Honduras 2004
Rod’s Devotion June 8, 2004

As a kid he ran the hills from sun up to sun down, playing any kind of ball he could get his hands on. His brothers and childhood friends all dreamed of playing in the major leagues, becoming rock stars, policemen or firemen, but he felt something else tugging at him. Then one day while watching television the slogan of an ad rang out loud and clear, “The toughest job you’ll ever love.” That’s right, the United States Peace Corps. He dreamt of hundreds of foreign lands where he could one day help people every day of his life and somehow scratch out a respectable existence. He was the only kid in his 6th grade class that could identify every country on the globe in his classroom. He would spend hours drawing maps from memory of places he would like to visit. Somehow those places seemed so far away from the hills and streams of West Virginia.

Twenty some odd years later he found himself in the first church he had ever attended regularly. It seems to me it must have been about three years now. He was sitting between his wife of ten years and his two beautiful and healthy children. During the announcements that Sunday the pastor mentioned the possibility that they would be sponsoring a Medical mission trip to Honduras. The big screen at the front of the Chapel showed the face of an adorable Hispanic boy that had the most peaceful smile. That very instant he and his wife turned to each other and simultaneously said, “Wouldn’t that be great!” It was clear that some of the embers from his childhood were still burning deep within him. Still he questioned whether he was worthy to step forward to assume a role of ambassador for his church. So he did nothing.

Three days later he received an email from a friend inviting him to come with he and his wife to a meeting to gather information about this trip. Three weeks later he stood before his entire congregation twice. Fighting back tears he pleaded for items that were needed for a tiny village in a country he had never stepped foot in. The response was absolutely phenomenal! It was obvious that many of the people that sat next to him week in and week out wanted to help the same way that he did. The congregation had collected more than he had ever imagined. He had not left yet but he knew and was proud he had taken the first step toward helping his future friends in Honduras.

Much like twenty three years earlier in 6th grade, he set out to find out as much information as he could about this country he once dreamed of visiting as a child. He practiced speaking Spanish and scoured the internet for hours after he put his kids to bed. He worked on these skills to make sure he was a good ambassador for his church and to make sure he contributed everything he could to insure the success of the mission.

Then of Friday, June 4th, of 2004 that hillbilly from West Virginia’s feet finally hit foreign soil! He was immediately taken by the natural beauty of this strange place. His leg fell asleep on the long bus ride to the village, because he had spent five hours on his knees peering out of his window. Before exiting the bus they were greeted by the most lovable bunch of children. The kids excitedly ran to their brothers and sisters they calling out, “Gringos, Gringos, Gringos Aqui!” The kids were almost as thrilled to see the strangers as he was to see the children. All was fabulous and nothing could possibly go wrong or could it?

Saturday he wanted to hit the ground running. He was going to do all he could to make this trip a success. He was barking out orders and planning what had to be done next. Things did not go as planned. He was unable to finish any of his projects as he had expected. He was depressed and again questioned his worthiness for being an ambassador. He learned at dinner that Mike Myers, the team dentist, had cut himself with a contaminated tool while trying to extract someone’s tooth. Having done all the research to prepare for this trip he was aware that AIDS is six times more prevalent in Honduras than in the United States. Nearly one person in fifty is afflicted with this disease and these people are not privy to the drug cocktails and other treatments we take for granted in the U.S. Shortly after finding out about Dr. Myers cut, he experienced something he could never find on a globe, in a text book or even on the internet. He saw faith! He saw faith in God and he saw it in action. It was revealed to him by Sister Eleanor Cooper, National Director of the missionaries that they were working with. This kind and humble woman, demure in stature and full of love was transformed. She laid her hands on Mike and began to pray for him not to be infected. She prayed with a power and conviction that amazed him. He stood in awe as she continued. She believed every word that rolled off her tongue would come true! She reminded God that all shall be protected while doing his work. Her prayer made him realize he was not being faithful. That night he fell asleep reading lessons of faithfulness in the book of Romans and Second Corinthians.

With Sunday came a different adventure. He and his gang of new friends went out to Sulaco, a new town and were greeted to hundreds of smiles and handshakes. Our bus pulled up to a muddy lot surrounded by barbed wire. Church was being held in a small open air pavilion with hand cut posts, a steel roof, a sawdust floor and palm fronds for walls on two sides of the building. Smiles were everywhere! They had very little there but it did not matter the smiles were everywhere!

After a short prayer, Brother Philippe, who they had picked up earlier on the bus was going to sing while his little boy played an electric piano. As they began playing the tune sounded familiar and then it hit me. Yes it hit me not him! You see as a fill in member of the Good Shepherd praise team this was the first song I ever played at church. “Lord I Lift Your Name on High.” As I watched the beautiful children through tears, they were singing and dancing while praising our almighty Father. My mind raced back to my brothers and sisters at Good Shepherd who were worshiping at that very same time. I thanked them for the opportunity to experience this and their unwavering generosity when I had called on them for support. I also thought of my Good Shepherd teammates who extended a hand to me to join them on this wonderful adventure. I marveled in watching the joy on their faces. I later learned that Brother Philippe saw the effect it had on us. He realized we knew the song in English. God moved him to continue to sing it again and again and again as it touched my heart.

Moments later I was simply blown away, when Sister Eleanor began to talk about the very thing that I had questioned the night before. She purposely bumped in to Harriet Kelly, our interpreter to display how many of people in the bible touched Jesus but never received the blessing of touching the Messiah because they did not have faith. She said, “Faith can cure the sick! Faith could move a mountain!” Her point was that whether you are a poor Honduran child, a powerful and respected missionary or even a coal miner’s son from West Virginia you can receive a miracle if you have faith. I closed my eyes as she prayed and a wave of love came over me. One greater than I have ever felt before! I envisioned it pouring out of me, touching everybody in its path as it rolled over the mountains surrounding Sulaco, covered Honduras, crossed every Ocean on its way to each and every country on that globe in my 6th grade class.

Stanley shared one very important life lesson with me that I will never forget. God does not promise us success. He promises us his love in return for our faithfulness. I experienced it first hand! It was truly the most amazing spiritual moment of my life. I have returned home a different man, full of God’s love wanting to share it with everyone. After all, we are all worthy of a miracle.

May God bless you and keep you,
Rod Beck