When I was his age, some 31 years ago, $5 went a lot further. Today, it barely covers the cost of a 6-piece chicken nugget Happy Meal at McDonalds. And I mean just barely! But $5 is hardly insignificant…
Last Wednesday evening, NMCCH had its annual end of the school year awards ceremony. I was proud of all the home kids, but I was especially Continue Reading…
An image from December 8, 2010 is permanently etched in my memory. Should I develop the debilitating disease known as Alzheimer’s, I’m convinced this memory will be stronger than the destructive nature of Alzheimer’s could ever be.
I stepped out of the bed of a pick up truck driven by Bobby Moore, Executive Director of Bread for a Hungry World, onto the plastic littered ground of The Dump, outside of Tegucigalpa, Honduras. Even through my snake boots, I was hit. Yep. My kevlar boots couldn’t stop its bite. I was hit…
by…
the…
realization…
that…
this…
was…
real.
I’d heard stories and seen YouTube videos, but to experience it once and for all was almost more than I could bear.
I wept. And I wasn’t alone.
The stench said it all. I’d been to landfills many times in the states but this wasn’t just a landfill. This was a buffet for some and home for others.
Moreover, the rumor was true. I saw her. The pregnant woman who would more than likely go into labor there unless someone did something.
That afternoon we would feed close to 1000 Hondurans, many of whom would descend from the hill upon which The Dump sat, buzzards circling and all, a feat made possible by people not content to sit idly by. People fasted, gave up ice cream for a month, and found many other ways to save so as to contribute on Dump Day.
Saying we don’t know how good we have it here in the US is a gross understatement. Yet, I need only to look in my own back yard to witness things that I would never imagine. So you can imagine what one would see in a third world country like Honduras.
I am hardly ever without words, but there were things I discovered over the course of four days in Honduras that leave me speechless. Here are a few significant ones.
I am speechless at the kind of skills it takes to land a 737 on the Toncontin Intercontinental runway in a high wind situation. That lady had serious skills.
I am speechless by how good the average 8 year-old Honduran boy is at soccer.
I am speechless at witnessing an armed guard carrying a sawed-off shotgun in a Burger King or a Frito-Lay truck guard with a sawed-off shotgun.
I am speechless at how people drive in Honduras. I’ve never seen anything like it, anywhere.
I am speechless at the thought of saturating a ski mask with paint or glue and wearing it constantly to temper hunger pains.
I am speechless by the smiles of resilient children who live in a dump, have little to nothing to eat on days other than Wednesdays, and yet find it within themselves to smile a lot.
I am speechless at the power of touch, despite dirt and stench. And I’m talking about the power of touch that I felt from them, not the other way around.
I am speechless by selfless agape that makes people vulnerable. AGAPE brings things out in people that they themselves might not have even realized was in them. I saw people surrender to others and that was Jesus shining through.
Thank you, Honduras, for opening my eyes and leaving me speechless. I needed it.
Tomorrow morning I’ll board a plane with my friend, Trey Morgan, along with a few others, to fly to Tegucigalpa, Honduras to take part in The Jesus Banquet, along with a number of other projects. Marc Tindall is doing amazing work in Honduras and we are delighted to help in whatever way we can.
Please remember this group in your prayers. Also, please remember the families they leave behind.
Can’t wait to write about the experience in the weeks to come.
I love bread. I don’t need it in vast quantities, but I love it nonetheless. Romano’s Macaroni Grill tends to be my favorite. I’m glad there’s not one around here. The temptation would be too great.
I get why Jesus was use bread as such a powerful analogy, and it has nothing to do with our obsession for carbohydrates, either. It’s much deeper than that. Bread was a staple then. In the Jewish culture, it was packed with significance as well.
When Jesus fed multitudes, he fed them bread. On the night of his betrayal, he took elements of the Passover, one of which was bread, and turned it into a living symbol of communion and fellowship with himself. He even referred to himself as “the bread of life” and “bread from heaven” (John 6).
So you’ve got to love it when someone can combine the two: bread for sustenance and the bread of life. That’s why I love Bread for a Hungry World. Bobby Moore is offering both, and I am so proud to be a small part of what he is doing. If you are looking for a way to help make a difference in the lives of the impoverished of this world, consider working through this group.