When I signed up to go on a mission trip to Honduras, I almost didn't want to go because I knew my heart would be broken when I left. But I am so glad I did. Our team leaders, the Martins, are some of the best people around and I look up to them so much. Each and every person on my team was selfless and inspiring with a love for Jesus. We became lifelong close friends. And the amazing missionaries we visited gave us team members a lifetime of experiences that keep running through my brain. It is hard to think about the memories because they make me long to go back, making my emotions pound with sadness. But I don't want to forget. It's so hard. But I don't want to forget scraping the bottom of the empty soup pot at the dump, looking behind me to see the homeless people still waiting in line. I don't want to forget their weary faces that didn't make a sound of complaint when we ran out of food, seeing them walk away in silence. I don't want to forget making eye contact with the man lying on a stretcher in the middle of the hospital hallway. Or feebly teaching "Jesus loves me" to the children in the cancer ward, and looking down to see them singing along through their masks. We weren't allowed to take pictures, and we couldn't touch them, so it was so hard to communicate. The only way we could, was through singing. It was amazing. I don't want to forget the moment a young man with disabilities asked me to push his wheelchair made out of bicycle tires and a lawn chair. It was hard to go into an orphanage where kids could barely talk let alone in English. But seeing the smiles on the kids faces when we colored with them made it all worth it. Hearing the hospital workers thank us over and over for the care packages, handing the last small bowl of hot soup to a person in line at the dump, singing along with the Hondurans in Spanish at church, and basically just seeing the living conditions where some of these sweet people live are moments I will always remember. My favorite memory is why I hold the highest respect for the Kuhns and the Cressmans, when we went to see the parents of children in the cancer ward. The parents were standing out in the hallway outside the doors where their children lay, waiting for our care packages and our love. One by one the parents asked for prayer and the missionaries put their hands on their shoulder, filling the hallways with pleas for God to come to this place. Everyone was putting their hands in the air and crying out to God to heal their child. I have never seen such an expression of love and fear, English and Spanish, or different cultures mixing in prayer. My fellow team members and I stood in the midst of the group in awe and tears, wondering how we were allowed to do this in such a public setting. The Honduran people were so open to us showing them Jesus. I can't believe how amazing this experience was and the continued work that the missionaries are doing there. I can't be there any longer to help, but the people will always be in my heart. Everything we did and everyone we met showed how Jesus is working in the people of Honduras and how he can work here at home. I have given you a tiny glimpse of this trip, and I will definitely post more about Honduras in the future. I'm absolutely overwhelmed with thankfulness that I got to go there and meet these amazing people. I can't wait to see them again someday.
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about the authorAs a 21 year old aspiring teacher, Karissa loves to write, travel, play piano, and read. Many creative things have her heart. archives
November 2021
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