March, 1999. La Ceiba, Honduras

“Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord and He will lift you up” James 4:10

In 1998, Hurricane Mitch devastated the Northern coast of Honduras, killing hundreds of people and destroying homes, businesses and much infrastructure.  Shortly afterward we, along with our son Patrick, made our first ministry trip there.  We worked with two American missionaries who were ministering near the town of La Ceiba.

The two missionary men, Quinton and Steve, took us to a coastal village where they were trying to revive a work that had been in progress there for over forty years. When the resident missionary retired and returned to the States, the church attendance diminished greatly.  Now these two missionaries were visiting this village regularly and trying to encourage the church to come back together.

We went by boat up into a lagoon near the ocean and when we finally arrived, there was a group to meet us to help carry our equipment and luggage.  Many in the group were women and one woman hoisted even the heavy generator onto her head and off she went. This was a very remote place but even here we saw bottles of coca cola for sale!

We found the place where we would work and stay – a shed-like structure-affectionately called “the hotel.” It was rustic but it did have a bathroom with a make shift shower – a 55 gallon drum of water up in the rafters of the bathroom.  There were mouse droppings everywhere and deep dust.  The person who had constructed “the hotel” had left spaces of about a half an inch between the boards of the walls for ventilation. It was hot and humid there. We set to work with gloves and wipes (that could kill anything), to make the bathroom a little more sanitary.

It was to be a “toughening up time” for us.  We had only been in missions for a short time and we had a lot to learn and a lot to learn to laugh about!

One of the missionaries, Quinton, had been there for a few years and was much more experienced than we were.  It must have been obvious that we were rookies.  Quinton was kind to us though and seemed to take all the challenges of the trip in stride.  As we traveled he would share stories about the North Coast and talk about it being the Wild West of Honduras.  There was a lot of drug running on the North Coast as drugs were smuggled up from South America, through Honduras, into Mexico and then into the United States. Quinton seemed to love regaling us with tales of people being massacred on the roads as they were mistaken for drug runners or rival drug lords being “taken out” by competing drug runners. Quinton himself had had quite a few of his own close calls which he shared in detail. It was scary stuff and we were feeling like we might be in way over our heads here.

The trip hadn’t started well for Jennifer.  The evening before our early morning flight, our friend Sarah, had asked her to bring a bunch of clothes to be distributed to the poor people who had survived the hurricane. She wanted so much to be a help and we took them because we loved her heart for people in need. Jennifer unpacked her dresses that she was bringing to take the ones Sarah was donating as they were the same size. The plan was for Jennifer to wear them while we were there and then leave them when the trip was completed. It sounded like the perfect solution until Jennifer unpacked them in Honduras and realized they were maternity clothes! She only had one dress of her own that she had worn on the plane besides these large dresses. It was a humbling experience for her for sure!

Another friend had insisted on sending a white hat with her that came in a small pouch and would be perfect for the hot central American sun. She agreed to bring it but when she needed it for the long walk from the boat, she uncoiled it from the pouch and it sprang open and was almost the size of a sombrero! Quinton rolled his eyes at her as she wished she had checked these things out before she brought them.

We finally reached “the hotel” and that’s when we went to work to clean it and make it livable. The darkness came quickly, being so close to the equator, so we took our showers under the 55 gallon drum and climbed into bed.  Exhausted, we slept, even though there were many bugs.

In the morning, we had a simple breakfast and were going to walk in the village to church. Jennifer had brought sandals to wear because of the heat but changed her mind when Quinton told her that she would have pig parasites burrowing into her toes and feet if she wore open toed footwear. Oops.

We worshipped with the Honduran believers although we couldn’t understand what was being said.  It would be one of many such services over the years, but it was still a blessing to be part of a service that worshipped the same God, just in another language.

On Monday, we had our first day of clinic.  Our missionary host was doubting there would be much of a turn out but we were overrun with patients.  The children of the village came for something to do and tore the screens off the windows for fun. They laughed as the missionaries scolded them angrily.  Their parents didn’t register any of them for treatment which may have been for the best, they were incorrigible. As the days went by the missionaries grew more encouraged as they had many opportunities to share the gospel.  We were encouraged too as our little clinic was functioning as we had always dreamed it would, drawing people for dental care and some of them finding Christ!

The last day was so busy and Jennifer had a headache from the heat and stress of trying to treat so many people in such a small space, while trying to keep the children from destroying the screens. She hurriedly took some aspirin only to realize she had used the patient’s cup for rinsing her mouth, instead of the water she had poured for herself. Ick!  Then a chairside accident necessitated her changing her clothes. In the little bathroom, she was in the middle of changing when she realized there were ten pairs of eyes watching her from the spaces between the boards. That was a low point for her. She could hear them laughing, another humbling experience! They probably had been there every night as we showered too. But there was nothing to be done about it but go back to work.  There were still so many people who needed to be treated and to hear about the God who had died in their place to save them.

The next day it was time to leave and go back to La Ceiba but a sand bar had formed since we had arrived in the village and made the way out by the lagoon impossible.  Our equipment and supplies and suitcases had to be taken instead out into the open ocean in small canoes while we walked down the beach a long way before we were able to get back to our boat.  We feared that the canoes would capsize as the water was very rough and we would never see our things again, but they survived their ocean voyage, a little damp but still in good order.

So what were some of the lessons learned? The only way to stop being a rookies was to stick with it and learn from our mistakes. It isn’t fatal to look foolish on a mission trip, it is the gospel going forth that matters.

Also, medical missions works in different cultures to bring many people in contact with the gospel and also giving the missionary a positive interaction with those people.

Next, being highly uncomfortable on a missions trip is to be expected! It isn’t like going on vacation but it doesn’t last forever. Besides God is a God of grace who helps, even in the low times!