The other day we went to a community right outside of Tegucigalpa called Mirador Oriente or Nuevo Oriental to build a house. There is a food kitchen there that Andrea, Rayner and I worked a lot at this past summer. All of the ladies that work there are Christians, and it was good to get to see one of them - Pamela - again and catch up more now that speaking and understanding spanish comes a lot easier. She fractured her hand somehow and can't work right now so the girls and I might be going up there a lot to help in the kitchen since they are shorthanded.

So, back to building the house. Mirador Oriente is one of the coolest places to work, all of the people there just pitch in to help - boys, men, and women flock to the site to watch and help wherever they can. The house went up fast (it took fourish hours) since there were so many helpers. I was helping put in the floor, but one of the boys (he was probably 6 or 7) there wanted to help so bad, so I let him hammer after a while. He was a great worker.

A lady there, Araminta came up and asked me if there was any work for her to do - her baby has pneumonia, and there is no father to help provide for her family. We thought that if we could bring her and the baby to the hospital we could buy her medicine and help out a bit, but she said it was okay, she just needed a bed for them to sleep in, because they were sleeping on the floor and it wasn't good for the baby to get all bit up by the bugs that are on the ground.
Marc said we could go get her a bed, so Lord willing we'll be going and getting them one sometime this week.

All she wanted was a bed for her baby to sleep in.

It's impossible to understand the poverty here from just looking at pictures. I knew before I came that the people were poor here. But looking into their eyes and seeing there is no difference between me and them except for where I was born is humbling.
The difference between getting a meal and going without.
The difference between getting sold as sex slaves from childhood up or not.
The difference between our lives.
On the American side, there is plenty. On the Honduran side, there is starving and pain and poverty.
Just because of where we were born.
Can we as Americans take the riches we were given as our right? When there are people starving just half a continent away? I can see why God speaks up against the complacent rich so harshly now.

When you look into someones eyes and see the same hopes, dreams, and desires - someone who lacks things we accept in the States as basic human needs. A house, a bed, some food, stuff like that.

I don't think I'll ever be able to see things in the same light.
I won't be able to walk into the mall and buy a new outfit without thinking of the people here, or go get a bite to eat and think about the people who are so thankful for a baloney sandwich at the dump, or watch a suffering soul from far away. Not after this.

It just made me think.

  And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment,
And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.
   
    Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him: for she is a sinner.
And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on.

    There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty.
And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most?

    Simon answered and said, I suppose that he, to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged.
    And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head.
    Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet.
My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment.
    Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.

    And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven.

And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also?

    And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.

and on a less thoughful note: I'm thinking of buying a parrot.
Gonzalo, one of my friends here, says that he could sell me one for 200 or 300 lempiras.

This love is indescribable. 
Too deep, too wide, too all encompassing to imagine. 
It fills the universe to bursting, and then fills it some more.
It burns our hearts with its holy fire - holy, all consuming fire that cleanses, purifies.
This love is indescribable.
All the words in the world phrased in a million different ways could not describe it - they would be but a shadow of the true light of this love, they would be but a smidgen of dirt compared to the purity of this love, they would be but a drop in the ocean of this love.
Our God is love. And He is indescribable. 

It's one of those days when I feel drunk off of His love, filled with the hope He's given me, bursting at the seams with His joy, and awestruck by His cleansing power. That He loves a wretch like me.

The Great Physician. Jesus, lover of my soul.  

Lord, I love You. You are indescribable.