We travel home today.  Pastor Carlos meets us at the hotel to say goodbye.  It is a long winding road to Tegucigalpa, the nation’s capital, to the country’s only commercial airport. We expect it to take 3 or 4 hours.  We leave early.  Along the winding mountain roads, two suitcases spill out of the back of the pickup.  Thankfully no one is hurt.  Brother Ritchie drives the lead rental vehicle (one of two rentals we had) to our destination. Brother Ritchie wants to check on his broken Kia which was supposed to have been repaired in time for him to drive back home, after returning the missions team’s rental vehicles (after all, it would be a long walk back to the property way back in Choluteca).  The trip to the repair shop takes longer than expected.  We make it to the airport in a rush.  The Hertz representative inspects the vehicles and finds minor damage on each.  We dispute it.  Rental agents have a reputation for extracting as much money from Americans as they can.  They concede the damage on the truck is old, but we are forced to accept the damage on the van.  Time is ticking…
 
We are told at the airport we are boarding already.  We rush through security. The boarding pass machine flashes that we are too late to board the plane.  The Delta agent at the counter, however, hurries us to our plane, giving us some hope that we might make it.  We have to pay an exit tax at a separate counter of $38 to leave.  This takes longer.  We are told the plane is boarding.  We race upstairs.  I move the fastest to try to keep the plane from leaving without the group…if I can.  As I pass through security, an announcement over the PA system rings through out the entire airport: “Zackary Dressner.  Please remain where you are and identify yourself.”  My stomach drops.  Ut oh.  That’s me.  You might think I am making this up.  I wish I was joking.  I pass through the remaining security check point, acting cool, while considering my next step.  I do make 2 attempts at identifying myself, but the security people, didn’t understand the anouncement that was made in English and they don’t understand me, either.  Again, I hear, “Zackary Dressner.  Please remain where you are and identify yourself.” The rest of the group trickles up to my location.  I learn that a football in my baggage set off an alarm.  Pastor Krohn who had remained below had to open my bag, deflate the ball, and sign off on it.  I guess partially inflated footballs aren’t allowed on planes.  I didn’t make the Honduras most wanted list after all! Phew. I ask the man at the Delta boarding reception desk to get on the plane.  Thankfully, it was NOT boarding yet.  We had been misinformed.  Within 10 minutes, they begin boarding us. I am thankful to be on the plane home.  A transfer, and another flight, and, finally, home!  The group is safe.  The adventure ends.  I miss the children.  I miss Pastor Carlos. But it is good to be home.  We are safe.  I am exhausted.

Our group is very attached to the kids.  We make a point to spend the day at the property.  We decide to do something extra special for the children before we leave.  The children almost never go out to eat.  It is so expensive, a luxury for sure.  The missions team puts our money together and decides to take the children to a local favorite restaurant, a Chinese place in town.  The children are excited.  They all dress up.  It is such a beautiful blessing to see how blessed they all are by our generosity.  It is amazing what a few dollars and a little bit of time can do to brighten the lives of children.  Even the little ones are able to come.  The food is good, but the real joy is seeing how happy the children are. 

We linger at the restaurant, but have to return to the property.  We have to say goodbye.  It is difficult. The young ladies in our group are especially attached.  Some of the Honduran children don’t stop crying.  Many of the children bring us gifts to take back to our families in America.  I’ve grown attached to Elmer (who reminds me of my own Paul back home) and Antonio.  While on this trip, I taught Elmer, age 6, I think (he says a different age each time I ask him!), to throw a football.  Antonio is 13, as tall as I am, with a desire to preach.  I ask Antonio why he wants to be a pastor.  He says, in fairly good English, “I want to work for God.”  It is hard.  I will not forget my time in Honduras.  I never want to forget the children there.

~AM

We want to hand out the Tracts today.  We head out early to the center of town where there are a large number of people.  It takes us only a short while to pass out a thousand or more tracts.  Taxi drivers stop to accept them out of their windows.  People on motorcycles turn around.  Nothing is free in the city, except today.  The Gospel is free to all who accept it! 

It is hot. Always so hot.  I miss my family.  I miss my church.

~PM

The children at the property have so few chances to escape their routine.  Life at the home is very routine.  It is better than what they would have on the streets, and the Ritchie’s do all they can, but sometimes it isn’t much.  Chris and I conspire to bring the children to the beach.  A rare treat for them.  Pastor Carlos agrees to guide us.  I enjoy riding with him and another pastor, Mark Antonio.  They ask me questions about the ministry.  I’m blessed to try to help.  His problems seem familiar. People are people wherever you go.

We make it to the water in time to see the sunset.  It is beautiful, mountains from Nicarauga and El Salvador rise on eiter side of the gulf.  Volcanoes are in plain sight.  Lava plumes float ashore. Andrea, our school’s science teacher, collects the lava rocks and gives me a few for my children as souvenirs.  She tells me to dip them in bleach to sterilize them before my kids handle them, and she explains that these rocks float.  Andrea is a blessing, always. My children will love to play with them.  The water is warm.  I am told the Japanese Tsunami killed 15 at this spot just a short month earlier.  Today, it is calm, pristine, perfect. 

The children laugh and play in the water like I’ve never seen them.

I preached at Carlos’ Church at La Cruz.  Carlos has been my interpreter.  He is the pastor of the Baptist Church of La Cruz.  He is an amazing man with a great church!  I really feel more comfortable now.  God blesses in the main service, and Pastor Krohn preaches to the teenagers. Between services we stop at the orphanage to eat.  The kids are amazing.  I wish I could pack each one up and take him home.  Lisa Ritchie is very hospitable–she is always working, making meals, cleaning, teaching.  She is a Proverbs 31 woman for sure.

At night we go to a mountain church, when I say mountain, I mean up a million miles in the dark mountain church.  They have no lights their except for what a single solar panel can power and what the truck gives off.  We haul hundreds of tract bags with the gospel and small gifts for the mountain people. We also carry a projector and projector screen on the back of the truck. The people gather for preaching and to watch the movie.  After I preach, they play the movie, The Appointment.  Afterwards I preach again–this time, just a gospel invitation.  As I take my place again in front of the dimly lit church, while the movie was playing many more mountain people have made their way to the simple mud brick building.  Many are looking through windows, many more are crowding the door trying to look in. After services the leaders of the church linger and talk.  It is a blessing to be with brothers and sisters. We drive back down the mountain in the pitch black.  As is the custom, I ride in the back of the truck and am able to see so many stars.

~AM

I, personally, am still struggling against the heat.  Only Jesus is helping me to keep up.  Others seem to be coping.  Maybe I worked too hard on the wall the day before. We shop at an authentic, very authentic, public market.  We hand out tracts.  Everyone is receptive.

The sights and sounds blow me away.  Raw meat, close quarters, live crabs, children everywhere.  America seems so good to me.  We do run into Darwin, a Christian who lived in Texas for 17 years.  We are introduced to his family who all work in the market including his uncle, a butcher, who is missing most of the fingers on his right hand, and we give each a John and Romans.

~PM

We divide into two groups.  Pastor Krohn goes up the mountain to preach to a large group, open-air, style.  It is the first stages of a new church. Their sanctuary is the branches of a large tree; their pews the roots of the tree.  I travel to a tent meeting of a church that meets on Saturday because of the hunger the people have for the Word.  I preach there.  Authentic.  Wow.  Outside.  Chickens crowing, walking across the floor of the service.  People are engaged.  The singing, the spirit are humbling.  The girls, Jen and Ashalea, give the kids gospel bracelets. They are so grateful.  They have nothing.

~AM

We eat breakfast at 7am, and we are at the orphanage early. The ladies supply water, and pitch in with Mrs. Ritchie and the children.  Little girls take turns braiding the American girls long, light hair.  The men have two retaining walls to build and a drainage ditch to dig.  Hard work is the rule of the day.  Heat tops out at 105 F.  I learn how to make concrete by hand on the ground with shovels and a lot of grunting! 

I feel like Nehemiah building a wall.  Everyone works hard.  The work goes on and on it seems, but, finally, we are able to stop…for lunch. 

After lunch we are back at it.  I’m much slower.  Chris Smith and Barry Ritchie, Jr. still have some pep, and I am glad.  I haul concrete up a mountain a half dozen times.  The ditch is done, and so am I.

~PM

A child at the orphanage takes out a large iguana: they are happy, because they will have meat in the spaghetti sauce tonight.  A group goes to the Honduran Army base outside of town.  I have the honor of preaching the gospel to the entire 101st battalion.  I’m exhilarated by it.  We give every soldier, including the colonel, a Bible.  Several soldiers return after the message to ask for an extra Bible for their mothers. 

The men look so young.  There is a teachers’ strike in the nation; and the president has retaliated by closing school for a year.  Protests and even riots are looming.  They will be asked to put down the rioters.  We preach on the day the president announces that there will be no school.  Like the states, the national teachers are a strong force.

Iguana cooking!

Bro. Jim with an orphan

~AM

We wake up early, eat breakfast together.  Travel to the orphanage.