I love the villages here. If I could teleport myself to them it would be much better, but I still love them. The people are extremely nice. Seriously, every house we go to greets us with a cup of coffee and some version of sweet bread.
The wife of the Honduran missionary said to me, "Meagan, you want to be a missionary right? You have to like coffee." My response? No problem! The coffee here is delish, but they do put sugar in it so I'm ready for some straight black dark roast coffee.
Some houses up in the mountains do not have electricity so they use what I think are kerosene lanterns. Others have solar panels that are able to light a few bulbs. One thing is for sure, there are no street lights. And it is pitch black at 7.
Coming off the mountain in the dark after a service is an experience everyone should have. Think billions of stars. Stars that can't be seen at home, even in the darkest of places. Last night it was also brewing up a storm so there were flashes of light that showed the silhouette of the mountains for just a second and then it was black again. Beautiful.
I want to paint a picture of what the services are like too. Most gatherings are held in homes made of rock and some kind of cement. The floors are uneven and the chairs are few. Even in this humble place, they make sure to have a decorated table at the front to act as a podium. The table is covered with the nicest table cloth they own and maybe a can or bottle of flowers and tree limbs they found a few hours earlier.
Some leaders own a guitar. Some don't; the only instrument they have is the clapping of their hands which is off beat a good portion of the time. I fit right in. What can I say? I'm a white girl.
They might start off with prayer where everyone prays their own prayers at the same time. This is one of my favorite things.
After that volunteers lead in a song or two and then people are asked if they want to share from the Word, share their testimony, or sing a special. That is then followed by taking an offering and eventually preaching. An invitation is taken and then those who need prayer come to the front and are prayed for.
Often after a service the adults sit around for awhile, drink coffee, eat some sort of sweet bread thing, and chat. I don't know what they are chatting about. Then I get in the four wheel drive truck to make my way down the mountain over a few creeks back to my place.
When I get home I just lay still for a few minutes because I'm so tired of being jolted around by crazy mountain roads. But it's worth it. Way worth it.
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