Gloria a Dios...

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Thank you to everyone who prayed for our group while we were away in Honduras! The Lord landed our plane safely back into the Ft. Lauderdale airport early Saturday morning! After being in a Spanish speaking country for a week we were a little taken aback when we stepped off the plane and were greeted with a "Good Morning!" and not a "Buenos Dias".

What I write for this post will surely only scratch the surface of everything that took place, but I hope it will give you a glimpse into what we experienced.

Our first day in Honduras we walked through town talking with people, inviting them to our church services the next day and giving lollipops and "goodie" bags to the children who weren't too shy to approach us. It was hot. The streets were scattered with trash and with the occasional bike, motorcycle and car flying driving by, the dust came in puffy clouds. We'd been warned the motorists stop for no one, so we tried to stay out of their way. By the end of that week I was so accustomed to it I was shocked when a car actually stopped at a STOP sign and let us cross the street! The children had such bright smiles. It stretched across their faces and made their eyes crinkle up. They loved our cameras but were timid about approaching until you showed them their picture and then they would laugh and point at the screen! I watched them run down the street clutching the lollipops and was humbled by how much joy a small piece of candy can bring.

The Pastor and his wife served us straight from their hearts. Every day we walked into their home she was already at the stove frying chicken or flipping tortillas. We would get in the kitchen and try to help but our tortilla flipping skills were lacking. We created our own version called the "mini Honduran tortilla". She laughed at us and spoke Spanish and we laughed and spoke English and we understood one another to a degree. I told her one day I would teach her the Mexican way of tortillas, with a rolling pin. She said, "Absolutely not, it would take way too long!" I wish I could have somehow captured pieces of our trip to communicate to everyone how thrilling it was to be there. 

The services at night were centered on marriage and the family. Not speaking Spanish and understanding very little gave us more of an awareness of how the Holy Spirit was moving. To see people cry, and go up to the front for prayer was something that moved me...even though I wasn't quite sure why they were going up front. I knew that it meant hearts had been moved, and I would begin to pray...it was a beautiful three nights.

I know God did a work in all of our hearts this trip...every one of us perhaps in a different way. God challenged us in certain aspects of our lives. One night at church, a guest pastor and a man from his congregation got up with their guitars and sang a song. It was all in Spanish. The expressions on their faces as they sang was one of pure worship to God. As they sang the chorus it was one word: "Hallelujah...Hallelujah...Hallelujah."  God spoke to me that night. Surrounded by so many loving people. In a beautiful church with dirt floors and no roof, just the stars, He spoke to my heart. "Will you praise Me?...In all things? In every circumstance of your life, not just the happy times but hard times too; will you make that choice to lift up your hands and praise me?" To sing Hallelujah?...

Olivia














































































































































































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