The Musings of a Missionary Jan. 2018

Having lived here in Honduras for the past five years, I have experienced many things for the first time in my almost sixty years of life.

            For example: Eating tripe soup (Truth: did not actually eat, only tasted it. When I saw the ‘beef’ was white, I knew something was up.)          

            Monday of this week, I scored another ‘first’, an auto accident. (Truth: Not my first auto accident but my first one here in HN that I did not feel I played a part in occurring.) Had my left turn signal on to turn left into our hometown and a car decided to pass me on the left as I was turning and hit me in the front bumper.  Thankfully no one was hurt but the car that belongs to the Foundation for whom I serve was damaged.  In that we pay for auto insurance unlike most Hondurans, I made a call to the insurance company and was told to call the police; not to move my car or allow the other vehicle to be moved; and to wait until the lawyer representing the insurance company could arrive to assess the situation. Oh, did I mention, it was going to take her 2 hours to get to the sight of the accident? As I had our 5-year-old in the car, I called our staff to come in a taxi to take him home for lunch.  He did not need to sit with me on the side of a very dangerous highway.  When the police finally arrived after 40 minutes, it was a National Police truck with two uniformed officers and 6 military personnel with AK- somethings in their arms. The other driver declared that he never saw my signal and passed me because I was going so slowly. Well, I was about to turn, so slowing down seemed appropriate to me. As we waited for the transit police and the lawyer to arrive, I noticed that I was the only woman and as a foreigner (read: gringa), standing amongst all these men.  For a split second, I thought, “Maybe I am safer waiting in my car.” Before I could get in my car, however, a local restaurateur who is bilingual pulled up to ask if I needed help.  When I explained the situation, he stated that the best thing I could do was wait and gave me his number ‘just in case’.  As he pulled off, another bilingual friend who had gotten a call about my situation pulled up and stated he would stay with me while we waited.

            Little did I realize how helpful he would be when the transit police officer arrived and I had to fill out a form describing the accident. (Truth:  I have learned a good bit of Spanish in the last five years but I do little writing without a computer to check my spelling). He helped me spell the Spanish words that I was unsure of and helped me understand all of the insurance lawyer instructions.

            When all the paper work was completed, we all departed to meet again at traffic court on Wednesday.  As I tried to drive the vehicle, I realized that there was much more damage than was recognized.  I drove about 50 meters; stopped and called the lawyer to make her aware that the tires would not go in the same direction. She stated that she would add “direcciones” to the report.  I tried to drive another 50 meters before realizing that it was too dangerous for me to proceed.  I called my friend to return to help me decide what to do.  With his assistance, the lawyer was contacted again, a tow truck ordered to pick up my car to take into the city (read: another 2 hours wait); and he gave me a ride home; picked me up when the tow truck arrived and then brought me back home. All in all, a 4–5-hour ordeal that is only the beginning of the process that continues when I go to traffic court tomorrow – another first. Fortunately, my bilingual friend can accompany me.

            Last night, I realized I had received a text from an acquaintance that had seen me on the side of the road with the police, asking if all was well. As I lay down from the exhausting day to sleep, I thought of how lonely and vulnerable I had felt for a split second. Then I reflected on how God sent me friends to help; to support me; to uphold me; and to guide me.  I pictured my car up on the tow truck and realized that I am just like that car. Truth: Jesus hauls me around on His back just like He carried the cross that bore my sins.

            “You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.” Psalm 139:1-6

            Wow, and today when my spare car would not start after picking up my child from kinder, he sent another friend to jump my car!

            TRUTH: If Jesus is your Savior as He is mine, we are NEVER alone!

I am grateful to those who were led to assist me and were willing to do so. The life of a foreign missionary is challenging but God always proves Himself faithful to me, as I have been obedient to His call for my life.  I remain grateful for His call and His faithfulness.

Roxanne

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Are you a faithful person? Oct. 2020

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A Week of Celebration and yet…..Sep. 2017