People in Honduras sing to God the way most of us only dare to do in our showers. They sing off key and off rhythm at the top of their lungs with unbridled undeniable passion. Somehow, what should sound like chaos, instead grips our hearts in a way that both exposes our own pride and leaves us longing to cry out to our Savior in the same way.
Our Sunday morning service was completely in Spanish and facilitated by a student from the Baxter Institute (a university dedicated to helping students become preachers). Even though the spoken language wasn't understood by many of us we all came away knowing what was said. The lesson centered on being the light of the world. Cisco followed it up with a passionate plea calling us all to reach out to our friends who are falling away.
We hugged or shook hands with our brothers and sisters and loaded up on the bus to head out to the valley of the angels.
Beaded bracelets, clay pots, coconuts carved out and painted to look like monkeys, jewelry, and woven hammocks line the walls of every tiny shop in the the valley of angels. Each doorway hosts a woman inviting passers by to enter in and browse the goods inside. People are everywhere, many of them from the US. Anna Evan's eyes opened wide when she walked into a shop as a group from her church in Tampa were walking out. She was happily reunited with friends she hadn't seen in seven years. The Christian world truly isn't so big.
Rested and ready we returned to the mission house eager to get back to work the next day.
It is a small world I agree. Glad the worship experience in Honduras did NOT disappoint.
ReplyDeleteEnjoying the blog. Glad Anna got to see some of her old friends. I know that was a special treat for her.
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