EASTER...What is it anyway?

What is Easter anyway? I know what you’re thinking. ‘Oh boy,Charlene, you’ve really bitten off more than you can chew this time!’ You are so right. Easter is way too vast a subject for a little blogger like me to tackle… but I just can’t help myself. It’s my blog and I’ll blog if I want to! Ha.

Okay… let’s start with the easy stuff. There’s the Easter Bunny, Easter eggs, Easter baskets, Easter candy, Easter egg hunts, Chocolate Bunnies, Peeps, Jelly Beans, Easter bonnets, Easter outfits, and Easter shoes. (Yes…you can bring out those white shoes again.)

Oh but there is so much more….

It might be possible to study for a lifetime and never read everything that has been written on the spiritual significance of Easter to the Christian faith. Suffice it to say that, in a nutshell, Easter is the single most important celebration for followers of Jesus Christ. Why? Because everything that we Christians believe, trust and hope for hinges on the historic event of Jesus Christ having been raised from the dead.  If the resurrection didn’t happen, even Paul said that we should be pitied above all men! (I Corinthians15:19)

You might think it’s all poppycock, and you are free to do so. But if so, I have to think that there have been times when God has caused you to see his resurrection power and glory when you were just looking around.

Spring is that incredible time of the year when we witness resurrection all around us. The gray skies, brown grass, bare trees, cold, hard, unfriendly ground, and damp, dreary days are replaced with sunshine, blue skies, leafy, shade-trees, green grass, beautiful flowers, birds nesting and singing, and animals playing. It is mesmerizing to me, actually. I can’t get enough of it!

I don’t know how these glorious bursts of life can be witnessed without giving honor and praise to our creator. When I sit and observe the majesty of nature all around me I am compelled to worship the Creator and sustainer of life. And when I think of how gracious He is to us – even painting us a clear picture of the hope of resurrection through His creation, my faith is multiplied.

Just in case you want to study about the resurrection of Jesus Christ for yourself, there is a really good book out there by Lee Strobel called, The Case for the Resurrection: A First-Century Investigative Reporter Probes History's Pivotal Event. FYI, Lee Strobel was an atheist that set out to prove that this resurrection stuff was nonsense. The good news is that as you read his book, you also learn a lot about what the Bible has to say on the subject.

Happy Easter everyone! 

He is risen!!!

Light in the Darkness

Last week, as surreal as it seems at this moment, I was in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. ‘Why?’, my mother asked me before I left and after I returned. I have given that question some thought, and hope that penning these words will help me find and then share the answer. 

My instinctive answer, which will satisfy some but not all of you, is that God told me to go.  But that sort of implies that I am this über obedient child of God who always hears his voice and follows his lead. Well if you know me at all you know that I don’t suffer from excessive self-discipline. The truth is that I have been doing some praying lately asking the Lord to help me do better, because I have been too busy and preoccupied to spend much time with him. What I needed was a big intravenous bolus of Jesus, and he decided to send me to Honduras to get it. 

One of the things that I love about our Creator is his capacity for irony. He loves to shake things up, to use his power through our weakness, to show his love to the unlovable, to give grace to those who least deserve it... that sort of thing. Well, leave it to him to take me to one of the darkest places on the planet in order to lead me back into the light.

Tegucigalpa is the capital of Honduras, and Wikipedia calls it, ‘the murder capital of the world.’ It is a very dark place where people who can afford it live behind walls, have razor sharp wire on their balconies and bars on their windows. Many many people, however, can’t afford a home with windows or balconies. The poverty is overwhelming, and the fear is palpable. Children without parents live on the streets and sniff yellow glue to numb their hunger for food, security and love. They join gangs to try to belong to something, as awful as that something is. The girls and boys are sold into prostitution or child pornography rings, and it’s big business. The drug lords are more powerful than anyone wants to admit, but everyone knows the truth. Many people are desperate and the violence is off the charts.

(My iPhone, which is worth three months wages in Tegucigalpa, was stolen the first day, so I will upload more photos once I receive them from the rest of the team.)

Como se dice...?

Daniela and I reading a urinalysis

There are around 10,000 various humanitarian organizations listed with the Honduran government who come to try to help. I was with some folks from St. Philip’s Church (downtown Charleston) and folks from a Methodist church in Greenwood. We were considered a ‘medical brigade.’ and were led by Dr. Ken Holden and his wife, Pat, who have been making these trips for over twenty  years. We were not alone, as when we pulled our nineteen trunks full of medications and medical supplies off the airport baggage claim belt, we had to be careful not to accidentally grab one from one of the other groups who arrived at the same time. We had four doctors and one nurse (me), plus six other souls who wanted to serve the precious people of Honduras. We were careful to follow the many rules which were in place for our safety. We worked hard, as we operated our traveling medical clinic in various places, stocking our supplies at night and seeing as many patients as possible each day. We served alongside some Christian Honduran physicians and medical students, who worked double-duty as translators. All in all we treated over 1000 patients in seven days. I was the ‘pharmacist’, and thankfully had some really good people on my little team to help me. Suzanne, Daniella, Amanda and I did our best to see that every single person received vitamins, medicine for parasites, a toothbrush, and whatever medications were prescribed for them. 

 Outside the clinic at Flor de Campo

To be brutally honest, had the Lord not been with us, we might have become overwhelmed by negative emotions such as sadness, feelings of helplessness, hopelessness, frustration, and even anger at the sight of such poverty and need. But we were encouraged to find a mysterious kind of joy, pockets of love, humbling hope, and beams of light in the eyes and hearts of those we were serving. And with each passing day I softened. It was as if someone or something was chiseling away at my heart of stone to uncover the heart of flesh that was apparently connected to my tear ducts. 

I was moved by the vision and hard work that had lovingly provided a high-roofed gymnasium carved out of the rock of the mountain...an open air playground that was safe from the dangers below and overlooked some of the poorest and violent parts of the city. Amanda Scott, a missionary with the Lamb Institute told me that the preschoolers sang praise songs to God up there and she imagined those little voices washing the community below. (I cried a little too. It’s okay.) I was touched by the passion of those who have given up the conveniences of life in the States to be full time missionaries... like Suzy McCall who started the Lamb Institute preschool and has since opened a beautiful orphanage out in the country up on a hill where the children can go to school, run and play, and grow up in the love of Christ and safety of their ‘Tias’. I was encouraged by the story of beautiful Betsy Hake, a gracious lady whose doctors told her that she would surely die of her liver cancer, but instead years later continues to run Jericho, a ministry to women of the street (prostitutes) and their children. (Her Manhattan doctor is a believer now.) I was inspired by the generosity and compassion that Dr. Rena Duron shows as she constantly looks for new and creative ways to serve the poor by providing them with medical care. I was touched by the gratefulness that overflowed from the hearts of those we served... the hugs, and smiles, and the hundreds of times I heard, ‘Gracias’, and ‘Dios te Bendiga.’ (God bless you)

Sweet visit with Jeremy 

Towards the end of the week I received a wonderful surprise, when one of Sean’s soccer buddies from Wheaton College came to see me. Jeremy Tolleson is starting his fourth year as a missionary in Tegucigalpa with the Micah Project, a ministry that reaches out to street boys and offers them a safe and loving place to live and be free from the addictions of their pasts. We were able to spend a couple of hours catching up. So cool. 

One of the most memorable events of the week happened when we had driven far from the city out to Proyecto Victoria, a ministry started in 1977 by Cuban-American pastor Mario Fumero. The purpose of the ministry is to help gang members get out of the life of gangs, violence and drugs. Last Thursday Pastor Fumero invited people from the surrounding community to come receive our medical care. During our frenzied day of treating over 200 patients, most of whom had walked for miles to get to us,  I was asked to take my pharmacist hat off and put my nursing cap on to debride a wound. The patient was an 89 year-old man whose foot was severely infected.  (About the same age my father would be if he were still with us) I was excited to get to do some real nursing, but I was concerned about the amount of pain my patient would experience. Desperately wanting to do something to alleviate the pain, I asked one of the dental team members if I could have some lidocaine, which I tried to use topically. (Yes, we had a dental team with us for two days. Awesome.) The debridement process was long and arduous, but my little man was a champion. One of the staff members prayed for him, as did I with tears in my eyes, and suddenly the Lord reminded me of the Last Supper when he washed the feet of his disciples. At that moment I felt that my prayers were being answered... through this little man with a bum foot... out in the middle of nowhere in Honduras. Truly... washing that man’s foot was not  just something I was doing for him but it was something that God was doing for me. 

Oh...and those ten strangers? Ken, Pat, Jimmy, Kathy, Katherine, Doug, Suzanne, Kit, Steve, and Paddy... each one brought special gifts and talents and it was a beautiful thing to watch the team work together in unity. We shared a powerful and unique experience, I learned from each and every one of them, and they will always have a special place in my heart. 

Gracias, Señor, y Dios los bendiga a todos ustedes.

Charlene

ps: I found this article for those of you who want a more graphic description of the violence in Honduras so you can know how to pray.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/12/31/violence-in-honduras-ap-c_n_2389053.html

3/23/13: This article was just sent to me today. It tells the story about the lady behind the LAMB institute: Suzy McCall. So inspiring.

http://magazine.cofc.edu/2013/03/15/suzy-mccall/