Day 2 in Honduras

We woke this morning to wind and rain. It didn’t stop Michelle from taking a run on the beach. After breakfast we were told we would be picked up at 9-ish for church. In Honduras, 9-ish means after 10am (just in case you who want to know how local time works).

Church was quite an experience. I fully expected to not understand a word that was said. However, the church’s (not Honduras, just this church specifically) first language is English and they translate into Spanish. The key leaders who started the church came from the island of Roatan, and their first language is English. That doesn’t mean we understood it all, mind you.

For those of you who think the music is loud at Dayspring, you should take a trek to this church. At Dayspring we shoot to have our loudest music peak at around 95 decibels. Larry speaks at about 88 decibels on a mic. At church this morning, the talking was 100 decibels, and the music averaged 107 decibels. Loud concerts run around 105 decibels. Suffice to say, even my ears were tired by the end of the service.

But what a service. We recognized several of the songs: Here I am to Worship, I Give You My Heart, Draw Me Close and a couple of others. I had never heard of the hymns before today. There were sung so fast that in my hymnal I could either follow the words or the melody line, but never both. I found that if I made Josh hold the hymnal I could still clap with the rest of the worshipers and at least look like I knew what I was doing.

One elderly woman held a shofar-like horn, and blew it whenever she liked something that was played or said…whether it was on key or off. Another lady in the congregation had a set of maracas that she played as they sang. The message was the second one that the elder, a young man just entering ministry, had ever spoken. It was enthusiastically presented in Spanish, interpreted by his wife (I think). Very emotionally delivered.

After church we returned to the hotel to eat lunch. We had a new driver, Nugget. He’s a little calmer of a driver than Emilio (though we aren’t supposed to tell Emilio that!). Felicia, a hygiene leader, also joined us for the two-hour drive to Saba where we checked into our new home for the next few days. No surprise. DeeDee decided to take a nap while we relaxed before our meeting tonight at 6pm (it is her first one for the trip, for the record).

Tonight we found out that we will be drilling in Nueve Mendes. They anticipate that our well will need to go 160-180 feet to reach an aquifer.

We’ll let you know more tomorrow.

Day 1 in Honduras

Since I felt the Holy Spirit leading me to explore drilling wells in third world countries a few months ago, there have been several times I've wondered what I've gotten myself into. Now that we are here - two plane rides and thousands of miles from home, I still wonder what's in store for us. Not from a fearful standpoint, but one of anticipation, knowing that God has called us here for a purpose.

From left: Michelle & Tony, Lori, Me, DeeDee, Josh, Justin & Jenny.

This morning we got on a plane in Houston, Texas. Three hours later we were standing at immigration in Honduras, trying to read the spanish signs (most of which were also in English).

We were met outside of the terminal by Emilio, our team leader, and Roberto. Emilio speaks English well, has a fun sense of humor, and had us singing songs we thought we forgot long ago (and some we actually did forget). It was a four hour drive from the airport in San Pedro Sula to Hotel Palma Real outside of La Ceiba, literally on the beach of the Caribbean. And my, what a drive. Potholes? No problem, we'll just swerve right around them. And school buses with their lights flashing and the stop sign out? Just swerve around them too. Policemen with AK-whatevers at checkpoints in almost every town, though none ever stopped us.

This was the most interesting house we saw...

It's put together using recycled materials, though the picture doesn't do it justice. You can't see it, but on the right side, second floor there is a bus (the whole bus) sticking out from the house which connects to a staircase down to ground level.

We ate lunch at, of all places, Burger King in El Progresso. The menu might be hard to read but the pictures are the same.

Our hotel is the Palma Real. It sits on the beach of the Caribbean. The water is bathwater warm. It seems to be a vacation destination for families from Honduras and elsewhere.

Tomorrow morning we join fellow believers at church before heading out on another two hour drive to the hotel that will be our home for the next several days. If I overheard correctly, the beds are nice but there isn't hot water. Oh well, showers are overrated anyway.

We are enjoying getting to know our team members from Florida and North Carolina. There are two teenagers besides Josh so he has someone his own age to talk to.

Pray for safety on the next leg of our journey.

The Presence of God Lotto

Luke 1:8-9 - It so happened that as Zachariah was carrying out his priestly duties before God, working the shift assigned to his regiment, it came his one turn in life to enter the sanctuary of God and burn incense. [Message]

This was Zachariah's fifteen minutes of fame, so to speak. The one and only moment in his life where he would be in the presence of God. I don't know if every priest got to burn incense in God's presence only once, or even at all. What about the ones who lived far away? Did every priest make a trek to serve as Zachariah's regiment did? The NIV says he was chosen by lot. With that method, I'd never get to go into the presence of God! I never win the lottery (of course, I'm told you have to buy a ticket to win). What about the other eleven tribes of Israel? They weren't even eligible for the Presence of God Lotto.

How different it is today. Thanks to the shed blood of Jesus, we who are saved are always in the presence of God. We can meet Him anywhere at any time. Of course, in the continual presence of God, most of us take it for granted. We treat the Divine like it is commonplace. For Zachariah, even without the angel, this was a holy moment...and everyone knew it.

Thank you, Father, for all the times I've clearly been aware of Your presence. I treasure those moments. Forgive me for all of the times I've ignored Your presence. May 2013 be a year spent knowing and appreciating Your presence in my life more deeply...each and every moment.

No pain, no gain

I like to run. Wait, let me qualify that. I like to run in warm, dry weather. I hate being cold so running in the wet winters of Oregon has always made it a challenge to exercise during the winter months. And, I'm at an age where I don't really have the option to not exercise if I want to stay healthy into my old age. I know that my wife would kill me if I died before her and left her a single mom while I got to enjoy my "mansion on a hill" in heaven.

I've never in my life worked out at a gym. Those of you who know me personally can attest to that fact. I'm thin and wiry with no muscle tone (not that anybody but DeeDee gets to see). I have no pecs. I would never need a "bro" in Seinfeld terms. I have bad posture, which I'm told could be helped if I'd buff up those pecs a little. Sadly I've lacked the discipline and drive to do anything about it. I've also never been able to overcome inertia to do anything about the sixpack I've always wanted.

Well, the perfect storm hit and I joined a gym. I decided that since I'm there, running on the treadmill while watching Netflix (which is a totally awesome way to run on a treadmill), that I would work on my other muscular deficiencies. I mean, I might as well take advantage of the opportunity while I have it.

I ache everywhere. And because I work out three times a week...it never goes away. I don't know how people do it year in and year out. And I totally recognize that the ache means I am building muscle - which I want - but I haven't yet gotten to the point where I can see any of the results. Still no pecs. Still a two-liter instead of a six-pack.

No pain, no gain. Whoever came up with that phrase should be forced to sit through every opera ever written (unless they like opera, but I'm thinking the five people in the world who do like opera probably don't hang out at the gym much).

Of course it's a great metaphor for our spiritual lives. Our spiritual journey is a marathon that requires us to train in order to make it across the finish line. Most of our training happens in places where we don't see the results for years to come. But if we don't train we'll never make it up the hill at mile five, or across the dessert at mile 19.

We'll never have spiritual abs or pecs, but just remain flabby and out of shape.

How is your spiritual training going? Are you still on the couch watching tv? Have you given up because you don't like the ache of a good spiritual workout? Or because you don't see instant results?

Run the race to win. See 1 Corinthians 9:24-27.

Great Green Gobs of Greasy Grimy Fish Guts

I was recently reading the familiar story of Jonah. You know the one…Jonah is told by God to do something, Jonah decides to do something else, God is unhappy with Jonah.

So God sends a hurricane to the Mediterranean to capture Jonah’s attention. You see, God doesn’t really appreciate it when we choose to disobey a direct order. In the middle of this storm, Jonah gets the picture (with the help of a few sailors) and surrenders himself to the purposes of God. Then the sailors throw him overboard…to die.

Think about it from Jonah’s perspective. He had no way of knowing that God wasn’t finished with him yet. From Jonah’s perspective he was being rightfully punished for his disobedience by sinking to his death.

Of course, we know that God had other plans. He sends a big fish to rescue Jonah. Hmm…can you imagine what that experience was really like? We’ve seen the cartoons. From Pinocchio to Veggie Tales, we have this image of a big, cave-like room. There are pieces of shipwrecks around…if not full ships. There’s lots of air, even a fire to keep warm. Really?

The temperature at the bottom of the ocean is just above freezing. The air would have been recycled through the fish’s system (think of airplane air…before it takes off!). He’d be surrounded by fish guts, seaweed, stomach bile, his own digestive junk (the most un-offensive way I can think to say it), not much room to move (talk about claustrophobic). Clearly he wasn’t staying at the Four Seasons Hotel. 

What would you do in that moment? What would your attitude be? Me…I’d be complaining, whining, shivering. My thought would be, “You’re King of the Universe and this is all you can send to save me?” Not very sanctified on my part.

Jonah worshiped. Chapter two of the book of Jonah captures the worship of Jonah’s heart. He was thankful. Given the death sentence he had just eluded, he was grateful that any lifeboat had shown up…not picky that it didn’t look the way he wanted it to.

How many times in our lives does God come to our rescue and we complain that he sends a fish and not a yacht? How many times do we complain in the face of challenging situations, instead of worshiping with grateful hearts that he loves us enough to rescue us at all?

Whatever challenge you face right now…will you worship?

Feasting in the Desert

Exodus 16:3 - "If only the Lord had killed us back in Egypt," they moaned. "There we sat around pots filled with meat and ate all the bread we wanted. But now you have brought us into this wilderness to starve us all to death."

God had promised the Israelites that He would free them from slavery and deliver them to the Promised Land, a land filled with milk and honey. On paper that sounds great. Notice how He didn't give them the road map ahead of time?

So here they are, one month into the journey. Thirty short days. Where is this Promised Land anyway? I'm ready for milk and honey. My feet are tired and if I have to sleep one more night on the ground my back is going to rebel. On and on and on, complaint after complaint. So God answers. In verse four we read, "Look, I'm going to rain down food from heaven for you."

Rock on. Turkey with all the fixings - stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberries, pumpkin pie. Or, maybe steak and baked potatoes. I'd even settle for a Big Mac! Whatever was coming...and I know that I'd build it up in my head...the King of the Universe, who has chosen my people to make into a nation, is going to provide in a miraculous way (think about the Red Sea, the Angel of Death, frogs, gnats, hail). Clearly this is a God who knows how to do it right. It's going to be awwwesommme!

The next day comes and what do we get...wings and crackers. You heard it right. Wings and crackers. Really God? Not even peanut butter for those Ritz crackers?

Have you ever wondered why God seems to under deliver? Don't get me wrong, a miracle is a miracle. But if we've been promised the Promised Land, why not turkey instead of hot wings? Why not an instantly healed marriage instead of one you have to keep working at? Why not a job we love instead of a crazy boss who steals all our joy? Why not a million bucks instead of just enough to pay the mortgage? A BMW instead of a Yugo?

Maybe it's because God knows our tendency to slide toward the comfortable. If we got turkey in the desert we'd never want to leave the desert. Like the Israelites we'd forget that freedom with crackers is better than slavery with a big ole' slab of meat. We'd forget that we're on His journey, not our own. His care for us keeps us longing for our arrival at the Promised Land.

So the next time you're tempted to complain that God hasn't pushed the easy button and given you what you want, remember that He's given you what you need; which is just enough to remind you tomorrow that what you need is Him!

Rebuilding Jerusalem

I've been working with a young man who is trying to kick an addiction. He has been working very hard, trying to do things the right way. For several months he's made the right choices. Today he failed.

The good news is that he is discouraged with himself. If his heart was hardened, and there was no hope for change, he wouldn't be discouraged.

I wouldn't be writing this if I were only talking about this one young man. Addictions come in all sorts of flavors, and I work with multiple addicts. In fact, to be honest, I was born with an addiction to sin, that I have been fighting all my life. And, since the flesh never gets better, I'd guess I'll be fighting it for some time to come.

Jesus died knowing that we would spend our earthly lives as recovering addicts - drugs, alcohol, sex, pornography, gossip, anger, self, self-righteousness, judgmentalism - you name it, the list goes on and on. We all struggle.

Good news can be found throughout the Bible, but today, Psalm 147:2 seem appropriate. It says, "The Lord is rebuilding Jerusalem and bringing the exiles back to Israel."

Obviously this was written for the nation of Israel. BUT, if Jerusalem is significant because God has chosen to dwell there, then it could be said that since God has chosen to dwell in our hearts that they also represent a Jerusalem of sorts. AND, if Israel is the Promised Land, blessed by the Almighty God, THEN: "The Lord is rebuilding my heart and bringing me out of exile and back into the Promised Land of right living with Him." It doesn't say He is done, just that He is rebuilding.

Jesus did the hardest part on the cross. His work is complete. We are in right standing with God if we have believed in Jesus. But our sanctification (the process of becoming righteous as we learn to live life God's way) won't be complete until we cross the finish line and enter Heaven.

A step in the wrong direction doesn't have to be an about face, it can just be a step backwards. Yes, setbacks can be disappointing, but they do not have to define you. Character is not living life perfectly. Character is what is built when you mess up. Don't give up the fight. He is calling you forward. Take a step that direction today!