I went to Honduras, and now I can solve all the problems!
Well folks, I'm home. After nearly 2 weeks of traveling to Asheville and then Honduras, I have seen a much more varied and colorful spectrum of the world than I usually see in my corner of South Carolina. I feel quite confident in saying that after spending 8 days in Honduras, I know exactly how to fix immigration, Honduras, and modern missions. We just need to.... just kidding. I have absolutely no flipping idea how to fix any of it. Not a single bit. =D
I'll definitely be writing up a post on all the things we saw and did in Honduras for those of you that are interested, but I need to work through my big ideas first. Leading up to our trip, I read different articles and posts on what to expect when I get home. I expected and prepared to feel a rush of anger at the excess I'm surrounded by. Maybe that will come in time, but that's not the feeling I'm getting yet. I expected to have a difficult time dealing with the disparity between the two cultures, but what struck me were the similarities. I mean, yes. We saw poverty unlike anything I've experienced before, and it's really NOT okay. Most of the roads are not paved. Safe drinking water has to be purchased in bottles. Driving laws feel more like suggestions. Crops are harvested by hand. Life is hard. And while I in no way want to ignore it, I'm going to put all that in a big, ugly box and set it aside for a minute because what I also saw were people that care deeply about and sacrifice for their children's education. I saw people living their lives, working to provide for their families. I saw people dealing with unemployment and looking daily for a job. I saw little girls that love Frozen, dolls, and shoes. I saw people doing their grocery shopping, eating meals with their friends and family, and sharing what they had with others. I saw people selling creations that would fly off the Etsy shelves (if Etsy had shelves). They are not so different from the people I see here every day. The how was different, but the what and why were not.
Our purpose for going to Honduras was to visit with our friends that live and serve there. Brooke was my college roommate. I've known her longer than I've known my husband (Sisters before Misters). Every fall we eagerly await her and her family's return to the States so we can steal a few afternoons or evenings with them to hear about their lives. For one week, we wanted to walk some miles beside them, and that's exactly what we did.
Now then. I already told you that I haven't felt the expected frustration at the current state of Honduras compared to our US luxury, but that doesn't mean I don't feel frustration. My frustration is at the lack of support for the people on the ground working every day to serve the community they are a part of. My mission was never Honduras. Throughout my adult life, God has always led me to the people that serve the people. Those are the ones that I am drawn to serve. I am not a front line kind of girl no matter how much I desire to be so. I am tailor made for behind the scenes support. Anyone that has been involved in ministry for more than five minutes knows that ministry almost always equals being overworked and underpaid. It's just what it is. We know it and jump in headfirst anyway with joy because it is our purpose. I don't think that makes it necessarily okay, but we all know what we're getting into.
What I saw in Honduras were people tirelessly working every single day to serve the people around them, and they're exhausted. There is so much work to be done yet not enough workers and money to go around. What's that verse say? The fields are white with harvest but the workers are few? That is what I saw. The fields are ripe for harvest in Honduras, but the supports are too few. They need our prayers, encouraging messages, care packages, our presence, and yes, our money. And you know what? They need it without having to beg for it or earn it. We can't and shouldn't all go across the world, but we can all help those that do.
Missionaries aren't really all that special. They're not closer to God or better than us non-missionaries. They have a job that seems more important in our eyes, but they're people doing the work set before them the same as you and I. Pastors in the US deal with the same underlying lack of concern or support in so many ways. We pile more onto their plates, and they accept it because it's important and needed. But are we burning them out? God, I hope not.
Honduras is not my calling. Every single person I know that's gone on a mission trip has come back saying how much they loved it and how they can't wait to go back again. Maybe I did it wrong or maybe it's because we didn't do a real-life "Got the T-shirt" mission trip, but honestly, that was not my takeaway. I didn't fall in love with Honduras. It was awe-inspiring and the most incredible place I've ever seen, but God didn't place a pull on my heart for that particular country. What He did put on my heart was a renewed passion for care/support for our ministers and church leaders whether they serve at my church or in Honduras. I suppose the people group I'm called to serve are the ones doing the serving.
Next time I'll share some pictures and experiences. Promise!
I'll definitely be writing up a post on all the things we saw and did in Honduras for those of you that are interested, but I need to work through my big ideas first. Leading up to our trip, I read different articles and posts on what to expect when I get home. I expected and prepared to feel a rush of anger at the excess I'm surrounded by. Maybe that will come in time, but that's not the feeling I'm getting yet. I expected to have a difficult time dealing with the disparity between the two cultures, but what struck me were the similarities. I mean, yes. We saw poverty unlike anything I've experienced before, and it's really NOT okay. Most of the roads are not paved. Safe drinking water has to be purchased in bottles. Driving laws feel more like suggestions. Crops are harvested by hand. Life is hard. And while I in no way want to ignore it, I'm going to put all that in a big, ugly box and set it aside for a minute because what I also saw were people that care deeply about and sacrifice for their children's education. I saw people living their lives, working to provide for their families. I saw people dealing with unemployment and looking daily for a job. I saw little girls that love Frozen, dolls, and shoes. I saw people doing their grocery shopping, eating meals with their friends and family, and sharing what they had with others. I saw people selling creations that would fly off the Etsy shelves (if Etsy had shelves). They are not so different from the people I see here every day. The how was different, but the what and why were not.
Our purpose for going to Honduras was to visit with our friends that live and serve there. Brooke was my college roommate. I've known her longer than I've known my husband (Sisters before Misters). Every fall we eagerly await her and her family's return to the States so we can steal a few afternoons or evenings with them to hear about their lives. For one week, we wanted to walk some miles beside them, and that's exactly what we did.
Now then. I already told you that I haven't felt the expected frustration at the current state of Honduras compared to our US luxury, but that doesn't mean I don't feel frustration. My frustration is at the lack of support for the people on the ground working every day to serve the community they are a part of. My mission was never Honduras. Throughout my adult life, God has always led me to the people that serve the people. Those are the ones that I am drawn to serve. I am not a front line kind of girl no matter how much I desire to be so. I am tailor made for behind the scenes support. Anyone that has been involved in ministry for more than five minutes knows that ministry almost always equals being overworked and underpaid. It's just what it is. We know it and jump in headfirst anyway with joy because it is our purpose. I don't think that makes it necessarily okay, but we all know what we're getting into.
What I saw in Honduras were people tirelessly working every single day to serve the people around them, and they're exhausted. There is so much work to be done yet not enough workers and money to go around. What's that verse say? The fields are white with harvest but the workers are few? That is what I saw. The fields are ripe for harvest in Honduras, but the supports are too few. They need our prayers, encouraging messages, care packages, our presence, and yes, our money. And you know what? They need it without having to beg for it or earn it. We can't and shouldn't all go across the world, but we can all help those that do.
Missionaries aren't really all that special. They're not closer to God or better than us non-missionaries. They have a job that seems more important in our eyes, but they're people doing the work set before them the same as you and I. Pastors in the US deal with the same underlying lack of concern or support in so many ways. We pile more onto their plates, and they accept it because it's important and needed. But are we burning them out? God, I hope not.
Honduras is not my calling. Every single person I know that's gone on a mission trip has come back saying how much they loved it and how they can't wait to go back again. Maybe I did it wrong or maybe it's because we didn't do a real-life "Got the T-shirt" mission trip, but honestly, that was not my takeaway. I didn't fall in love with Honduras. It was awe-inspiring and the most incredible place I've ever seen, but God didn't place a pull on my heart for that particular country. What He did put on my heart was a renewed passion for care/support for our ministers and church leaders whether they serve at my church or in Honduras. I suppose the people group I'm called to serve are the ones doing the serving.
Next time I'll share some pictures and experiences. Promise!
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