People are always on my case because I know so many bad things. Maybe it is because the first thing I do when I wake up every morning is to read “The Poverty News.” I keep being asked to change the subject. “We are tired of hearing of famines and drought,” they say. But sometimes you have to tell the bad news. I have found that there are so many messengers who only want to talk about the pleasant events. But would you tell people bad news if people really needed to hear it? Or do you avoid the negative simply to circumvent conflicts or pain?

How would you like to always be the one to break the bad news to people? Agabus was that way. Maybe you don’t remember him. It’s probably because we try to forget bearers of bad news. But every time we see in him in the book of Acts, he has bad news.

The first time Agabus tells the bad news is in Acts 11.

27 During this time some prophets came down from Jerusalem to Antioch. 28 One of them, named Agabus, stood up and through the Spirit predicted that a severe famine would spread over the entire Roman world. (This happened during the reign of Claudius.) 29 The disciples, each according to his ability, decided to provide help for the brothers living in Judea. 30 This they did, sending their gift to the elders by Barnabas and Saul. (Acts 11:27-30, NIV).

Some people get to announce the good news of the coming Messiah. Agabus gets to announce a drought. But it is still God’s message. And it is the message of the moment. And God’s message needs to be told whether it is the one you want to tell or not.

The second time we see Agabus is in Acts 21.

10 After we had been there a number of days, a prophet named Agabus came down from Judea. 11 Coming over to us, he took Paul’s belt, tied his own hands and feet with it and said, “The Holy Spirit says, `In this way the Jews of Jerusalem will bind the owner of this belt and will hand him over to the Gentiles.’ 12 When we heard this, we and the people there pleaded with Paul not to go up to Jerusalem. 13 Then Paul answered, “Why are you weeping and breaking my heart? I am ready not only to be bound, but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.” 14 When he would not be dissuaded, we gave up and said, “The Lord’s will be done.” (Acts 21:10-14, NIV).

Ananias gets to tell Paul of the good news of his salvation. Agabus gets to tell Paul the bad news of his arrest. But once again, it is God’s Word.  It must be told. And it is the message of the moment.

God’s Word always leads to good news, but there is often some bad news to be told before the good news occurs. In the case of the famine, God was going to use it to bring healing of bad relationships between Jews and Gentiles. The famine was going to create an opportunity for the Gentiles to give to the poor brethren in Jerusalem. Paul’s arrest was going to eventually take him to Rome where the gospel was going to penetrate the powers of the world with the power of the gospel.

There is nearly always bad news before good news. In fact the bad news makes the good news seem so much better. But will you tell it?

Before there is redemption, the bad news must be told. If you don’t know you are a sinner, you will never understand why you need to be saved.

Before there is restoration, the bad news must be confessed. Unless you confess how you have wronged someone, they will never be able to forgive you.

Before there is revival, the bad news must be declared. Unless corporate sin and misplaced priorities are confessed, the stirring fire of revival never ignites.

Now I know a few people who make it their goal to tell bad news. They are the Eeyores of the church. I don’t think that is your calling. But along the way in putting in a good word for Jesus, you may have to tell the bad news too. When it is your turn to be an Agabus, don’t retreat. Put in the bad word knowing the good is not far behind. God caused some powerfully good things to happen after Agabus told of the famine. He can still do that with famines today.

It’s been hard to get malaria off my mind this week. Since World Malaria Day is tomorrow (April 25th), it has been one of those messages that I have heard over and over again. Malaria bothers me. I’m told nearly 2000 a day die of it. But it is not like AIDS where there is no cure. There was a cure over 100 years ago.

But it got personal with me a few weeks ago. Continue reading →

Bruiser. That’s what Jeremy named him. It was years ago, but I will never forget it. Yes, my youngest son took the money that his grandmother gave him for Christmas and bought a pygmy goat. Why couldn’t he have bought a video game or a CD? No, he bought a goat. And Jeremy loved Bruiser. The problem was that we didn’t live on a farm. We lived in Seattle. And you can’t keep goats in the city. Or at least you are not supposed to do so. Bruiser made too much noise to keep outside. So we had a goat living in our house. I learned a lot about goats living with Bruiser. I learned goats like to climb. Yes, Bruiser wanted to be on the highest spot around him which was usually my head when I was sitting on the couch watching television. I found living with a goat to be quite annoying. While we were in New York City listening to Jeremy sing at Carnegie Hall (just had to throw that in there to qualify myself as a bragging parent), Bruiser died. It was very heartbreaking—especially for Jeremy. But it didn’t really change our lives that much.

When I was in Turkana recently trying to help with the big drought, I found myself among a very nomadic tribe there. If I were to ask them what they do, I would probably get one of two answers. They would say, “I make baskets.” Or they would say, “ I herd goats.” And if I got the second answer and asked, “Where are your goats?”—They would have to tell me that the goats have died. Goats are not annoying to the Turkana people. Goats are their livelihood and give them not only sustenance but also purpose. When their goats die, it changes their lives a lot.

Have you ever heard the story or read the book about Beatrice’s goat in Uganda? The story even made it to “60 Minutes.” The gift of one goat from a non-profit organization not only sustained her family but also allowed Beatrice to realize her dream of attending school and eventually college in the United States. Giving a goat can lead to great things. But for most people who receive a goat in Turkana, it is simply one of the first steps to staying alive.

I got to be the first to pump water on our new well in the desert of Africa. It took us awhile to get the water to flow, but when it finally did we were ecstatic. The people started dancing and jumping for joy (see my previous blog on what to do when you hit water). And in just a few minutes as I was looking at the flowing water, guess what I saw? Yes, a bunch of goats had found the water and were drinking like crazy. It was like a sign from God to me. If we can just get the water here, the goats can live. And the goat herders can herd goats. And families can have milk. And livestock can be bred. And people can start finding some hope in this famine where it hasn’t rained in five years.

And that’s why I love the students at West Texas A & M in Canyon. The Buffaloes are the best. Let me give them a shout-out. In the last four years, these students have coupled a fundraiser called “Give a Goat” with an activity on campus called “Shackathon.” The students all come together in the middle of campus and build houses out of cardboard to show solidarity to the poor people who have to live this way every day. And then they sleep in them. Campus ministries from many kinds of different churches work together and show unity by coordinating this incredible effort. During the process they give their money and raise funds to buy goats. The previous three years they gave over $50,000 to give goats in Sudan. This year the goats are going to Turkana. We don’t have our final tally, but we are already going to give between 200 to 300 goats in this famine area. Goat herders are going to be given a goat! I love this. I love college students who have learned to think globally and then do something about the problems that exist. These students are not only learning about the poverty in this world, but they are also determined to make a difference. If you would like to show solidarity with them, there are still more goats needed there. You can go to CRF’s website at christianrelieffund.org and give a goat.

We have the place to buy them. We have the person ready to purchase them. We have the truck to deliver them. We have the herders ready to receive and raise them. And we even have the water so they can live. Let’s give a goat.

Francis of Assisi said “Preach the Gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.” Or did he? It is a great quote, but there really isn’t much evidence that he truly said it. The statement is an interesting thought, and I might agree with it in a certain context. Certainly, there have been hollow evangelistic words coming from Christians because they didn’t back up their talk with compassionate action. And probably nothing has turned seekers off more than hypocrites who talk about Christ but don’t look much like Him.

But I have heard this statement used lately in contexts to justify not talking to people about Christ. People seem to be saying that they don’t have to say anything because their actions and loving deeds will lead people to the Lord. If we just show enough love in the world, seekers will be moved by our compassion and come to Jesus. In other words, words aren’t necessary.

I don’t think the gospel works that way. Certainly we must be about good acts of justice and compassion. The Bible is clear on that. And we can cite many examples of how good works helped people see the truth. Since I started working for Christian Relief Fund, there is hardly anything I talk about more than the current need for Christians to reach out to the least of this world in concrete acts of mercy. But here is the problem. I now spend most of time helping orphans. As a result, someone might notice me and say that I am doing good stuff with my life. (And it is good to help orphans.) Then they may conclude that I am a Christian by watching me. (And I am.) Then they may make the leap that I am saved. (And I am.) Then it is not a far jump to I am saved because I do good things with orphans. Next they may decide that if they want to be saved and a Christian, they should do similar deeds. It is true that if they want to be a Christian and saved, they should do good things also. (But is that the gospel?)

The problem with this reasoning is that we are saved by grace not our good deeds. If I don’t use words, how will anyone know that my works do not save me? All those works don’t save me. In fact, the message of my life is that I am not good but fallen, and the only way I am saved is because of the good work of Christ. If a person only observed my life, he would never know that I am saved by grace. Grace must be verbalized. You can’t simply observe a life and conclude that someone is saved by grace. You tend to only conclude that they are good or bad, and our works no matter how good they are do not save us. You can only figure out salvation when it is verbalized. Words are necessary.

Peter and John said, “We cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.” Francis actually did say “Let all the brothers, however, preach by their deeds.” I agree with that too–in its context. We do preach by our deeds. But our words are necessary too. Grace must by told. We must put in a good WORD for Jesus.

What do you do when you hit water? What if you were in the middle of a drought where it hadn’t rained in five years? And then miraculously—you got water!

This was the case of some people who lived in the middle of Turkana in the Horn of Africa. It seemed they had no hope. And then CRF brought water to them. What would you do if you were them?

Perhaps you have water and aren’t in a drought. But maybe you are going through a spiritual or emotional famine. And so many times in the darkest hour and at the most helpless moment, you get relief. Someone helps you. God graces you. What do you do?

I now know the proper response when you hit water, and wanted to share it with you. And it is the proper response anytime God gives you water whether physical or spiritual. What do you do? Watch this video.

UPDATE: Since the original posting of this blog one year ago, hundreds of people have given to make sure others have access to clean water.  CRF has been able to drill multiple wells in the Horn of Africa.  And our wells have given access to clean, plentiful water to thousands of famine refugees.

A little over a month ago, I stood in Turkana, Kenya at the dedication of one of these wells… I saw the product of our donors’ sacrifice and I saw joy on every face.  Thank you for giving.  Your support is changing lives and transforming communities.

Here’s a video from Turkana.

Turkana from CRF on Vimeo.

Today is World Water Day. The need for water is still great.  Could you help us bring water to more thirsty people?
You can give for the “Horn of Africa Drought” here.

Continue reading →

As I was riding up a chair lift to ski Mt. Baker in the beautiful Cascade Mountains, my good friend, Curtis Jones, told me that he had some news that he just had to share with someone. He told me that he and his wife Judy were expecting their first child. Progressing up the mountain, we shared the joy of the news and what dreams would come because of this child. Little did I know that I would be telling him the same news in just a few months. And little did I know that I would meet up with his daughter decades later in Honduras.

Curtis and I moved together from Lubbock, Texas to Seattle, Washington to start a campus ministry. He would tell people frequently that the two of us were identical twins since we were both named “Jones.” It was a great joke leaving people greatly puzzled since Curtis was about seven inches taller than me. Curtis died a few years ago but lives in so many of us who do ministry. There was just no one better than Curtis—although his daughter, Meredith, may be pretty close. I guess the moving for ministry just got in the genes of our two families. We moved about 2000 miles to help reach college students for God. But those first two children really outdid us. Patrick, my first, has moved to Jakarta, Indonesia to teach in a Christian school. And Meredith moved to Honduras to work with Mission Lazarus.

We left Tegucigalpa to go to Choluteca. It’s about a 3½-hour drive. The mountains were bigger than any I had seen before in Honduras. They were incredibly tall with windy roads and big valleys. It reminded me of going through the mountains of northern Haiti or maybe even New Mexico. And with a short ride outside of these spectacular mountains, you find yourself going up another hill that leads you past a little lake to some lodges that houses Mission Lazarus. And that is where we saw Meredith standing.

Meredith is a nurse at Mission Lazarus. She helps with the children who are there in the children’s home, the poor in the community and medical brigades in areas where health needs are huge. Mission Lazarus is a holistic ministry that does all kinds of efforts to help with immediate needs and promote sustainability. They help with businesses and agricultural efforts to empower the local people to help themselves. They even raise coffee and cattle. They plant churches. And as I have mentioned, they help with medical needs. How does this relate to CRF? We partner with Mission Lazarus to help children in this area.

In 1998 Hurricane Mitch devastated the area around Choluteca. CRF entered this region to bring relief. We built houses and started meeting the needs of hurting children. Years later we still are there partnering with Mission Lazarus to help meet the physical, educational and spiritual needs of the poorer children in this area. Currently, CRF is helping at 11 different sites in this area.

Yesterday, I got to go with Carlos and a team from Mission Lazarus to witness these areas of relief. Sammie is our CRF leader in this area working to help all of the CRF children. He is a great guy with a heart for children and Jesus. We went all over the mountains to visit four of our 11 works there. All of them had children waiting to greet us (and hug us). We witnessed several moving programs put on by the children. The last place we went was a place called Limon. Ishmael was the minister there who works with Sammie to take care of the children. Actually, some of our other CRF works from other areas joined us in Limon to give their appreciation too. So the last words from the last work I visited came from Ishmael. He couldn’t have been more appreciative. He said, “We didn’t know what to do, and out of nowhere—CRF showed up. It was a miracle.”

Well, I’m going to head back today. It will take a couple of days to get back since there aren’t a lot of flights to Amarillo. But I thank God for the journey. I thank God for my guide, friend, visionary, partner, driver, translator, and faithful brother—Carlos Carbajal. No one can take you through Honduras better than Carlos.

Meredith, your dad is proud of you. I know that I am. All the dreams came true.

Vaya con Dios. Adios.

Today Carlos, Carla and I were headed to Danli. As soon as we told someone where we were going, we were asked to buy some cigars. It seemed like a strange request to me. But I guess Danli is world famous for producing exquisite cigars.

Carlos told me that Danli was one of his very favorite places. I can see why. Honduras is a gorgeous place, and our journey to Danli took us through some of the prettiest parts of it—a region full of majestic  mountains covered with evergreen trees.

Driving into Danli was just breathtaking. It was one of those quaint little towns with a beautiful park in the center of the city backed by a huge white cathedral. It is what you dream that you will see in Central America. It is the stuff of postcards. And the church building where CRF operates was just down the street.

Once again we were greeted with a program. Our Danli work is run by Wilma Ester with much help from her four precious daughters. I have a feeling that she told all the children to wear orange because there was a sea of it. And every child was also given an orange nametag to wear with a name and a big smiley face on it.

As I was giving a challenge to the children about the hope that was before them, I looked and read for the first time what was on the nametag of the little girl in the orange shirt who was seated on the front row. It said “Shahrzad Zarkoob.” Then I saw what Wilma had done. She had not put “Josefa” on her name tag. No she had put her sponsor’s name. So I thought about Shahrzad. I remembered a 19 year old Iranian student who made a dramatic conversion in our campus ministry at the University of Washington and had to get religious asylum to keep from being killed. I remembered Shahrzad becoming an American citizen. I remembered Shahrzad getting her Ph.D. in Physics. I remembered her becoming an executive for NBC at 30 Rockefeller Center in New York City. So in the middle of the talk I told little Josefa about her sponsor and the great things that she had done. And I told her that she could do great things too. I had hope for her. She may be in poverty and without many breaks but her sponsor had gone through tough times too and came out doing great things. The little girl hugged me about a million times before we left.

Then the other children lined up. “Tell me about my sponsor,” they cried. And so I looked on the next name-tag, and it said “Dr. David Jackson and Karen.” And I remembered when I met David at the University of Washington decades ago just like I had with Shahrzad. He was the drum major in the band. He was the smartest guy I had ever met. And he dramatically gave his life to the Lord. He became a doctor. He became my doctor. I remember Karen and her coming to Jesus. I recall the way she gave her life to becoming an exceptional teacher. So I told little Gladis that she could be like her sponsors. I told her that she could be a doctor. She could be a teacher. I had hopes for her just like I saw David and Karen do great things.

And I just had to smile and thank God. It was like being in a time warp. What had happened three decades ago was living dynamically in the present. What happened thousands of miles away in a different country had transcended into Central America for God’s glory and to change the lives of children.

If you don’t know what I do, let me tell you a little about it. I speak at churches any place that I can and ask people to sponsor orphans through CRF. I have a table with pictures of children from all over the world. They are real children. They are needy children. And every place I go, the greatest people on earth sign up and start sponsoring a child. I do this now as president of CRF. But I started doing it decades ago as a volunteer. And as these little kids of Honduras lined up asking me to tell them about their sponsors, I couldn’t believe how many of them I knew. One was from a church in Oregon. Another from a campus ministry in Oklahoma. Another from a seminar in Washington. The next one was from a friend in California.

I could remember so many of the faces of the sponsors on the days that they had signed up. But now I was seeing the other side. I was seeing the children that they had saved. I so wished that the sponsors could have seen their faces. The children loved them so much. I wish I had known every story to tell them. (If you have a child, let them know who you are and what you look like. They love you so much, and you are so important to them.) And it was one of those great moments in a lifetime—faces on both sides of sponsorship were being connected in my mind. I love all of you who are sponsors. I’m thanking God for you right now. I wish you could have been there to see how important you are. You are the difference.

And then I got more hugs. I think it is a theme.

From Danli, we drove to our work in La Cienega. It was not a quaint village but out in the middle of the country. It was a difficult drive. We wondered if we would make it. But we did. Our work there is run by Herman. It is another great work that is touching the lives of rural children in poverty. One kid just kept following me around. I asked him his name (I remember how to do that from high school Spanish). He said, “Emmanuel.” I could really run with this, but you can draw the same conclusions I would.

After the program (yes, we do programs)–Herman took us to show one of the children’s homes. She was a teenager named Mimi, although she looked years younger. We saw her little house. It had no electricity or water. We heard her sad story of how her mother had left. And her dad had epilepsy and couldn’t work. Mimi had to take care of the house. I was extremely impressed with how clean it was. As we looked around the house, Carlos asked me if I noticed what was missing. Then I saw it. There was no food. Her family had no food. When she saw that we noticed, tears welled up in her eyes. She didn’t want us to know. She didn’t want to ask for anything. We gave anyway. A smile was across her face as she waved goodbye to us.

It was a long journey for me. And maybe you are wondering if I had one of the delicacies of Danli. Close but no cigar.

Wow, morning comes early in Honduras. Is there a 5 a.m. in North America?

Well, we started our early trip to Catacamas. Being a little concerned about the trip, I asked how long it would take us to get there. Larry Wu responded that it would take three hours. And then he said, “What can go wrong in three hours?”

I asked Larry if he had ever seen “Gilligan’s Island.”

Our crew of Carlos Carbajal, Larry Wu, Esteban Valle, and his friend Christian made it there in a little over three hours without a single shipwreck. We were greeted with applause and thunderous singing as we entered the Villa Verde church and saw hundreds of CRF children filling the pews.

It wasn’t long before Alex started preaching. And it was quite a sermon too. He preached from Isaiah 58. I wondered why he was preaching. And then I got it. Alex was a CRF child sponsored for over 12 years and now is the preacher of this church. It was a powerful sermon until his audience briefly left him as one kid carried in a piñata. We took care of that deal later. I think some of our children there should go for the major leagues the way they swing a bat.

But it is hard to get the grasp of CRF in Catacamas without seeing it through the eyes of Saulo Mondragon. In fact it is hard to even imagine CRF or the city of Catacamas without thinking of the incredible care for children and the love of the lost that the whole Mondragon family has extended for over three decades. But now Saulo is at the wheel and keeping CRF moving in this city. Saulo has extreme enthusiasm for God and CRF. And he can weave a story like nobody else. He tells stories of changed lives and restored hope that takes place through CRF and its orphanage called appropriately—“New Hope.”

At the church building, Saulo brought to me a young mother and her newborn child. This mom couldn’t stop crying for joy because of the assistance she had received from CRF. It was the difference in her life. And she wanted to make sure every one knew about it. And then Saulo introduced me to a special guest, Celeste Melendes. Celeste is very special in our family because Barbie’s mother, Eula Perkins, sponsors Celeste and has for years. Celeste was beautiful, thankful and a joy to be around.

And then it happened again. More hugs. And more hugs. And then more hugs. These children couldn’t quit hugging. I thought that maybe it was Honduras. Or maybe it was CRF. Or maybe it was me. But my sore body (read yesterday’s blog) was a lot sorer after two days of hundreds and hundreds of hugs. But what a way to go!

Oh I forgot that the two heads of the best private secondary school in town showed up at the ceremony. They asked me to sign a paper stating that all of our CRF children could go to their school for a hugely discounted price. I couldn’t see anything wrong with that!

When I got to New Hope, Saulo had even more stories for me. He introduced me to Freddie Lopez. Freddie is an executive of one of the largest and most successful corporations in town. But he was there to say that he was a CRF child for over a decade, and he was thankful for it. He said that he wanted me to understand that the greatest benefit of CRF was not the money that came from the sponsor. He appreciated the financial support, but there was something much greater for him than the money. He said what made the difference in his life was that there was someone out there, a sponsor, who believed in him and invested in him. He told me this is what made him have enough confidence to make it in life. Freddie not only is a great businessman but has also earned a Masters degree in economics. Freddie has paid back the support he received from CRF over and over again as he has invested in other children.

Then there were the twins. Saulo was very proud of them. They are very young—not quite toddlers. He was hoping that I would get them sponsors. They were beautiful little boys named Stephen and Antonio. Saulo told me the sad day when their mother came to him begging him to take her children. Of course, Saulo wanted to keep the kids with their mother. But after checking on them, he found them living on a porch behind a house. The twins were eating dirt and worse as their food. She had no way to take care of her children. Today, there is new hope at New Hope. The children are happy and healthy. Surely someone will sponsor two children this cute.

And then there was the beautiful girl, Sindy, whom I met at the church building and later saw again at New Hope. She looked like the happiest and most blessed person on earth. She had just graduated from high school. For all the help she had received, she awarded her diploma to CRF and the church. And now she was the first of our CRF children to be accepted to the prestigious university there. If she can get someone to give her a scholarship, she will go there too. But it wasn’t an easy road getting to this point. Her father abandoned her. Her mom was full of substance abuse. And one day Sindy found herself outside the gate of New Hope hoping to get inside. And with the Mondragons, she found a life—until one day a family member came back to try to take her away. She was told that she needed to be in a cultic group that tattooed “666” on their upper arm. Saulo went to court and saved her. She now is in the custody of CRF. But she has always been in the arms of God. With another break, I think Sindy is going to be a world changer. The possibilities are grand when a child is given some care and a lot of love.

And then I had a dinner of dinners served with watermelon juice. Marisol is Saulo’s wife. And she can cook and a lot of it too. She fixed me a delicacy that is only served in this place. She is a gourmet cook. It was scrumptious. But Larry Wu made me promise to never ask what I just ate. This scares me a little.

Catacamas tried to make me feel important. It’s always nice when people treat you better than you deserve (I think we call that grace). When I arrived at Catacamas, I was met by a television reporter for an interview. It was nice to tell the area what CRF was all about. Then the mayor came to see me with a delegation at New Hope. He thanked me for all the good work that comes from CRF. Then he gave us land to build five houses for the poor on it. Saulo told me to ask for more. So I did. I asked for ten acres more so we could expand our work in helping children. He said, “Yes!” I’m going to get it in writing. Then he said something the reporter had mentioned in his interview. It had to do with two presidents being in town. Then I figured it out. He was talking about me. And he was talking about the other President whom he had just left to come over and thank me. Yes, it actually was the President of Honduras. I’m glad the mayor talked to him first.

Catacamas is an unique CRF work. In Catacamas, CRF has not only changed the lives of children but also the city itself. Saulo drove me around the city and showed me 18 churches his dad and CRF had planted. He talked of short-term mission trips where Americans had come to not only change this city but also to be changed by this city. There is even a section of Catacamas called “CRF City.” But ultimately the work here is known by the entire region as a place of refuge and help. It’s exactly what Alex preached about when he read Isaiah 58:6-8. Alex and Saulo left me with a beautiful certificate of honor. And it had this very passage on it.

6 “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: 
to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, 
to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? 
7 Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter— 
when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? 
8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; 
then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.

Spotless. I can’t think of anything better in the world at this moment. I probably should be thinking of a spiritual condition, but I’m not. I have been in some pretty dirty houses in Honduras, but that is not my gripe. No, I have red spots all over my body. Barbie thought I had the measles right before I came to Honduras. A few hours before I left for Central America, I had a doctor look at me to make sure I wasn’t going to infect a bunch of children with some strange disease that I picked up in Africa. He gave me permission to go, but these little bumps keep getting bigger and spreading all over me. And they have begun to hurt too. So when I went to our CRF work today in Tegucigalpa, I wasn’t nearly as thrilled as I would normally be that this work had the huggiest children on the planet. They hug you. Then they hug you. And then they hug you again. So I’m a pretty sore traveler at the moment. And I just want to be spotless.

Adela Mancado does an exceptional job of running the CRF program in Tegucigalpa. But its history is really a history of a bunch of children who have been loved and taken care of by the Mancado family. That may not seem like such a big deal until you realize that they take care of over 300 children.

Before I got to see all the children, a team of us delivered food to 25 houses. This was no easy task. Yes, these houses were at the bottom of a steep cliff. I thought everyone was giving me a hard time when they started down the rock face to get to these people who really didn’t have much at all (much less a good location). Repelling should have been a requirement to deliver these supplies.  I thought my heart was going to give out before my spots killed me. But wow, the recipients were grateful.  Adela wanted me to present the food from CRF. I don’t speak Spanish very well (you might say at all), but you don’t have to say much to communicate when you have food in your hand. They were all needy, but I will never forget the mother who was holding a two-week old baby. Her husband had already abandoned her. How was she going to make it? I don’t know. Food didn’t seem to be enough, but she seemed to give a pretty genuine smile and “gracias.” May the good Lord grace her.

After giving out food for so long in the hot weather, my hosts wanted to reward us with some authentic Honduran food (although some told me that it originated in El Salvador). We ate Pupusas. And they were pretty good, and I have to admit it. My pupusa was like a tortilla filled with pork and cheese. It was a stretch for my boring diet, but I did get to eat breakfast at Dunkin Donuts–and their Bavarian Crème donut is pretty good too.

Of course all the CRF children had a program for us. CRF is good at programs. And it was a good program. It was filled with traditional dance. Some women and girls even performed “La Punta” which is the special dance of Honduras. I was told how fortunate I was to witness it. And then it happened. I should have seen it coming. The women came and grabbed me and dragged me to the front to dance with them. This is the second time this has happened to me in the last few weeks. It happened with the women in Turkana, Africa and now in Honduras. Please don’t tell Barbie. I don’t want her to get upset that women all over the world want to dance with me. She will probably make me take dance lessons when I get home. At the end of the dance, I got to meet Sisi, who was selected from our kids to be the President of Honduras for a day. She is so smart and such a leader that she was the one chosen. And then I got to meet the CRF child of the year, Christopher. He had achieved the greatest merits of all of our children and won this award. I even got a framed picture of him.

Our evening was spent with a “thank you” dinner. CRF graduates came back to give their testimonies of the great help of CRF in their past and how they are doing now. It was kind of like a graduation. It was a rite of passage in a way. And it was all over a Chinese dinner (that’s what they wanted—and it wasn’t bad for Honduras).

Our children were now teachers, professors, ministers, engineers, mothers and many other notable professions. I was told that Daniel graduated number one in a high school of over 5000 students. Many told me that he was the smartest man they had ever met. And their stories moved you to tears. Luis said that when CRF showed up in his life, it was not a rain of blessings but a full storm of blessings. Junior said that CRF was always there when he had nothing else. These children grew up well.

Larry Wu said they should pay for the meal instead of me since they were now so successful. But I paid and was glad to do so. What a blessing!

It was ironic, just as our group was walking out; some gang members were walking in. What juxtaposition! Makes me want to preach.

I was a little upset that not one of the children had become a doctor yet. I could use more help with these spots. But in reality, I get to try a new medicine in two days. Maybe it will work. I’m a bit tired. And we start at 5 in the morning here. I’m praying that I will wake up spotless tomorrow.