Why?

Our beliefs have lead us to the strange place we find ourselves now. Many mornings I walk out the side door, watch a family patriarch pass by on horseback, look down to see baby chicks peeping, smile and wave to our little three-year-old neighbor, brush the growling puppy off my pant leg, smell the woodsmoke from traditional stoves, glare at the clouds waiting for the dry season to end, and I just sit down.

I sit there and I think the ancient question. Why? Why am I here? I have an answer.

I have passed long months, years actually, without being able to answer that question. I have sat unfilled in the office chair, making decent money, living comfortably, doing okay work, getting into the car I wanted so badly, driving home to my beautiful, loving wife, opening my Bible in the morning and evening and serving people around me to some degree. I had faith. I had work. I had my money, family, car, even passions. But it still wasn't enough. You see, you can understand something, you can even react to it with some degree of passion, but there is no substitute for giving it all up.

In Christianity, there is the concept of the "law that gives freedom." For me, many other believers, and nearly all non-Christians, this idea often rings as ridiculous. But over time, I am beginning to understand that only by our willingly and freely relinquishing control of our lives to a capable and all-encompassing goodness can we ever truly be free. Because we're all slaves, as much as we, especially us raised under the red, white, and blue, fail to acknowledge it. Our desires, our confusion, our mixed feelings and even our dreams quietly slip in and capture us. And before we can even cry out, we're done. Life has passed by and we didn't even resist. We peacefully followed the path that our silent chain led us down.

I have passed sleepless nights, hanging on my chain over the pit of sweet existential doubt. Our proximity to the pit brings us clarity; the closer we come to the edge, the clearer things become. As we doubt our being and question our deepest assumptions, two possible answers emerge from the darkness, and a choice must be made. We are confronted with the only two options: I exist for a reason or I exist for nothing. Our choice is then in our reaction.

Should we decide that our lives have no meaning, we must respond accordingly. Should we truly accept that we have no significance, that we have not been created for a purpose, but have instead risen from nothing for nothing, then our only logical response is hedonism. Should existence have no purpose, why should we treat it as if it does--for a meaningless future? However, we exist in a culture full of moral expectations and principles that we insist on forcing onto others. "No!" our culture cries out, "I believe each person has the right to choose what is right for him or her." But do we really? Or is genocide always wrong and there is a moral responsibility to oppose it? If we do believe that, then why? If our understanding is that there is no absolute overriding principle, why do continue to treat humans as if they have innate value? Why should we respond to humanitarian crises? We lie to ourselves when we live as if people have value when inside we know that they do not.

However, should we, in our trip to the pit, admit to ourselves, no, accept that we do have meaning, that we exist with purpose, then we must respond to this truth. Whatever this truth is, whatever this meaning may be, we have an obligation to ourselves, as seekers of truth, to do everything in our power to respond to its principle and purpose, and no amount of half-hearted partial commitment will do.

Should any part of this discourse interest you, please read The Reason for God by Tim Keller. He takes a much more intelligent, comprehensive look at some of the logic and philosophy that surrounds Christianity and discussed here briefly.

Meat

 

 

As you can imagine, without a refrigerator, eating meat turns out to be a bit of a rare activity. However, just because we don't have electricity doesn't mean that animal flesh is non-existent. In fact, we're surrounded by it, the only little job is to catch it and get the feathers, fur, feet, scales, etc off of it. Although at times I've considered grabbing the chicken pecking at my feet or the insomniac rooster, the truth is that we've decided it is probably best to not steal hungry children's only protein source. Noble, I know.

So, up until now, our meat quotient has been met in various ways. The one time that we bought old cow rubber out of the back of the rusty pickup truck that serves as the Sunday meat wagon convinced me and my aching jaw that this was not a suitable avenue. Four hours sitting in a leaky boat with a hook, line and  suffering worm and only a half pound of minnows to show for it was also a non-starter. The truth of the matter is, we eat meat when we go down the hill, when our neighbors slaughter something, or when we catch or are given a wild animal.

On that last point, we've eaten two or three kinds of doves, tepisquintle (lowland paca), chachalaca (a big bird), and way more than our fair share of armadillos. Everyone else also includes iguana, rabbit, guatusas, possum, boas, and maybe the occasional anteater on the menu. We'll probably try them eventually, we just have missed the opportunities up until now. Armadillos would almost be a reliable food source if it didn't require traipsing around rainy tropical mountainsides at night with a flashlight, stupid smelly dogs, and an hour's work to convince them they don't need to spend the night in their holes. It turns out that they are even less interested in getting out of their shells. Thankfully the excitement and newness of showing up on the gringos porch with a live armored possum has also calmed down.

So, all that leads to where we are today. With our own little two-story meat factory.

The Steinbeck Memorial Petting zoo. Everyone dies in the end.

It has been the plan to raise chickens for some time, but the garden prevented us from just free-ranging them. In addition, we've had a few wild rabbits for a while now and thought it might be nice to eat their babies some day. So, we built this little cage and fenced area for them to live in relative safety. The chicken was actually given to us some time ago as a little one from an ancient townsperson, but it was happier with the neighbor. Arjelia benefited from the chicken's eggs until the moment that she brought over a plastic bowl full of ten tiny pollitos and the mama gallina under her arm as we finished the coop.

People seemed a little concerned at first. Apparently, chickens don't like to be closed in. In fact, if you just leave them in a small space they will die! And, and if you don't give them more shade, they will burn to death! And, if you give them just chicken food, they won't make it!  In addition, they had too much water. Sounding a little bit like the "dogs and cats just eat corn" advice, I took their help with a healthy dose of skepticism.
 
But as it turns out, contrary to popular predictions, the chickens are just fine. More than fine in fact. A week after getting them, somebody came by.
Visitor: "Who gave you more chicks?"
Gringo: "No one."
Visitor: "Those aren't the chickens you had."
Gringo: "Yes they are, why?"
Visitor: "They can't be; they're too big."

So, the chores are growing as well as the chickens. Not only do we need to weed and water the garden, feed and water the cat and dog, but now let the chickens out, check the water, give them food, come back at night and shut them back up in the coop and feed and water the bunnies (maybe rabbits is a better term if we're going to eat them). In additions our little serving-size companions generate a substantial amount of brown bi-product that is certainly helping the garden.

The rabbits have been pretty low-maintenance. Water, high protein green stuff, vegetable biproduct, a little space, and they grow like crazy. A guy name Luis walked past while I was working in the garden sometime in early March and said "Do you like rabbits?" I hesitantly replied yes, and was immediately gifted with three tiny rabbits. Since then, they have easily tripled in size if not more. They seem very content. They're in the top story of the meat palace and have a pretty good view. Before they moved in, they were in a hastily constructed cage hanging from a rope. Maybe they miss the boat-in-a-storm experience they had before, I hadn't even thought to ask. And, I don't know if they're male or female, if anyone is a rabbit genitalia expert, feel free to chime in. I've tried a couple of times to flip them over and look for informative shapes and such. They don't appreciate it and there doesn't seem to be a whole lot to see. So, who knows. I'm tired of checking and little ashamed of bothering them so.

But, all in all, it's worth all the goofiness, and is generating a lot of positive conversations. A lot of the food for the rabbits and chickens come from garden leftover and other beneficial species that we planted. We talk about the value of water that improves personal and animal health and allows for the garden to be a possibility. All of this is done in a way that gives them confidence and hopefully inspires them to replicate the efforts in their home.

Special thanks to Bob and Kim Westfall for their donation making this project possible.

A frequently asked question

We get the question from time to time: "what does a typical week or typical day look like?"  Or, "what do you guys do?"  So we thought we would try to answer.  Obviously it's hard to answer because of how "routines" and "normal" don't really exist for us.  We never know what a day will bring!  The bottom line every day goal is to be most effective for the Lord.

A Typcial Week:  We try to spend 5 days a week in our community and our main goals there are two fold.  Number one: Supporting the local pastor, church, and community leaders in their development.  We are not leaders in the community, we only support and encourage the locals.
Number two: Creating and living in a demonstration area.  Modeling sustainable technologies such as rain water harvesting, gardening, small animal production, hygine, security, education, etc.  Not just material modeling, but as well in our lifestyle (spiritually, socially, physically, and emotionally).  We're not perfect and never will be, but as all Christians we all need to be at all times ambassadors of Christ.  We attempt to model positive thinking, conflict resolution, manners, etc.
The other two days of the week we volunteer with the ministry Heart to Honduras specifially in their Community Development department with their Coordinator Fredy Martinez.  We spend one day in the office organizing, planning, reviewing solicitations from communities/churches.  The other day we spend in the field working side by side with community pastors and leaders in their own development. Everything we do in our village, but just with less frequency.

A Typical Day:  We wake up at 5:30/6am, have coffee and a bread/cracker (very cultural for early morning here) while we have our personal devotions.  Remember that the village doesn't have running water, electricity, or public transportation, so all that implies (you can imagine) changes to our day.  From there Kaleb hits the garden (weeding, plating, watering, etc.) and Stacey hits the pila to wash clothes by hand.  Making 3 meals a day also takes much more time for Stacey.  Without your typical refrigerator, microwave, oven, etc. we eat a lot of what the locals eat plus what we harvest from the garden.  The 5 most eaten foods in our village are: rice, beans, plantains, yucca (cassava), and corn tortillas.  If we are caught up on projects around the house (currently it's a rabbit/chicken cage) we have time to visit families and help out with community projects like the pilas, rain water catchment, gardens, etc.  When we're not out in the community we are supporting, teaching, and training locals.  We also have Sunday School and Youth Group to plan and execute with local leaders.  We wrap up our day around 8pm and are usually asleep before 9:30pm.

Hope that helps catch a glimpse, it's about as simple as we can write it out.

Rusty Movements

Something is happening at the church in Las Lomitas. Something strange. Something great. We have a pastor who has been very much a preacher of obedience, of wrath, of a great and terrible God. But over these past three or four weeks, a different flavor has begun. In our personal talks with Pastor Erick, we’ve begun to talk about the person of Christ. Who was he? How did he behave? What were his wishes for his disciples? How did he propose that the church would change the world? Our conversations have taken a shift towards the fatherless, the widow, the abandoned. During the services, the name of Jesus is now being mentioned as a thing of hope, not a brick to beat over someone’s sinful obstinate head.

And (Gasp!), it seems that the church is beginning to move itself. The joints seem a little creaky, and the pastor a little uncomfortable, but from within, locomotion is beginning. During this past week, several signs of hope are bubbling up. The group of young men is starting to realize that they could actually  make a difference here. It’s a small start, but there’s already a new bench next to the soccer field, standing as a proud monument to the power of change. In addition, this same group of young men put forward $25 to match the church’s $25 to help a local widow. We have an elderly lady who is very sick and whose children are very poor. Word trickled down through the grapevine that her bed was literally rotted through, and that she is entering her last days. The church took action and last night, we had a service in her house, where we turned over her new mattress, sheets, blankets, and pillow. I had to hold back the tears as Erick passionately urged his congregation to not forget the community’s widows. To not wait until they were gone and then put something pretty on their grave. We must take care of them while they are still with us.

Then (Gasp again!), when little Noe’s need for eye surgery came up. Erick invited Noe’s Catholic mother to church to explain his needs. Then, the people responded by providing $50 to help offset the cost of the surgery. This is a culture that doesn’t typically allow for this kind of interactions between protestant and Catholics; this gesture rips apart many preconceived notions that hold down many church bodies.

Then today (nearly fainting), Erick and I went down to another widow’s home today and split firewood for a couple of hours while she wasn’t home. This particular widow has a delightful story attached to her. She goes by Doña Berta and is old, toothless, and tiny, but so full of spunk that rowdy puppies seem listless around her. Her image isn’t dampened by the bandana she constantly has tied around her head. Every other word out of her mouth is “Dang this” or “Heck that.” Enough said, she’s a fireball.

When a medical team was here from Apex, I had the pleasure of translating for her as the doc asked her for her complaints. Her reply (gesturing grandly).

“Well, you see, I have this air that starts here. RIGHT HERE in my legs. Then I feel it rise up into my stomach where it rumbles around. It makes all kinds of godawful noise. But, then, it doesn’t stop there. It keeps RIDING up, HIGHER and HIGHER! Eventually, it gets into my dang head, then comes hissing out my ears. Puchika. That’s when I know it was the air, when I hear it sliding out my head through my ears. What’s causing that Señor Doctor?”

As deadpan as possible, I translated her complaint. The doc and I looked at each other for a moment, neither of us trusting our mouths should we open them. Then, with all the professional constraint of a good practitioner, he replied. “I really don’t know.”

All of the craziness aside, my heart jumped in my chest as we were discussing what she would think when she arrived home to see all of the wood prepared. Erick said, “I wonder what she’ll think when she gets back? She’ll ask her daughter who was here.” And the answer? “Jesus.”

These are the changes that we have prayed for, cried for, and gently encouraged for more than a year now. Our dream, our vision, is to come alongside the local church and help it recognize its potential as an agent for social change. That true hope would be shared with the world. A hope that doesn’t stop at a prayer of salvation, but encompasses someone’s whole being. Let us assure ourselves that we are not simply walking coffins for a fake, dead Jesus. Our faith was never meant to be locked up and used as a weapon against those with whom we disagree, but as a viral hope: something that starts in the visible and infects the soul, overriding our cynicism and changing history.

 Written early February.

We’re Alive!

 It’s been some time until we’ve had access to internet, so we’ve been unable to update. We’ve had a couple of teams come through Las Lomitas since we last updated. One, a group of three, from Apex, was working on a rainwater collection cistern for the church. The 1000 gallons of water from this catchment system will be used to supplement the community during shortages in the inconsistent water supply in town. The hope is that one day we’ll have the opportunity to purify this water and use it as a source of safe water for the community until the day that a purified water system can be installed. These guys worked hard through the week and along with some guys from town, finished the vast majority of the project. Chessi, Timoteo, and Sheff will be remembered for some time in these parts, not least of all by Mula. Thanks for your hard work guys. We’ll get pictures up here soon once we’re finished.

 A second group from Cherry Hills community church, came through and worked on pilas in the community, in addition to continuing work on the cistern, and doing some activities with the kids. Thank you Cherry Hills for your continuing support of Las Lomitas. Sorry about the unseasonable rain, so much for the dry season.

On a somewhat sadder note, we had to rather abruptly say goodbye to our faithful dog, Echo. We were just getting ready for dinner with the Apex guys when he started to yelp outside. We ran outside to check on him just as he started into a seizure. However, within 30 seconds, it was all over. Since he had been tied up close to the house for a couple of days, we thought it might be prudent to check for dangerous animals that may have bitten him. Sure enough, on the inside of his box was a small scorpion with red claws. It seems a little difficult to believe that such a small thing could kill a dog as big and strong as Echo so quickly, but it appears the most likely scenario. I guess the little one’s really are the more dangerous.  It certainly gives me one more reason to hate them. 

 

Adios Echo.

Echo died on Sat. 3/16.  Since he was not just a great dog and faithful friend to us, but our security system and protection, even though it was too soon, Kaleb surprised Stacey with a new puppy on Sat. 3/23.  We have finally named her “Canela” (Cinnamon) after days of trying to decide on a name.

 

Hola Canela

We’ve also acquired a couple more animals, but we’ll wait until we have more time in order to introduce them.  There’s much more going on, and we’ll be updating as we get the chance. Thanks so much for your support.

Electricity in Las Lomitas

 Las Lomitas is full of fighters. People that won’t give up, even though they understand the direness of their situation. One year ago, when we began talking about an electricity project here, we met with some serious doubt. But, thanks to the president of the patronato (town council), Pablo, we’re at a place today that we never would have dreamed last year. Faithfully meeting with the mayor and pressing forward, we are so very close to beginning the construction of the electricity project here in Las Lomitas.

The mayor has signed a written agreement that he will involve himself in this project, providing wires, transformers, etc. The national electrical organization, the ENEE, has provided the engineering plans and the approval for connection to the national grid upon completion of the project.  All necessary land easements have been signed. The community has fought, prayed, and waited for this day to come, and they are now involved as much as possible. To buy posts, the community has now provided nearly $1700, an enormous sum for a community so poor. They have also agreed to provide all unqualified labor for the project. Digging post holes and dragging cables will be work for many men in the near future. Here’s where you come in.

Electricity changes lives. It surely will bring some problems, but the opportunities it provides are incomparable. Refrigeration extends food and medicine storage. Outlets allow for phones to be charged and appliances to be used. Public lighting provides a level of safety that these people need so desperately. Indoor lighting extends the evening. Small businesses can begin. Imagine the difference in the life of a woman who now scrubs laundry by hand for three hours a day. Surely these changes will not come overnight, but they will now be possible with electricity, even unreliable Honduran electricity.

$1700 is a lot of money, but still nearly $12,000 short of what is needed to buy posts. Several generous donors have already provided the much of the money for the post purchase, but all funds are helpful. Any funds provided above this amount can be used to help continue the project into the second phase of expansion. This is an incredible chance to come alongside those in need and make a real difference in their lives. We have a large file full of documents detailing this project should they be desired by anyone, and we would be so very happy to send them.

Those interested can donate online by visiting www.hth.org and using the “Donate” page. You can contribute using either PayPal or with credit card using the “Churchwerks” option. In addition, you can send a check made out to Heart to Honduras. With any of these donations, please designate the funds to “Las Lomitas Electricity.” Thank you so much to those of you that have already donated and to those of you that I know will respond to this need. Stay up to date on the blog. Community Development efforts are ramping up and the need for funding will increase as projects come in. We'll keep you informed as the needs develop.

World-Wind trip

21 days, 12 different beds, and too many meetings to count later we head home to Honduras.  We've been in the States for a world-wind tour with Pastor Fredy Martinez.  We spent time in Bidwell & Dayton Ohio, Pittsburgh & York, PA, Clearwater & Ft. Lauderdale Florida.  Thank you to each of you that hosted us, fed us, and heard Fredy's story and our current work as a team in Community Development.

Hatred

In all of God's green world, there are few creatures that bother me. I grew up catching and playing with snakes, and, although walking into a spider's web is not my favorite thing, I casually brush off the offending arachnid without any thought (assuming it's smaller than a Civic). Mosquitos can make you a little nuts, but I can put up with them until I'm sucked half dry. However, in Honduras lives a creature that I genuinely hate. A creature that preys on your vulnerabilities and lives in your nightmares (and it's not a politician). This delightful creature is the scorpion, or by its more hideous, Spanish name, alacran.

Our first Honduran scorpion was a "Wow, that's wild!" moment. It was a novelty, neat to see, but easily forgettable. We found them from time to time while we were building the house, but it was never any real cause for concern. We were outside. My animosity began to build once we had lived there for a while. You see, here's the thing. Scorpions are different from any other foul creature in that they delight in surprising you. They wait for the ideal moment, find the perfect spot, then reveal themselves. How do I know this? Because most assuredly, I find them when I want to see them least.

Dropping your pants to change clothes? Haha sucker! Here I am in your pants!
Naked and in the shower? Perfect, I'll be waiting here in your towel.
Need silverware, contentedly cooking in the afternoon? Grab the spoon, I'll come along for the ride.

Oh, but my favorite place to find them is in my bedroom. As if sleeping in Honduras is not difficult enough, scorpions like to wait until you're half-naked and comfortable to pop out and just chill on the walls of the bedroom. We've killed at least a half dozen in our room that just came by to visit. But the vileness of these individuals pales in comparison to the cruelty of the ones that actually invade your bed.

Imagine this, you're asleep in bed, having managed to forget about all the animals that are probably transversing the walls, trying to give you images for the night's coming nightmares. You've also ignored the roosters with sleep issues, random screams, minor hurricaine, bat that insists on screeching only as it flies past your window, dogs killing each other, and all other sounds that suggest a break-in and accompanying violent death. So, you're laying there, comfortable, when you pop awake, something ran across your back, something big enough to wake you up. You mumble to your wife, "Something's in the bed." Just as she screams jumping out of the bed holding her throbbing hand. Long story short, the scorpion ends up dead in the toilet.

Another night, I had just fallen asleep when Stacey jumps out of the bed. I also awaken on my feet (your reflexes for leaving your bed rapidly while unconscious improve dramatically after a year of sleeping under these conditions). She tells me "Something fell on me." I assured her that it was probably a rabid moth bouncing off the walls or something. "No," she says assuredly, "something like a gecko." Well crap, that rules out tiny harmless insects. Sure enough, after a vigorous round of "Shake the sheets til they rip apart" the offending scorpion pops out and scutters around the room with out 1 lb. kitten hot on it's tail. Saving a kitten's life and destroying hell monsters are all in a good night's rest for us now apparently.

Not only are these things so evil because of their aptness for inflicting poorly timed heart attacks. It's also because of how they're put together. It's like Satan got into his spare parts drawer and said, "I'd like to make something too. Ah yes, lobster claws, eight legs like a spider, a jillion shiny eyes. Yes, that's shaping up nicely, what's missing? Ah yes, a snake-like tail topped off with a hornet's stinger. Mhmm. Oh, and let's make it as black as death and big enough that you can see it from a helicopter (with smaller, scarier red-clawed models for those hard to reach places)."

But, they have been good for our marriage. We've been bonded together by a mutual hate for these things. We even have a little scorpion routine now built into our day.

1. Take the towels off the walls gingerly from one side, and check thoroughly before hygiene events.
2. Check under both pillows (it really shows your spouse you care).
3. Examine top of sheets thoroughly.
4. Examine under sheets all around the bed with caution.
5. In the case of a scorpion event, leave the bedroom, hug each other (grateful for another day together), take some Benadryl, and pray for blissful medicated sleep to carry you away from all this.

A visitor

The next three weeks we feel very privileged to travel with our dear friend and co-worker Fredy Martinez.  He is Heart to Honduras's Community Development Coordinator and so much more.  If it we not for Fredy we are not sure we would still be in Honduras, he's one of the best people we've ever met.  We've known him and spent A LOT of time with the past year and 1/2 that we've been in Honduras.  We asked him to share with all of you a bit of his story.  

Fredy’s Story:

My name is Fredy Martinez my wife is Alexandra.  We have two children, Daniel (15) and Raquel (13).  We are a missionary family, I met my wife working in missions and my kids were born into that life.  Even though we now live in Honduras (my birth country), we are still missionaries because we believe as Christians we are foreigners here on earth our residence is in heaven.

Fredy with his wife and children.

My Testimony:

I was born in Honduras. At age 19, after completing my 2 year military service, I decided to go to Europe to work.  I was very young and had tons of plans of my own, I was not interested in God.  After being in Switzerland for 2 months, God began to show himself to me through some Christians that I had met.  They were visiting someone, and I happened to be at the same house. They invited us to church.  The most impactful thing that touched my life in this church was something I had never felt in my life and that was to feel the love of God in this group.  To realize they had never met me but they still showed me a great love and respect.  They invited me to their houses and I was very surprised wondering, why would these people love me so much?  But I slowly began understanding that this was God’s love. 

The call:

After a little while, I began to feel a called to missions and started volunteering in a Spanish ministry (from Spain) in Switzerland that worked with alcoholics and drug addicts.  From there I was invited to go to Spain to prepare myself in missions, so I went and spent 6 months preparing myself.  From there I spent more time in Switzerland and later Central America.  I started in Guatemala working a lot in orphanages, later in El Salvador with gangs, drug addicts, and alcoholics it’s also where I met my wife and my son was born. Then in Belize with more adults, fund raising, public relations, and it’s where my daughter was born. Through all of this my desire became stronger to serve in my country. After 10 years in missions I asked God for permission to come back to my country, start a church, and work with a great need, the children.

Fredy sledding in the Alps while he was a missionary in Switzerland.

Fredy and his young bride working with teenagers in Guatemala.

Pastoring Today:

We now pastor in an “Open Arms” church in a town called “La Concepcion;” we founded this church 10 years ago we also have a children’s program in association with Compassion International.  As a church we’re involved in various aspects of the community, applying our church motto which is “We are a church to serve the community.”  Behind the church we have a large garden and have recently started with a hydroponics garden.  We have sports programs for the youth, a leadership school where we are training leaders, house churches, and have planted two daughter churches (Las Lomitas and Yojoa).  In these daughter churches we want to replicate programs like what we have in our church.  Recently we have started a shop where kids can learn carpentry and make souvenirs to sell to the visitor as a micro business.  The newest thing is a “School for Spouses” that we started this year.

Compassion International kids in Fredy's church.

My role with Heart to Honduras:

We are also committed to the cause of Community Development, which is a department of Heart to Honduras in which I work in a team with missionaries Kaleb and Stacey.  We believe that this department is a tool of God to churches and pastors to transform and develop communities.  We work alongside of not only the church but community leaders and local government like mayors.  Our vision as Community Developent is to empower the most poor villages and carry them to a better quality of life.  We want to continue the desire that was in the heart of Heart to Honduras’s founder, Charlie Smith, which is to empower the most poor villages and their pastors and carry them to a better quality of life is all aspects in a holistic way to reach spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and material needs.  We want to teach all of our pastors to love people not just like souls but also like people.  We know that it’s a big challenge, but we believe that through this unity, love, and faith we have in our team we are going to find the impossible, possible.  Each one of you is a strong instrument in the hands of God so that in Honduras all of the impossible could be possible.  For example a remote community in Honduras that has been ignored by the government, without dreams, but a group of North American brothers came to lift up this community.  To get then out of anonymity bring them into the light and now it’s a community with purified running water, school, better road conditions, greater faith, more self-esteem, and they are now dreaming for a better community.

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If you'd like to hear more Fredy will be sharing in Bidwell, Dayton, and York before headed to a conference in FL where we are speaking as a community development team.