God is in This City (2)

United States of America. Day 1.

I started this blog talking about how I was making an escape to Honduras, only to find a God there who was alive and well in the capital city of Tegucigalpa. And I now conclude this blog by saying that I have returned home from that city today and found that that same God is here inthis city in America as well; a God who is still living, breathing, active, and unchanging. He is the God who has done amazing works in a city in Honduras this summer, and allowed me to witness some of them. And He is the God who, I know, will now not only continue good works in that city while I'm gone, but will let me continue to witness the might and wonder of His glory through His works where I am now.

So, I'm not "home" from a mission trip right now. Because I have realized that my life is a mission trip. A mission trip is a journey in which a person goes to some strange land to try and reveal Christ to others there, but then they return home. Well, if my home is actually not here but in Heaven, then every day that I spend on this planet is a day in some strange land where Christ is still needing to be revealed: whether it be Tegucigalpa, Starkville, or Henderson. And some day (but not today) I will finish this mission trip on this earth and FINALLY

go home.

***

"God of This City"

by Chris Tomlin

You're the God of this city
You're the King of these people
You're the Lord of this nation
You Are

For there is no one like our God
There is no one like our God

Greater things have yet to come
Great things are still to be done
In this city
Greater things are still to come
And greater things are still to be done here

You're the Lord of Creation
The Creator of all things
You're the King above all Kings
You Are

You're the strength in our weakness
You're the love to the broken
You're the joy in the sadness
You Are

Greater things have yet to come
Great things are still to be done
In this city
Where glory shines from hearts alive
With praise for you and love for you
In this city

Greater things have yet to come
Great things are still to be done
In this city
Greater things are still to come
And greater things are still to be done here

My Last Day

Honduras. Day 65.

It's been a crazy past two months, so why wouldn't it be a crazy last day too?

This morning I took a small group of guys to go and re-do a roof on Anna's (Danella, Josilyn, and Lester's mom) house. I promised to get her a new roof back in June, if you remember that from one of the old blog entries, and I was fearing that that promise was going to fall through and I'd never get to fix the roof of one of my favorite families in all of Hondo. But Marc gave me enough money to buy all of the wood and tin I would need to go and get it done today, and he let me pick four other guys and basically just said, "Go do it!"

So me, Nolan, Parker, Lee, and Justin went out to Villa Nueva Sector Ocho for the last day of our trip. And what a day it was. The roof was much more complicated than we expected. We were trying to salvage as much of the old tin and wood as possible (and dodging all of the way too scary electrical wiring). The problem was, some of the wood didn't want to be salvaged; it was way too weak and kept threatening to break all day long. And, of course, you knew it had to happen sooner or later... It broke. And guess who it broke under? If you guessed, "Arroz," you guessed right. The roof split right underneath me about 30 minutes into the tear-down, and I broke through all the way to the ground. Thankfully, their bed was right under where I fell.

I saw Jesus in a conveniently placed bed today.

We eventually got the roof off, and then argued through how we were going to assemble the new roof pieces (as Lee said, we were "free-styling" today because no one had ever tried to re-roof on a concrete block house before). We got a good roof support system laid out, took a Wendy's break (David and Stacy Maharrey are now adding the last tick mark to how many times I've eaten out this summer), and then went to go buy some extra tin. We hauled the tin back and finished the house.

Awesome, awesome, awesome day.

I got to say my "goodbye's" and "I love you's" to several of my kids in Sector Ocho, and then it was time to go because it was getting so late. And as we rolled out of that village for

one last time

I heard all of the kids and brothers and sisters I had come to know so well saying, "Adios! Adios!" But among those "Adios!'s," I heard Anna crying out, "Gracias! Gracias! Gracias!" And her neighbors saying, "Gracias a Dios!" ("Thank you, God!") It's been a long, crazy, challenging summer, but hearing the cries of a people who say, "Thank you," and not to me but to God, makes it all seem complete in some way.

God has a way of completing things, I suppose.