If you’re seeing multiple blog posts from me all at once, just know it’s not because I suddenly became incredibly disciplined, it’s because I have little to no service at our base in Honduras. So this is me catching you up on life lately!

Honduras has been stretching me in ways I didn’t fully expect. There are moments that feel incredibly purposeful and full of life, and others that feel slow, exhausting, or even frustrating. But in the middle of all of that, I’ve started to notice how meaningful the in-between moments really are.

One of the most impactful parts of our time here has been house visits. We recently met the sweetest elderly woman who rarely, if ever, has visitors. Being with her felt simple on the surface; we talked, we listened, we prayed, and we gave her a Bible, but it was also deeply significant. There was something powerful about showing up for someone who isn’t used to being seen.

These visits have been changing me. I’ve noticed a shift in my confidence when it comes to sharing my faith. In the past, I think I overthought it or worried about saying the “right” thing, but here, I’m learning that sometimes it’s less about having perfect words and more about being present and willing. I’ve come to really love this kind of ministry because it allows me to see people more personally, not just as part of a group we’re serving, but as individuals with stories, struggles, and our own journeys. The Lord has been reminding me so much that He is El Roi (The God who sees) and if my greatest purpose and goal in life is to look like the Father, the only rational response is to see the unseen deeply, and to love them deeply.

Of course, not every moment here is as peaceful as a house visit.

A large portion of our time has also been spent digging holes for a septic system. When I say digging holes, I mean digging what feels like an endless number of them under the hot sun. It’s physically exhausting work, and there have definitely been moments where I’ve questioned how I ended up here, covered in dirt and probably poop, holding a shovel.

But even in that, there’s something fulfilling about working hard alongside people, contributing to something tangible, and learning to embrace a slower, more labor-intensive way of life.

This place is already teaching me that growth doesn’t always look exciting. It often looks like showing up, staying present, and being willing to do both the meaningful and the mundane.