Our first full day in Honduras was Sunday. We were at church at Emanual Baptist at 9:30. It was completely surrounded by gates and barbed wire over the top.
2 weeks prior to our visit, our missionary friend was held at gunpoint there during a church meeting.
They hadn't locked the gate and a man came in asking for money and jewelry. Mark put his hands in his pocket to get money and they thought he might have a gun so they pointed it as his head. They escaped with money and some jewelry. It was a meeting of teachers so no children were there at the time. In Honduras, there is no need to call the police, however, because they don't help with crime. Most of the police there, we are told, are corrupt so crime, for the most part, goes unpunished.
They started the service with praise the worship. About 1/2 the songs we knew and tried to sing along in Spanish. The rest of the songs, we just smiled and did our best. Our friend, Mark preached that morning as his pastor was in the US that week. It was his 2nd time preaching without a translator (which was unfortunate for me as I didn't understand too much.) I told him over lunch that he wasn't a very good preacher because I had a hard time following and understanding him. He laughed.2 weeks prior to our visit, our missionary friend was held at gunpoint there during a church meeting.
They hadn't locked the gate and a man came in asking for money and jewelry. Mark put his hands in his pocket to get money and they thought he might have a gun so they pointed it as his head. They escaped with money and some jewelry. It was a meeting of teachers so no children were there at the time. In Honduras, there is no need to call the police, however, because they don't help with crime. Most of the police there, we are told, are corrupt so crime, for the most part, goes unpunished.
During the sermon, we watched 3 little sisters in the row in front of us picking lice out of each other's hair. That was, um, interesting.
Sunday morning service. There were very few men there. In fact, our whole trip, we met very few Honduran families that had both a mom and a dad. Marriage and being faithful is not a strong part of Honduran culture.
We returned to church at 5pm for the Sunday evening service. Instead of sitting through another sermon that I didn't understand, I went to the preschool class with Christy. She spoke in Spanish but used Flannelgraph, so I understood. Haha. I told her husband later that he should use flannelgraph on Sunday mornings---we might understand it better.
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