cassandra
A Heart For Honduras
Sep 15, 2008
I am officially home now, but a big piece of me is still in Honduras. I am trying to process all that I saw and heard and felt. My heart is breaking and broken and filled with passion and pain.
I guess I thought that we would be going down to help these poor, brown people find Jesus and get saved and learn to live the "right" way like us. I was going to rescue them from their corrupted lives and their corrupted government and give them polished little boxes of American Christianity.
What I did do was I brought the hungry food, the needy clothing, visited the sick and loved on orphans and children and mommies and daddies and abuelas.
What I received was so much more than a sterile dose of Jesus. The Bible really did come alive to me in so many ways, and I came alive as well. I am more alive than I have been in a very long time. The Lord has put white fire within me. He is consuming me with His Spirit.
My eyes have truly been opened, and the truth I see is hard to look at. People in this world truly do live in the dirt, with nothing. No food, no clothing, with hardly the idea of shelter as we know it in the states. What I can offer them is simply basic need fulfillment.
What they really need is the same thing those of us trapped by the lie of American Christianity need. We need the Kingdom to come. We need it to be established on earth as it is in Heaven. We need King Jesus to take His place on His throne. We need Him to be the King of our lives, the King of our hearts, the King of our world. When that Kingdom is established, there will be no hunger, no want, no need. No more orphans, no mommies and daddies wishing they could feed their babies and put roofs over their heads.
I want to go back to Honduras and stay there forever. I know it's not very practical, but I would never run out of opportunities to serve. There are rows of babies and children in the hospitals, lined up along the walls for chemo, crying in empty plastic cribs with no blankets, there are scads of desperate mommies and daddies who need someone to pray for them and with them. There are homeless people sleeping in the doorways of buildings and hallways of hospitals and over 1000 men women and children (yes CHILDREN) living in cardboard houses in the middle of the dump. People who have known each other there, or women who were raped there, and babies born in the dump, truly trapped in the cycle of poverty with a very dim glimmer of hope leading them to merely survive.
This brings a madness to my heart. I am experiencing an insanity that I pray never goes away. The radical woman I am is beginning to throb with a desire to release these people from the injustice of this world. I feel so small and so insignificant. I truly am a worm, a wisp of smoke in the time-line of the Alpha and the Omega.
My prayer is that the Lord will allow me to press into Him until it's no longer me, but Him that remains. I want to be consumed and combusted by the white fire until I am only the electric blue outline upon Jesus. Put my skin on, Lord, and love them and serve them with my body. Allow me to fade into nothing so all that is seen is YOU. I want to be consumed, to be combusted, to cease to exist. I want to go away and leave only the image of Christ behind. I want to press into Him until it's no longer me but Him only, my life becoming only a tracing that He stands in the midst of. I want to be the shell, the outer container, the vessel that He comes out of and through, piercing the darkness around and inside of me.
He is showing me that Cassandra need to be liberated before she can go setting the captives free. She needs to be real with Him, to find out who she is in Him before she can go around making any real difference in this world of corruption. Without the identity of Christ, no ministry is ever accomplished. Humanitarian acts are
Share
Post comment
Like
