Day 3 - Monday 7

6:45 comes early, let me tell you. 6:45 means breakfast time in Honduras. 6:45 also means time for good food. The food that Via Gracia makes is wonderful. Every meal we eat here (breakfast and dinner) is awesome. I definitely look forward to it - if you can look forward to anything at 6:45.

Today was our first building day which means hard work. When we say building, we mean b-u-i-l-d-i-n-g. From the ground up, the house begins to take shape. It is a very exciting thing to see. We supply the materials. We supply the labor. All we need is the location. That has been a slight cause for concern this year but never enough to stop progress. Today, we broke into three different teams building three different houses. From nothing to something in a few hours - it was awesome to be a part of.

The day started with carrying lumber again, which is the hardest part of the mission trip so far. We carried...and we carried...and we carried. The first four hours of the day were spent carrying and preparing the first site. It required all thirty of us to get the job started. Once the job was underway, our team left to build on another site. Before I move on to our site, there is a cool story that goes with site number 1 and 2.

We had begun moving lumber for site 1 yesterday. We carried it as far as we could go but could go no further because of the high grass. We dropped it, all of it, enough for one whole house, in the middle of this path. The owner of the “soon-to-be new house” was to stay and watch it all night - in Honduras, if something is left unwatched, it is in danger of being stolen. He had to stay and watch. Not only that, he had the chore of clearing a path for us with his machete. Today, when we arrived to unload the second truck full of lumber for the second house, we found the first pile of wood had been moved. It was no longer where we left it - it was now where we needed it to be. We were told quickly that it was the man whose houses we were building. He, in between guarding wood and hacking down grass, moved every piece of wood by himself. By himself. It took 30 of us well over an hour to do it half the way down the hill. His first words today, “I’m sorry I can’t help you any more than that.”

The houses we were building on the first site were for him and his family. He had thirteen people living in his 15x15 home. We were able to provide a Christian brother with room - something he has had none of. While work was being done today, he dug out stairs for our workers, so they wouldn’t fall like he did the day before. His love and generosity is absolutely overwhelming. A man with nothing at all, gives his everything for some strangers. He exerted every ounce of himself to make work easier for us. I came into this trip feeling like I was here to help them because I had it together, and they didn’t. I had money, and they didn’t. I am finding out rapidly that these people are head and shoulders above me in selflessness. Personal comfort means nothing. Exhaustion means nothing. I am over and over again being blown away by generosity from people with nothing to give. Amazing.

Our site was a breeze today. No hang-ups - no set-backs. Other than Joe Spivy being locked in the bathroom for thirty minutes, everything was smooth sailing. Another cool story from today that just has to be told: it was mentioned in our morning devo about kids and their lack of father figures. We were told most, as in 80 to 90 percent, are without a male role model in their lives. If you have the opportunity, be a role model. Show them how to swing a hammer. Pat them on the shoulder. Do something to show them you care for them. My wife prayed for God to put someone into our lives today that we could be mentors for.

From the very moment we loaded the bus in the morning, there was a strange face among us. He was only ten to twelve years old, but no one recognized him. He loaded the bus like any other member of our team, and we set off. After helping in the lumber carrying process I described earlier, he reboarded the bus and came to my site. He spoke no English; he seemed to just want to help.

As the day wore on, he started to show a comfort with me that I hadn’t seen coming. He began to smile at me. He began to tap me as we passed ways. He showed me an ornery side that none of us knew he had...frankly because none of us knew him. I couldn’t communicate with him verbally, but I could in other ways. I knew his name was Mannuel; that was enough. Even later, when we came home for dinner, he sat right beside me. We later found out that his mother works at Via Gracia, where we stay. He asked his mom if he could come to work with her and spend a day with a mission team. He did - he boarded our bus - he joined my team - he attached himself to me. God is amazing.

The last thing we did today was a new feature of our mission trip. We were going to feed the homeless. Homeless life is always a challenge to work with, but, here in Honduras, there are added challenges. We were warned sternly about the dangers associated with going downtown at night. Crime is high. Drug use is high. This wasn’t building a house for a member of the local congregation.

We met up with the founder of the mission, Amber. She ran us through the ground rules, and we were off. We were to complete three different stops with the food that she had prepared and feed up to 100 people. We were told that one thing will stick out - hopelessness.

Through every stop we made, the hopelessness of these people stuck out more and more to me. They were without food. They were without water. They were without home and shelter. The worst part - they were without love. They had no one to run to. No one to ask for help. No one to pick them up when they are at their lowest point and turn them back around. They had no one to love them. It was heartbreaking to watch. How do I interact with a nineteen year old drug addict who’s been living on the street for five years? What can I say to this kid? The most we could do is put our hand on their shoulder and show them we love them. When seemingly no one else in this world cares for them, we do.

The experience of this particular mission was eye opening. Seeing grown people, living a life of a homeless drug addict, hugging our group members and pouring out their soul was nothing short of intense. I praise God that I have hope. If my everything in this world was taken away, I would always have a hope for something better. These people need Christ as much as anyone I’ve ever met. They are no less worthy - they are screaming for it. They need a way out of this hole - Jesus is the way out.

God, thank you so much for being my father. For giving me life. God, thank you for being with me through everything that I experience. Having you with me is a comfort and a source of strength. Whether it is moving crazy heavy boards or meeting Spanish-speaking homeless people, you are always with me. What can I fear if you are with me?

Lord, work through us this week. Speak through us to people who need to hear. Lead us to the ones who you have chosen. God, you are our everything. All my faith is in you. Take all of me, God. Leave nothing for me - take it all. God, help us to serve you tomorrow with all of our hearts. We love you.

Andrew Moore