A lot of people have asked me about Honduras. And every single time, my response is largely the same as the last; "Awesome." "Incredible." "Life-Changing." "Indescribable." So on, so forth.
And although every single one of those adjectives is accurate, it's not enough. And I can see it on people's faces when all I can find are those barren words. Because they can't see my heart and more than that, they weren't there to experience it first hand: a description no words do justice.

So, I thought I would post an entry from my journal to try and give you a glimpse of what it was like. The parenthesized italics are notes I've added for your better understanding.

July 3rd
"This morning started earlier than usual. We were supposed to leave the Villa at 7:30 to get to Didasko (an orphanage about an hour away from Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras) by 9 for a VBS and medical clinic. They said there would be like 150 kids. We had a slow bus driver, though, so it took a while to get down the mountain. Then, we had to stop by the grocery store. So then, we are on the way, going straight through downtown, which is pretty awesome cause everyone is on the streets selling stuff, and we are going about 10mph up a hill. THEN, this big, black smoke starts billowing out of the engine: we are stuck. Apparently the piston was sticking out of the engine and apparently that's bad. Currently we are just sitting on the side of the road, just waiting. Satan is working. He is after us. He is after me. But God is faithful and, as a bus, we prayed for His guidance and transportation.

(the end of the day)
Well, an hour later we made it to Didasko. I felt really bad because we were 2.5 hours late and people, women, were just sitting around waiting, especially for the medical clinic (this is probably the only time they will get medical attention for who knows how long, and it is free to them). So we busted it to get the bus unloaded. Once we did, we tried to begin what proved to be an extremely chaotic VBS. Minor was really the only one who knew Spanish, besides another girl (Jesse!) from Costa Rica, and the kids did not want to listen. But we sang, acted out the story of David and Goliath, and let them throw water balloons at Little Joe. It was awesome :). We also handed out toys and snacks and painted nails. One little boy quickly became my favorite. His name is Minor, and his eyes are so richly beautiful. He walked around blowing bubbles all day, and he painted my nails. When we were about to leave, though, he wouldn't give me a hug or even say adios, but he was doing that for everyone else! Eventually, though, he said goodbye, and as we were pulling out he waved and gave me a huge smile, maybe the second time the whole day. Of course my heart swelled and broke. Those kids were unwanted, and in many cases, abused. At so young, they already have a huge battle to fight."

My Minor