Honduras, Day Four

The plan for Day Four (aka Wednesday) was to visit the Mayan Ruins at Copan. Even though I would have preferred to do more project and home visits, I knew that a day of emotional rest would do some good and give us a chance to process much of what we had experienced so far. My main concern was doing a lot of walking in the heat, since I had been struggling physically all week with blood pressure issues, retaining fluids while trying to fight dehydration... it wasn't pretty. The pants I had packed wouldn't fit, and yet only a week ago, there was room to spare.

I woke up on Wednesday really not feeling well, but praying that the weather would remain mild and bring some relief from the heat... prayers answered. Off we went!

The Copan Ruins are amazing to see in person.... the photos don't do it justice. It was neat to see this small scale model, though, just before we entered the park itself and saw them in person. Gave it even more perspective.



I have to admit, my awe and wonder often stemmed from wondering how in the world they built temples of such magnitude in this kind of jungle heat, but I am Canadian, what can I say? :)

The tour guide we had was exceptional -- very informative, funny, engaging. He set a great pace, not too fast, not too slow.



He even pointed out things like giant poison ivy plants... and suggested we don't use them as toilet paper if we're out in the bush...


At the entrance, we were greeted by a handful of these colorful birds. They were so beautiful, and free to fly around.





Walking through the trails, we saw very interesting vegetation. Some of the fruits were pretty big. Imagine how that would feel if it landed on your head? Hmmmm....




The climb was steep...



Felt like we were being watched...



The trees were amazing. I can't even begin to imagine the tree/life rings on some of these...


The guide showed us the root systems for some of these trees, and how they wound their way through the ruins. Amazing.

I loved seeing even the "younger" trees, and how they would grow right in the midst of the temple areas, the roots working their way around the stones and stairs.



It seemed as though everywhere we looked, there were "hidden pictures" within the scene before us. Carvings and stairs blending into the surroundings at every turn.





These carvings were massive... I'm trying to imagine the artist who made them centuries ago, what that must have been like to witness.



It would have made more sense to bring a wide angle lens...



The size perspective can be felt in this photograph...



At each turn was yet another photographer's playground...

(Dwight Jones)

Dizzying heights.... beautiful view. But beware the dangers...








Once in a while, I gave my camera to one of the Honduran guys, you know, for proof that I was really there.




Once in a while, I took the opportunity to prove how silly and awesome our team leaders are... like Kayla!!






Further ahead, the tour guide allowed us to sit for a break while he gave us some more history of our surroundings.



I couldn't hear what he was saying, the ringing in my ears was louder than usual, and to be honest, the beauty that God of God's creation around us was far more captivating...




Loved to see the force of nature in the midst of our surroundings -- like this rock that was determined to push against the growth of this tree.






The fruits...





This was one of my favorite photographs from that day... Which came first, the tree or the stairs? Obviously the stairs... but I love how the tree accommodated them so beautifully.





Ever feel you're being watched? Oh yeah... discussed that already. Carry on...




We had seen this tree from the bottom of the valley... seeing the base so close was quite an experience, this photo doesn't do it justice in the least.



The view was breathtaking...





And perfect for photos... individual, or in very small groups... With twenty cameras pointing their way, a fall would have been very well documented :)

(Steph & Kayla, two of our fearless leaders...)

The grand stairs were being restored, but the tour guide took us to see them and explain what we were seeing. My thoughts were a million miles away... I struggled to connect with a place where such brutality existed so many years ago... human sacrifices? In my heart, there was only one I could focus on, His name was Jesus.








The guide took us to the ball court area, where the Mayans played with 7-10lb rocks to try to knock out the other team's parrot heads... Wild.




Such elaborate places... so beautiful.




I was impressed at how fast three hours passed... it seemed as though we were only there for barely an hour.




All too soon, it was time to say goodbye... to our guide, and to our feathered friend.





We had lunch at an outdoor cafe style pizzaeria, where I met this beautiful woman... the one I wrote about in this post... the one who reminded me of Jesus.




The quaint little town/village was charming, with it's toilet paper taxi making it's way through the cobblestone streets... only in Honduras.




Toilet paper is a precious commodity here, the taxi needed its own guards... What, you haven't heard of the Toilet Paper Patrol?



The rest of the afternoon was spent browsing little shops around this beautiful town.




I bought a few things to bring home... coffee, leather bracelets, carved wooden boxes, a scarf, and a handful of postcards. The vanilla (banilla!) was a great buy as well. After a quick stop at a local coffee shop (even though I don't drink coffee), I made my way back to the hotel to get some rest before the night's Leadership Development Program student presentation.


All in all... another perfect day in this beautiful country.





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Paycheck to Paycheck

She works 8-4, five days a week, as a cleaning lady in a government office. Her name is Patty, and she lives here in Canada. The pay isn't great, but given the economic situation in her country, she's grateful to be employed. Living paycheck to paycheck is a way of life for so many people like her.

She works 8-4, five days a week, as a cleaning lady for a clinic in her village. Her name is Damary, and she lives in Honduras. The pay isn't great, but given the economic situation in her country, she is grateful to be employed. Living paycheck to paycheck is a way of life for so many people like her.



Two very similar people, both of whom I've met and spoken with, and yet the situation couldn't be much more different.

______________________

We were sitting together, stalling on our goodbyes, and squeezing in every last bit of conversation that we could. I wanted to know as much as possible before all that was left was three letters a year... three handwritten letters from the mother of our sponsored child, Bessy.


I asked Damary if there were any specific prayer requests for her personally, and after some thought, she asked me to pray about her pay. Even though I had been here in Honduras for nearly a week, my innocence and naivety still clung to me stubbornly in so many ways, yet little by little, it was disappearing. It wasn't disappearing fast enough to keep up with this conversation, but that was soon about to change.

The North American part of me imagined that she meant for us to pray that her pay would increase. Perhaps I needed to pray for a raise? Wouldn't you have assumed the same thing?


I was wrong.


So wrong.



You see, Damary is not concerned about the wages, her only concern is the time between pays. She lives paycheck to paycheck in a way I have never, ever heard of. She explained that she gets paid every 5 months. That's right. That was not a typo, it's 5 months, not 5 weeks. Her paycheck has to stretch for five months.


I had never heard of such a thing... I asked her to repeat... Five months... The words swam heavily in my mind, repeating themselves like an echo...



Five months....


Five months....


Five months....


Five months....?



Imagine going into work every single day, working hard, living paycheck to paycheck, but that period between paychecks is five long months? Five long months to budget for, and try to make ends meet? Five long months of trying to keep your morale up even though you feel as though you're working every day for nothing? That the pay you're looking forward to is so far in the distance, it seems like a mirage as you approach closer? I'm sure there are days when she struggles to see the light at the end of the tunnel... wouldn't most people?

Imagine living with the knowledge that if you were fired three months into it, you may never see that pay?


Imagine knowing the government is so corrupt and lawless that there is little you can do in fear of losing the only job you have?



How does Compassion help? Sponsorship provides relief by taking care of the needs of Bessy in holistic ways so that her mother can live paycheck to paycheck without her daughter's needs as an added concern.


There's more, though, much more.


Compassion provides HOPE.


It is said that the children are our future... but if we wait until the future to realize their worth, it will be too late. The time to act is now.

The youth of this generation will someday grow to run the country of Honduras... and Rwanda, Uganda, Kenya, El Salvador, Ecuador, Mexico, Ghana, Indonesia, India, and beyond... What if Bessy became the next President of Honduras? Do you honestly think she will stand by and allow the lawlessness that makes it possible for women like her mother to work in such unacceptable conditions?


The holistic approach of Compassion's work gives Bessy a chance to grow up and make a positive impact on the life of her family, her church, her village... her nation. The same impact that drove the gangs away from her village. Poverty's cycle CAN be broken in one single generation, through sponsorship.

That generation is in need right now.





For sponsorship from Canada, please click here, or email me at JD (at) beyondmeasure.me -- I have 3 child information packages for 3 beautiful children from Honduras waiting for a sponsor. Two girls and one boy. They are from the same Compassion project that Luis, the Leadership Development Program student grew up in. I also have a sweet boy from Columbia, and a precious girl from India.

For sponsorship from the U.S.A., here is a link from my friend Kristen, a U.S. advocate for Compassion.












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International Powerhouse of Prayer

When I set out to travel to Honduras with Compassion, my perception was that it would simply be focused on working with the kids and learning from the work Compassion does, in order to come back and work more effectively as an advocate.

Regardless of my perceptions, my hand was completely open to whatever experiences God had in mind for me. It was my intention to let Him take the lead.


I just never imagined that beyond the kids, He had something very specific in mind that kept repeating itself throughout the week.



The first project we visited, we met Wilson and his family. His mom is a single mom, raising two children alone. My heart went out to her. I learned on the first outing that it was very common for men in Honduras to leave their families because of the extreme conditions they live in, and the environment in which they've been raised. What will it mean for the next generation of families? Meeting Wilson's mom left an imprint on my heart. Although I can't relate to raising children on my own, I can certainly relate to being the sole spiritual head of the household.




The second project we visited, we met Isabel, whose husband is not a believer, and who is also left to be the spiritual head of the household. I was so grateful that her husband is working and supporting his family, his children, but I'll never forget the look on her face as she shared her deepest, most heartfelt prayer... for her husband to share her faith.

I recognize that look... it mirrors mine. That's when it hit home... I could really connect with these women, and it was only the beginning. God wasn't finished yet.



When we met Luis, the Leadership Development Student, we learned that he was raised by a single mom, and that it had really impacted him to grow up without a father figure in his life. The stories from earlier in the week repeated themselves once more... His mom also ended up as the spiritual head of the household. Through sponsorship and great leadership in his environment, Luis grew up to be a phenomenal young man of God who is now a leader in his family, his church, his community, and who lives a life by example... it was through Luis' testimony that God led my mom and I to look for a little boy to sponsor, so that we could encourage him to grow up against the grain in Honduras, against the cultural norm for men to have children and leave, against the norm for men to be absent as spiritual heads of their households.


Who would lead my husband to be the spiritual head of our household?


On Thursday, our last project visit day, God had another message waiting for me. My team was in charge of serving lunch to the children. As we finished, I wandered over to watch the boys play soccer. Somehow, even though my hearing is poor, I heard Kayla call out to me to come join her in setting up a beauty shop again, to paint the girls' nails. This was unusual in that we normally set out to follow along to where ever God lead us to go. I would soon find out that God was doing just that, through Kayla. I wasn't sure she was speaking to me, but she kept motioning for me to come over, so I wandered over and jumped in.

I met some great little girls, had fun painting their nails and butchering my Spanish a little in an attempt to get to know them. It was a ton of fun. One girl, Jennifer, spoke both English and Spanish, which was quite a surprise. She became our impromptu translator. She sat with Kayla first, and they struck up a conversation.




Then, one of the tutors, Gloria, came in to see what we were up to. She sat with Kayla, who painted her nails. While painting her nails, Kayla noticed Gloria's wedding ring, and via Jennifer, who translated for Kayla and Gloria, Kayla learned a bit about Gloria's story.



The more I heard of Gloria's story, the harder it became to focus on the kids who were sitting across from me, which made me feel conflicted until I heard Kayla tell Gloria that she had to sit with me and talk with me... Kayla knew about my husband, and told me I simply *had* to hear this woman's testimony.


So as Jennifer translated for us, I listened as Gloria's story unfolded. She had been married 33 years to her husband. The first half of her marriage had been heartbreaking and difficult. Her husband was a non believer for the first fifteen years of their marriage, as well as an alcoholic.

He refused to allow her to go to church. He threatened to lock her out of the house if she went... that didn't stop this woman. She'd return from church to find him in a drunken rage, and find herself locked out of their home for the remainder of the day. Week after week, undeterred, she went to church to worship the God she believed would deliver her from this difficult situation, the God who would restore her marriage to the man she loved.

That hit me hard... years ago, when my husband was unsupportive of my desire to attend church, I faced a choice between keeping the peace at home and living my life for God. More often than not, I chose peace, I chose to stay home. That has never hurt as intensely as it did sitting beside this woman, a real life Proverbs 31 Godly woman who let nothing stand between her and God, not even her husband's threats. I hung my head in shame. Oh, how much I stood to learn from her, and this was only the beginning.

There was more.

Her husband would come home from a night of drinking, and pass out cold in a drunken stupor... and rather than get angry and bitter, she would stand over him in prayer, believing that God would redeem the situation, heal her husband of alcoholism, restore her marriage, and renew his faith.

As she spoke, these words repeated themselves relentlessly in my mind... "This woman, stood over her drunken husband, and prayed over him while he was passed out cold."

I have prayed for my husband, but have I prayed for him with the passion she prayed for her husband? Have I prayed for my husband not only with that much passion, but with that much strength, that much faith... that much love?





Time and time again this past year, I have heard women tell me that my faith was strong, that my Christian life inspired them.... that they had learned from me. In that room, though, I was brought to my knees. I was not worthy to be in her presence, yet Lord had shown me mercy and brought me there. It was in that room that I realized all over again how far I have yet to go, how much I have yet to learn. I knew I was in the presence of someone God had sent to speak straight to my heart.


The visual of this woman standing over her husband in prayer was so powerful, so strong, that I almost missed the answer to those prayers that had captivated my heart.


In her 16th year of marriage, her husband stopped drinking completely and started coming to church with her.


The reverent silence in the room was palpable. God had answered her prayers, beyond measure.




She broke the silence first, and asked how long I had been married.


Fifteen years.


She paused, took a breath, grabbed my hand, squeezed it, and said "Next year. You will see... keep praying, pray over him as he sleeps... pray over him as he sleeps. Next year will be your year."


I couldn't help but believe her. I believe God spoke through this woman. There was no room for doubt.


My hope for my marriage has greatly increased in the last two years. I explained to Gloria the changes that had taken place in recent years, my prayers for God to change me into who He needed me to be, to completely break me and rebuild me for my marriage's sake. I had hope... but she increased my hope. She restored my hope, renewed it, rekindled it... set it on fire.


She became quite attached to me, and encouraged me to share more of my personal story, more of what had made my faith what it is today... so while the world blurred out of focus around around us, time stood still in that little classroom as I shared with her. She was overwhelmed with emotion by my testimony, but I told her that it was hers that had overwhelmed me, inspired me and taught me to press on, to increase my faith, to aim higher, work harder, hope for more.

She showed me all over again that no matter where we are in our faith, God sends us those who sharpen us, as iron sharpens iron. He knows just who to send for where we are in our journey. Sometimes, He has to lead us halfway across the world to cross our paths with that one person.

“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another” (Proverbs 27:17)

I saw her throughout the rest of my time at the project that day. She memorized my name, took some photos of me, of us, and throughout the afternoon at the project, everywhere I went, there she was. She even walked with me to the home our team was visiting that afternoon, and insisted on holding my hand. When it was time to say goodbye, she made me promise that when (not if) my husband accepted Christ, to please contact her and let her know her prayers had been answered. Until then, she would continue to stand in prayer.




I know without a doubt that in a little Honduran village, a beautiful woman with a heart for God knows my name, knows my story, and is standing in prayer for me as I sleep beside my husband tonight, believing that God WILL restore, renew, and redeem... believing that my prayers WILL be answered.


All week, we've heard about the children praying to receive letters from their sponsors, that those letters would be an answer to their prayers. There is one letter being prayed for right now, not by a child, but by an international powerhouse of prayer named Gloria, who believes that next year, she will receive a letter telling her that her prayers have been answered.

I have every intention on sending that letter to her.

“Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” Hebrews 10:24