From A Cornfield In Indiana To A Cornfield In Honduras

Last week one of our groups was from Mitchell, Indiana.  Corn country.  I have never been to Mitchell, but they say they live in a cornfield.  Their goal in Honduras is work with a small village here.  To go back every year.  Make friends.  Work with the church in that community.  Marc found a perfect fit for them.  A little village called Guajire.  Last week was the second time they had worked in the community.

There was already a church in existence, but it was meeting in a house.  Last week the team from Mitchell built a new church building.  It was a double wide wooden house.  Last week Marc promised a little girl he would buy her some school shoes.  After purchasing the shoes, Marc and I headed out of Tegucigalpa for Guajire.  As we snaked our way through the winding roads high above Tegucigalpa, we could feel the temperature dropping.  It was 82 degrees when we left Tegucigalpa and 72 when we arrived in Guajire.  And by the way, it was 90 when we got back to Tegucigalpa.

We were definitely in farm country.  There were cabbage patches on the left and I said I wanted to get a picture on the way down.  Marc said don't worry, we are going to go right through a cabbage patch in a minute.  He wasn't teasing.

We stopped at a house in which a man named Coronado and his family lived.  Guajire is a poor, poor community.  And Coronado's family is no exception.

We walked through a cornfield to get to the house where Lidia lives, the little girl for whom we bought the shoes.  After visiting for a few minutes, we walked through another cornfield, with a clearly well-worn path.

And at the end of the path, stood a brand new wooden church building and two Sunday school classrooms.

We looked inside the building.  Not glamorous by U.S. standards, but the community of Guajire are very proud of their new building.  Friday afternoon, as the group worked there, there was one baptism.  And two more on Sunday morning.  Praise God.

Last week it was rainy when the church building was built.  More than just a little rainy.  The lumber truck got stuck in the mud and had to be pulled out by an oxcart.  Then Marc had to hire the oxcart to haul the lumber.  Oh, never a dull moment.  

As we were leaving, Coronado tried to give us some of his beans. 

There was not enough food to feed his family, but Hondurans are very generous people.  We told him we were leaving for the States and would not be able to eat them.  I was in tears at his sincere generosity.

How thankful I am for people that live in a cornfield in Indiana want to come work with a poor church in a cornfield in Guajire.

Terri