All is well, but I still don't have the words...

Gracie told me earlier today that she had several emails and facebook messages from a few concerned people. I just got on facebook and found the same thing. I have not checked my email. Anyway, all is well everybody! I am healthy again - we all are!

We didn't have any events today. Gracie and I got up early to go to Tegucigalpa to get my luggage. We had breakfast at McDonald's, cappuccino at the airport, and finally got my luggage. Fortunately, I had most of my personal items with me on my carry-on. What  I didn't have, they had here (shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, & toothbrush. Praise God, I have my luggage and everything is in there. I wasn't too worried about my stuff, but I was feeling badly about the girls (Cindy & Karla) not getting their Christmas gifts. Fortunately, I don't have to worry anymore.

I know you all expect me to say something profound about Honduras... I honestly haven't been able to put it all into words yet. The other day I was sitting in the car while Gracie was in a store. While in the car, I saw kids sorting through two huge garbage bins of trash. There were also some homeless people going through through the dumpsters. As I watched, I saw a young boy (maybe 10 years old) pull out a piece of aluminum foil. He opened it and immediately ate whatever was in it. What do you say about that? What do you say about two children (a boy and a  girl) standing on the side of the road with an empty cardboard box. Neither of them could have been older than 7 or 8. I'm thinking closer to 5 or 6. Their  job is to collect trash! Trash, people! They are sent to the streets to collect trash!

Ahhh... I am having to remind myself to breathe. The things I've seen and heard here are hard to describe. They are heart-breaking, yet they anger me at the same time. I have seen children around age 3 or 4 sitting near or walking down the streets alone. Where are their parents for goodness sakes? Parents here aren't taught to love and care for their children here like they are in the U.S. Just a few days ago, we had a mom and a girl stay at the mission. It was like they were strangers.

I've heard stories of abductions, rapes, sex-trafficking, beatings, gang initiations, and more that are unimaginable.  It makes me sick at my stomach. Karla was raped every single night for a year by her father! Her father! She became pregnant so he gave her something to try to abort the baby. She ended up at the doctor. Thankfully, it was reported, and she was rescued and later brought here. Imagine the other thousands of boys and girls who are being sexually abused, raped, abandoned, and starved...

My mind is jumping from here to there about everything I've seen and heard... The other night we had a young boy who is about a year and a half years old stay the night with us here at the mission. His name was Joshua. We were gone all day to two of the Christmas events. Gracie had like 6 calls during the day. One of them was about this little boy. He was found in the streets. His mom was raped when she was 13 and became pregnant. They had her case several months ago because she tried to give the baby away. They were both put in INHFA (a place for at-risk children and families). Somehow they got out and were back on the streets. This time, little Joshua was thrown away like trash...

For his one night here at the mission, Joshua was loved. He was held, hugged, and kissed. He got to laugh and play. He was fed. Oh, I forgot to mention that Joshua was on my watch for the evening. I was blessed to feed the little guy. He ate his entire plate of spaghetti and most of mine. He was starving. He drank juice like he hadn't had anything to drink in days. He held onto that little yellow sippy cup so tightly. He didn't want to let it go. He was a doll. I ended up moving to Karla's room that night (and have been there since). Karla is in the house right now until the baby is older and sleeping through the night. Joshua slept in the bed with me and slept soundly. Before he went to sleep and when he woke up, he would just lie there and look at me. He wouldn't take his eyes off me (which is normal for kids like this). They just stare at you with those big brown eyes that beg you to never let them go. Thankfully, I was taking a bath when officials came to get him. That would have been very hard for me.

On our way home from the airport today, we drove past the dump just outside of Tegucigalpa. There are lots of houses all alongside the dump. In these houses are families and children whose job is to go into the dump to collect trash... Can you imagine? First of all, imagine the smell... Just driving by is bad. Living there is another story. I still can't wrap my mind around it. Children live there and go into the dump daily to collect trash. That is their entire life.

I am still kind of astounded by all of the bare and dirty feet and legs. There aren't really any words to describe it. I have photos (which I don't have time to post right now). Still, I don't think they will do the reality any justice. The reality here is that people here are in extreme poverty. They are super, super poor! The homes are wooden planks that the dirt and rain can blow right through. A lot of them don't look big enough to lie down in. Entire families, oftentimes several generations live in these homes. I am trying to think of the house I live in. It isn't mine. Still, I bet you could fit at least 25 of the homes here into that house. How sad is that? In America, we always want more more more. In Honduras, people just want to be able to have a small roof over their heads and some food to feed their children.

I suppose I need to stop writing. My head is still spinning. I keep thinking about these kids up in the mountains. One night their father went out for something. The neighbors heard moaning. They went into the house to find that the young boy had been beaten with a wooden plank and left for dead. The young girl... My stomach is churning as I think about it. The young girl was raped with a wooden stick and also left for dead. Somehow the people were able to carry them both down the mountain to receive help. The girl had to have surgery to repair the severe damage done inside of her... These kids were so traumatized that they couldn't even speak. Through that tragedy, the father came back to Christ. He knew that God saved the lives of his children and he gave his life back to God. Later, the young boy was saved and the mom also came back to Christ. It's a horrible, horrible story. Nonetheless, God can use terrible tragedies to bring great victories.

Life here is hard... It's rough. It's very real. It's like things you've only heard about and only seen in pictures. I'm still wrapping my mind around it all...

I don't know when I'll post again. Maybe tomorrow. If not, don't worry! All is well!