Something hit me recently. I realized that I finally understand at least a piece of why I’m here. I’ve always had a problem explaining to our suburban friends why we would choose to leave a wealthy country for a poor one. Once, I attempted explanation in a blog post about Why Honduras? Since I’ve actually started living here, many things have become clear and I’m possibly able to articulate a bit to you.

When we lived in the US on our beautiful country land, I had great intentions and dreams of serving others. In reality, though, I often had to plan out opportunities to serve others. We had to schedule a trip to the nursing home to sing. We had to plan a trip to the food pantry.  (Read between the lines... it rarely happened) My life was so scheduled and it was challenging to squeeze in service to others. When we lived in our rental house in suburbia, I found front doors that were rarely opened, garage doors always closed and shades drawn. The opportunity to serve seemed locked behind the beautiful fa├žade of happiness.

My theology tells me that the spiritual need in suburbia is great; my experience tells me that ministry in suburbia is the most difficult mission work to be accomplished.   

Here, all is raw and the chance to see and serve Christ is everywhere. I simply walk out of my door and there it is… a chance to provide open arms for children eager to love, a walk down the road that reveals a mother without food for her children. Here, in La Moskitia, love does not require a permit, training classes or a background check. Love requires only willing hands and more are needed.   Could you come?

There is something else… this sense that I see and feel Jesus here, in tangible ways, in irresistible ways. When I’m in the US, I feel like we often hide Jesus behind bible studies, Suburbans, to-do lists, and so on. He is SO present here, in the faces of these children, in the laugh of the women, in the work of the men. Are these people perfect? By no means. However, their fight for existence seems to lead them to say ‘Gracias a Dios’ (thanks to God) much more frequently than I hear it in the US.

Where do you see Jesus most clearly where do you feel His hand, where are you able to serve Him in the most vulnerable way?


Holly (me.) said…
Well said. It's a challenge to see through the veneer of shining Suburban civility to the raw material lying beneath. Too often, I see the veneer and turn away without taking the time to scratch the surface.

I think this is very possibly why it is the field God chose for us.

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