My Return to Honduras

It was short.

Too short.

Whenever you spend a month getting to know people, three days is far too short a time to spend with them, especially if you hardly speak the language. We arrived on Friday and spent time fellowshipping and greeting the believers. The weather was fresh, cold, breezy, and cloudy, a far cry from the heat of El Salvador. On a side note, I definitely wouldn’t mind living in Honduras some day.

The church there is continuing to grow, but there’s been some minor infighting and jealousy among the believers. When I heard about this, I was saddened, because those are the things that tear up friendships and brotherhood. When Satan finds out that he cannot defeat a church with outside pressures, I believe he tries to attack and divide up the brethren, because a kingdom divided against itself will be ruined (Matt 12:25).

There was a clothing giveaway a few months ago that caused some of the brothers to get angry with each other, because they were concerned that someone got more clothes than the other. It’s a childish fight, but then again, these men and women in the church are youth in the faith.

As a result, on that night, Mike informed me that I would be teaching the believers the next day.

“Great,” I thought. “I didn’t need time to prepare anyway.” 

Preparation is truly a luxury. Especially on the missions field...

So, the next morning, I spent my time scrambling to prepare, but God was with me and somehow I managed to put together a coherent message, which is evident that the spirit of God was over it. Then, after breakfast, we had a miniature seminary where Mike and I exhorted the brothers to live in unity... and warned them of the effects of pride, materialism, and hypocrisy. I taught from Ephesians 4:22-32, where Paul exhorts the believers to put off the old ways and to put on the new self... by renewing our minds. And our minds can only be renewed if we’re in contact with our creator who sustains us.

We told them that it’s foolish to think that there will never be conflict. We’re sinners ministering with and to sinners. But what do we do when we end up in conflict? Do we reconcile and forgive, or do you hold grudges and spread gossip?

And I feel their pain, because I’m terrible at confrontations. I’ve been the one to spread gossip, and I’ve been the one to hold a grudge. Forgiveness for people we’re at odds with is NOT something we can do in our own strength. It is completely foreign to fallen man, who only forgives for selfish reasons. It’s something I’m learning... and I’ve been asking: For whose sake do we forgive? For the sinful person who wronged us? For ourselves?

Yes, those are good reasons... but that alone won’t bring change. Because the only way to forgive is to forgive as Christ forgave us. So I ask again, for whose sake do we forgive? For the Lord’s sake. In other words, don’t resolve an argument or fight where you both compromise on your beliefs. Agree in the Lord. (Phil 4:2-3). There is never compromise when something is done for the Lord and through the Lord. If you agree on human terms, will your reconciliation last? Will it strengthen your faith?

When sinners argue, sin is present on both sides of the fight. Rather than giving into the other person’s sinful point, agree with them for the Lord’s sake. Forgive them for the Lord’s sake and in gratitude to what He’s done.

After the meeting and a snack, Mike left me alone with the Honduran believers and (thank goodness) a translator. So we traveled up and across the road, and up the ridge near Hacienda Grande. We spoke briefly with several of the families, including a mother who had a very sick child that the believers were praying for. Thank God that the child was healed... and doing quite well. The mother was grateful for our prayers. We visited several others on the ridge briefly, sharing words of encouragement and exhortations from scripture, but did not get involved in an in depth conversation.

Afterwards, we rested at the top of the ridge near a Mayan ruin (yeah, Honduras is just that way), and goofed off. Marvin found a pistol shaped rock and explained to me that it must be an ancient Mayan pistol. Naturally, I felt the urge to strike a pose with said rock.

Marvin returned the favor.

I was able to speak specifically with Marvin about the dangers of pride afterwards through the translator, because as the first believer, we’re particularly concerned that he won’t fall into the trap of pride.

Let’s be clear. Pride will KILL your faith. The moment you begin thinking you are something special (beyond what God is clear on in scripture), is the moment that you lose your dependence and reliance on God. God uses the foolish and weak things of this world to shame the ‘wise’ and the ‘strong’. If we consider ourselves ‘strong’, ‘wise’, or overly important... we’re not, and we’re going to rely on ourselves rather than on God.

I’ve been trying to kill my own pride recently. So I exhorted him with something that’s helped me: Christ’s example of humility in Philippians 2. God uses the humble... he brings up the lowly, but he’ll lay the proud low.

It was a good conversation, and I pray that God will help Marvin be an example in humility for the brothers and sisters there. As you read this, pray for him!

We ended out the day with an excellent meal cooled by Laticia... and I was reminded yet again of how much I miss Honduran food. We met and discussed the church and some of the issues facing the believers. There’s still quite a bit of persecution. Many people who want to come to the church cannot for fear of being kicked out of their homes or having their water turned off by the leaders of the village. Yet someone has said that she will shortly be attending the church services despite all the threats. So we’re praying for Gumercinda Contreras (the woman)... that God will protect her and bless her decision to stand up to the persecution.

The next day, we held church services, and left after saying goodbye to the brothers and eating lunch. It was too short, and before long, we were on the road again. But there’s something else I haven’t mentioned. In January, there’s going to be a church wide wedding for the couples who are living together. In obedience to the Lord, seven of them will be getting married, including my friend Marvin.

Mike told a story that when he was speaking on marriage and obedience to the Lord, a man unexpectedly stood up in the middle of the service.

He walked over to his girlfriend of thirty years.

He dropped on one knee.

And he proposed to her.

Beautiful. That’s what I have to say about the Lord’s work there. He couldn’t even wait until the end of the teaching. He wanted to obey the Lord and show love for his wife in front of everyone. This is what the grace of God does to people who are living in sin.

The people of Honduras, especially Marvin, have invited me to come to the wedding, and I’m greatly honored. I pray that I will somehow be able to raise the finances and to find a cheap flight there, because I really want to support something so amazing.

A church provided the money for the weddings, because the people would be too poor to register for a wedding license or hold a ceremony. They’ve provided enough funds for a celebration that even the unbelieving friends and family can attend. Everyone will be invited, because we want everyone to partake in their joy, and to have a chance to see what the grace of God is doing.

So keep praying for the church there. Pray that the believers in secret will overcome their fear of losing their houses and family, and that they will openly profess Jesus’s name. Pray that the leaders of the village will have their hearts changed, and that they too will come to faith.

Pray for Hascienda Grande, Ostuman, Carsialon, Carisalito... those are the villages where our brothers in Christ live there.

Thanks for reading,

- Paul

Leaving... again

I am seriously the worst blog writer ever... this was supposed to be written in four parts... in the four weeks after my trip. And here I am on the eve of my new trip, and I’m just now writing this? Ouch.

So this is going to wrap up my Honduras trip, and be a preview of my new trip...

It’s amazing how the time I spent there seemed so long. I was only there a month, but it felt like several... even a year. Every day, we’d wake up and prepare a full breakfast, study the scriptures, and then head off to encourage a brother or share our hope in Christ with someone in the village.

Then, we’d eat a similarly long lunch and leisurely make our way to a bible study at a village down the road. And every Saturday, we made the trek up to Carisalito, a nearby village at the top of a ridge. We usually held a service there, and I usually spent some time entertaining the kids during the service... which is surprisingly difficult when you can’t speak Spanish.

Still, for the most part, games like ‘tag’ and ‘cops and robbers’ proved to be a universal language. Then there came the Saturday where it rained the entire service. So I sat there, staring at the kids... and they stared right back at me. If I didn’t start entertaining them soon, they’d start to interrupt the service. So I entertained the kids by mimicking different strange voices and doing an impression of an old man. And of course, during all the funny acting, I butchered their language, to much laughter.

Well, not that it took much more work than usual to butcher Spanish. I have a special talent for that, apparently. I studied what Spanish I could every day, and each day, discovered new frustrations as I tried to communicate more and more. Still, I made steady progress – at least in speaking in the present tense. Looking back though, I remember several of the conversations I had clearly in English, even though they happened in a mix of Spanish and impromptu sign language. Just the other day, I remembered a conversation I had about some fruit that grew there, and I could have sworn there was a translator present... but after searching my memory... I came to the strange realization that I was the only English speaker present, and that the conversation was completely in Spanish.

So as my Spanish grew, I enjoyed my time talking to the missionaries and locals more and more. And the missionaries, Antonio and Laticia became my surrogate parents for the time I was there. They took care of me and showed me what it really means to serve others and show hospitality. The food was excellent, and more plentiful than I could imagine. They even joked that my parents wouldn’t recognize me when I got back, because I put on so much weight.

Fortunately, God had other ideas. Our truck broke down in the middle of my time there, which meant that for two weeks, our only transportation was our own two feet. All that walking saved me, and I actually ended up losing some weight by the end of my time there, despite having much more food than I needed. (I have got to start a missions trip diet plan... I’m sitting on a goldmine there.)

And slowly it dawned on me that even in a country wracked with poverty, here I was well fed and taken care of, with shelter, safety, and friends. God is so good to me wherever I go. I know that the day will come when my earthly needs are not so aptly met, but God has blessed me beyond anything I can imagine... no matter wherever I go. 

With these thoughts, my concern went to those who are not so blessed. And I started to consider how I could share my blessings with those around me... which is the topic of a future letter on “Fasting for Food”.

During my short stay in Honduras, the church continued to grow. Like any church, it has its share of problems and petty squabbles, but the love that each member has is very clear. Because most of the members are very recent converts who spent most of their time drinking and getting drunk, some still fall into their old habits.

In His grace, God created this church out of nothing. A year and a half ago, there were no believers in the entire region. No brotherhood, no fellowship... only a group of desperate men and women whose only pastime was getting drunk, stealing, and causing trouble. Marvin recalled a story to me where he chopped a radio in half while it was hanging from his friend’s head.

‘Fun’ with machetes...

... while drunk.

Wow. By God’s grace, Marvin never killed anyone... although he came close several times, by his own admission.

But it’s just like God to create something out of nothing. He created the light and separated it from the darkness in Genesis 1, and he’s continued that work in Honduras, where He’s separating people from the darkness and giving them light.

“God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts...”

2 Corinthians 4:6

So be encouraged, the Lord is still creating something out of nothing...

And so, to honor the Lord’s work there, I plan on returning on Thursday... to encourage the brothers and sisters. There have been some issues between some of the brothers and sisters, so I pray that there will be peace. So with that in mind, pray for me that I will boldly share what needs to be shared, and that the brothers and sisters down there will continue fighting the good fight. 

Look for an update (no, really) halfway through the missions trip.

Until then God bless!

Honduras I: Arrival

We arrived in Honduras on the 18th of July, and immediately went to the house of one of the leaders in Hascienda Grande to talk to them. They seemed friendly enough, but Antonio and Laticia looked uncomfortable. And now, finally after my time there, I understand why.
The next day Mike taught on baptism and the Lord’s supper, and set up a future date for a baptism, since no one in the church was baptized yet. Then, we set off for Carisalito, a village on the border between Guatemala and Honduras. We drove down the highway and stopped randomly on the side of the road to let everyone off. The mountains rose all around us impressively. Then we found the trail, a muddy, slippery stretch of land bordered by barbed wire on both sides. After all, it’s encouraging to know that if you slip and fall, the barbed wire is there to catch you.

I tried not to dwell on it.

And so, we slipped, slid and slogged our way up the trail and up into the mountains. It wasn’t overly dangerous, just difficult. I was rather pleased with my progress until Mike pointed out the mothers nursing their babies as they climbed up the trail in flip flops, compared to my tennis shoes. Yes, my pride took a hit, but at least I hadn’t complained. I’m pretty sure Mike the missionary wouldn’t have let me hear the end of it.
It's incredible to me that nearly the entire church goes there to minister every week. Men, women, and children alike all make the difficult journey just for the opportunity to serve their Lord. When's the last time a church did that in the states? Especially if that ministry were at the end of an hour hike up a mountain? If we had a faith like that here, I believe the course of this country would be quite different. But we've all turned to go our own ways, and the Lord's work sits on the wayside. How do I know? I've been the chief offender. And worse, I've known for a long time the right thing to do and havn't done it.

But this time... I'm bringing back some fire with me. The example I've seen in Honduras is compelling, inspiring, and yes, convicting.

When we finally got there, we rested for awhile, then split off for ministry. Carisalito is a beautiful village: remote and full of palms that wave in the breeze. It’s cool and crisp up there most of the time because it sits near the top of a ridge. And neater still is our brother in the Lord, Herlindo, who lives there. Each Sunday, he travels an hour and a half of difficult terrain just to come worship with us at church. And each Saturday, he opens his house so that we can come share the word there in a service, and shows us incredible hospitality. How many of us would do that? Would I do that?

I hope so...
...but I don’t know.

For the ministry, I ended up grouped with a bunch of Honduras, and we visited a few houses and ministered. It was there that I began to find my place. A month before, I was worried that I wouldn’t have a place when ministry started, because I couldn’t even hold a conversation with my friends... let alone strangers in their homes.
But God gifted me with just enough Spanish to speak during that month. He gave me just enough Spanish to speak and follow conversation. But more importantly He also taught me the power of His word. So while we sat in our first house there, I opened my bilingual bible and let it speak on my behalf. After all, what is more powerful than the word of God himself?
It’s living and active, sharper than any sword. It can cut through body and soul and bring healing, rebuking and correction. In the Psalms, David cries out again and again that he lives off of God’s every word. So it was a cool opportunity. Instead of sharing my thoughts and my ideas, I let God’s word speak for itself. Then, my Spanish brethren picked up the slack and explained the verses clearly for them. It was beautiful cooperation, and set the stage for a month of incredible ministry.

After our time there drew to a close, we began to climb down the slope, but heavy clouds met us as we descended, and soon the cloudy sky broke out into a downpour. Naturally, this only improved the trip down. I couldn’t exactly say that we walked down the mountain; it was more akin to sliding. Mike joked that they should make a Disney ride or something. If they do, I suggest they remove the barbed wire. After a wet car ride back in the rain, we arrived back thoroughly soaked and exhausted.

The next day, we had a brief church service. Laticia, the missionary’s wife and one of the locals were headed to El Salvador so that the local woman could receive medical care, which meant that for four or five days, Antonio and I would be left to our own devices. So as soon as the service ended the team departed, leaving me feeling alone and forlorn. I watched them depart, then turned around to face my Honduran brethren, who cheered. It was encouraging, and a foreshadowing of my time with them.
Antonio, the missionary, and I set out for Copan and visited the home of Oscar and Valentina. Oscar’s suffered incredible physical problems since his conversion. He had a massive tumor removed the year after he came to Christ. Since then, he’s been unable to walk, and nearly blind. His wife has to work, and they’ve struggled incredibly. He’s living proof of Christ’s promise to us, “In this world you WILL have trouble.”
But his faith is also testament to Christ’s other promise that we will overcome, because He overcome first. He told us that the past eight years have been the best of his life. Why? Knowing Christ is better than health, money, and anything else this world has to offer.

I only hope to respond the same way when its my turn to suffer.

My visit with them, and the cheers of my brothers helped set the tone for the trip. Not all missionaries get that kind of blessing when they begin their ministry. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to arrive on a foreign shore alone, where you don’t know if the locals coming to meet you are there to harm or help you. But those men and women, those heroes of the faith are the reason I’m even on missions. I want a faith like that.

I stand on the foundation laid by giants. I pray God also uses me.

There’s so much more to write of my time in Honduras, so I’ve decided to release four entries, one for each week I was there. Until then, please pray for the Church there, that God would grow and strengthen them.

So many things to say...

In missions, you generally start out with a plan.

Then, the plan gets revised, because something happens.
Then, the plan gets postponed, because someone comes for a visit.
Then, suddenly you end up enacting the plan, because whoever was coming for a visit didn´t show up.

Yeah, something like that.


I´ve been intending to update this blog for weeks. So two weeks ago, Mike dropped me off at the internet cafe for an hour. I walked up to the internet cafe, and saw a sign: "cerrado" (closed)

So instead of updating this as I intended, I ended up sitting outside in the heat for forty minutes.

And then the team came rolling in like a tornado, thirty strong. I expected that there may be some extra time, as there usually is with teams. But God thought differently. We were so busy as a team, that there was quite literally only time for eating and sleeping.

And I wouldn´t have had it any other way.

So where do I begin? Well, I forgot my notebook, because we ended up rushing to the internet cafe. And because we rushed to the internet cafe, I also didn´t get a chance to write my blog out before hand, or even upload the blogs I finished before...

And did I mention that this may be my last chance before I go off the radar for a month in Honduras?

Man has many plans, but God trumps them all. Life´s surprising that way.

So what do I say with so little time?

Well, I´ll begin by saying that our team of thirty that rolled in had no translators. The only people who spoke Spanish were more out of practice than I was. Alex, our usual translator and local guide had work the whole week. All the translators from the states also had to cancel. So here we were, thirty clueless gringos with about a hundred words of Spanish between all of us.

Sounds like the makings of a disaster, right?
Surprisingly, no.

Remember that God´s plans trump anything man plans.
This group was one of the hardest working groups I´ve had the privilege of working with.
They did everything from manual labor, to walking miles on foot, to spending hours in several villages without any translators. All without arguing and complaining. All with enthusiasm, even in the end, when getting up in the morning seemed like an impossible task.

In the villages, we visited people in their homes, going from house to house and talking with them and sharing the gospel. And oddly enough, I began to serve as the speaker for the group...
And then from speaker... I moved on to translate the greater part of a message in Spanish.

And despite the fact that I still only understood a part of what the people said, we still were able to communicate clearly.

At one house, we shared the gospel with a woman named Mirian and spoke with her a little bit about life and shared a bit of the gospel of John. At the end, we thanked her for the conversation and asked what she needed prayer for. Of course, when I asked that, I realized that I probably wouldn´t understand her request. But it came in loud and clear.

She was deported from the states about five years ago. But somehow, she left her husband and two children behind. Since then, she hasn´t seen them. The women in our group were shocked when they heard, and embraced her. Tears rolled down her cheeks as we prayed for her. When we left, she thanked us profusely. The whole visit was, in a word, beautiful.

God still provided a way for us to minister, despite the odds against us. Never bet against Him.

And now, I have to go, but please remember to pray for Mirian, that she would be able to see her family again, and that she would come to know Jesus Christ, who gives the hopeless hope. Keep praying for Mike´s family as they try to finish Sofia´s adoption. And pray also for me, as I go into Honduras, that God would help me learn the language quickly, and that I would refresh the missionaries there and share the gospel boldly.

In the name of our Lord Jesus,
- Pablo

No joke, banana peels are slippery

Right, so you're wondering about the title. I had an epiphany as I sprayed for mosquitoes. My co-workers led me to the back of a house, and wanted me to send some of the fumes down a massive cistern at the back of the property. Problem was, the place they led me was a steep three foot slope. I started to side, massive fumigation machine and all. I quickly caught my balance and decided to jump, because the ground looked nice and level at the bottom. The problem was, I didn't see the banana peels lying on the ground directly where I would land. My feet hit, and for a second I had my balance. Then, the banana peels gave way and took my feet right out from under me. I landed with a thud on my side, cradling the machine, all dignity lost. And no joke, banana peels aren’t just slippery in cartoons.

So much for making a good impression. Still, they said I did a good job, especially for my first time. Perhaps I missed my calling as a pest control agent.

Or not.

When we finished, I was able to speak with some of Alex's co-workers, and some of the workers from the local town. They reminded me, once again, that I was banned from playing soccer in their city by order of Carlos the mayor. (Seriously, that's how Carlos remembers me.) We laughed and joked for awhile, and I shared with them my earnest desire to learn more Spanish. I hope and pray I get the chance to take a class when I return to the states. But still, my Spanish is improving.

I’m loving the opportunities to learn and grow here. God’s helping me to redeem the time well, and to speak of his name even in my cave-man Spanish.

After the storm...

After the storm:

Once again I feel centered. When I last wrote, things seemed to be spiraling downhill everywhere. We were hit with bad news from all sides. From people in the village going to the hospital in a coma to problems trying to build a church in another village to my personal feelings of helplessness, we had our share of concern.

But just as the Psalmist writes, the man of God has no fear of bad news. First of all, I feel much better about my time here, and considerably more useful. And even more important, Silvia, the girl in the coma is now at home. We visited her today, and she is on her feet: a walking miracle. The doctor's didn't think she'd live just a week and a half ago.

While some issues remain unsolved, like the church project in Icaco, God has provided a respite from bad news.

Miguel, a reporter for one of the largest newspapers in the country visited La Esperanza and stayed the night along with his family. He's doing a story on the adoption of little Sofia. We ended up working for half a day straightening up the building so that their stay was as pleasant as possible. We rolled out the red carpet for him, and were not dissapointed. God is doing some good things in his heart. While he was here, he was moved by the love he saw.
"Never before," he said, referring specifically to Sofia. "Have I seen such love for someone who is not your flesh and blood."
At the end of the stay, he thanked us for treating him, his wife, and his son like family.

He also joined us for an unusual event. The youth we've befrinded here invited us to help them milk their cows at 4:30 this morning. Well, they originally told us 5:00. Then they moved it to 4:30. Then this morning, they showed up at 4:00. I havn't gotten up that early in... let's not talk about it. The reporter also followed us and documented the event with photos, which I hope to have in my possession eventually.

So while it was still pitch black, we walked down and ant infested trail to the cow pen, which is muddy, and full of unspeakable things, horrible things. Ok ok it's not that bad, but I had to trade my shoes out for some boots they offered. In the process, I discovered that milking a cow is yet another thing I have no natural talent with. But it's amazing how proficient the locals are at it. After we finished, in the early morning light, they shared a drink named ponche with us, which was absolutely delicious and perfect for an early morning treat (recipe found at the end).

Afterwards, we shared a traditional El Salvadorian breakfast with Miguel the reporter and his family. Then, Mike shared some of the word of God with him and presented him with a Bible. He was nearly moved to tears, and I pray that he will accept Christ in time. I love their family. Even though we only spent a brief time with them, I feel as though they were friends. And naturally, I hope that they come to know the ultimate friend, Jesus Christ. Please pray for him.

Another man arrived this past week. His name is David, and he's one of the hardest workers I've ever met. Already, he's repainting the fence and working on oh, about fifty other projects at once. I helped him a little, and I'll do well to take more opportunities to work with him.

Dan continues to work with the young men of this community. Be sure to pray for his ministry (more on that in the next blog).

And just for kicks, apparently, I wrote this blog on Monday the 6th. We went to the nearby city to go shopping for a few things before the teams arrived, which gave me the opporunity to go to the internet cafe. They dropped me off near the cafe, and I arrived to find the sign "cerrado". So I ended up sitting on the curbside waiting until they arrived back, and wishing I'd brought my Spanish English Bible...

Still, my Spanish is getting better. Be sure to pray for that too.

In Christ,
- Hermano Pablo

--- --- ---
Poche:
1 Drinking cup (for mixing and serving)

1 Banana
Suger (Azucar)
Ground Coffee (Cafe)
Fresh Milk

Use a spoon to mash up the banana in the bottom of a drinking cup until it's nearly liquid.
Then, take the suger and pour it in and mix some more.
Finally, pour some fresh warm milk in (preferrably right out of the cow)
Add the coffee and stir

Drink and enjoy.

Serving Size: Yourself... Mmmmm...
--- --- ---

When it Rains...

The Schadt family left us for a little while this past week to spend some time as a family now that Sofia is with them. So Dan and I were left alone on the property for two days. Each night, it stormed incredibly, which is an INCREDIBLE blessing here. The wind gusted and the rain poured unbelievably. Being like we are, we went running around in the rain like crazy men. Since the storms moved so quickly from the mountains, the rain was cold and refreshing. We spent a lot of time around the property, since the rain canceled all the events we had planned in the evenings. There are no vehicles when the Schadts are gone, so we´re forced to stay in one place.

But like the storms outside, storms have been building here as well. In my heart, a battle´s been raging. I´m struggling here. I feel as though I´m wasting my time sometimes, because I´ve been doing a lot of waiting. I´m not entirely sure why the Lord has put me here, and I´d like to end that on a happy thought, but I can´t in clear conscience. So instead, I´ll ask you to pray for me. Pray that I´m used here, and that somehow my time will get used.

After the Schadts returned, we went and spent four hours at a local man´s house, speaking with him and urging him to salvation. His name´s Raoul. I liked him from the moment I met him. We talked about politics, life, and naturally, religion. He´s intelligent, and he seems to have a genuine concern for his family, but for some reason, he can´t make the final steps and accept Christ´s love for him. He acknowledges that what we are saying must be true, but he´s waiting. Pray that the Lord breaks through and convicts him of his dire need for Jesus. Still, things have changed in his life since his wife became a believer. He was a hard hearted, macho guy before his wife came to faith, and his heart´s been softening since then. So I pray the softening continues...

The next day, we climbed an extinct volcano that dominates the landscape around the church. It took about six hours to finish the whole trip, and it re-defines difficult... I guess I´ll finish this part later, we´ve got to head out.

While Mike was gone, I also found out from one of the kids who comes to English class, Carlos Alberto, that his sister got into an automobile accident and is in the hospital. It was only when Mike returned and started asking that we realized how bad her situation was...

Her name is Silvia. She was getting on a bus, and apparently the driver got tired of waiting and jerked the bus forward, sending her flying onto the pavement. She cracked her skull in three places and burned and bruised her arms. The doctors didn´t think she´d live, but she´s still fighting five days later. Mike and Alex, the local doctor, visited her along with her family. If you knew Alex, you´d know he never cries, but he broke down when he saw her condition. The hospital is like a tin oven. Each room is packed full of people with no privacy, and bugs and the smell of urine permeate the whole building. Five days later, Silvia is still bleeding from her eyes, her nose, her mouth, and her ears. She´s been in and out of a coma, but she did manage to sit up while Alex and Mike visited.

Mike and Alex were so moved by her condition that they went to the local store and bought supplies for her, like a small fan with a clip that can attach to the gurney. We also bought gatorade and water for the mom, who hasn´t left her side since she arrived. The mom wept tears of joy when she saw all they brought for her.

Please pray for this family. They do not know the Lord or the hope he provides, so pray that God will heal Silvia and use this tragedy to draw this precious family to Himself.

Thanks for your prayers...
Here´s to hoping the Lord works incredible things with my remaining time.