from our experiences today are consistently echoed throughout the group and the core of our sentiment is reflected threefold: God’s love is moving everyone here, Jesus Christ is alive and thriving, and the Holy Spirit’s voice is facilitating communication purely from heart to heart despite any barrier it may encounter. 

We as a couple reflected upon this in a rare moment away from the group as we noticed the strengthening of our spiritual bond regardless of the relatively short time we have spent together since arriving. 

One thing has become increasingly clear as the relationships between Hondurans and Americans, as well as among our group, transforms into brothers and sisters in Christ (hermanos y hermanas e Cristo): the physical poverty is truly great in Honduras, but the spiritual richness is greater.