Can You Hear God Singing?™ Zephaniah 3:17: My Mission Lazarus Story: Day 2

Day 2, Sunday, June 6. After catching up on the previous night’s lost sleep by going to bed at 7:30 p.m. and hearing Tommy state that he was setting his alarm for 5 or 5:30 a.m., I mistakenly correlated Ron’s phone “ringing” at 4 a.m. with Tommy’s alarm for later. Without looking at my watch, I arose quietly and went to shower. Upon returning to my bed and discovering it was only 4:15 a.m., I went back to my pillow. I got up about 5 a.m., dressed, and exited the cabin to enjoy the cool breeze and sunrise.

I walked up to Ron’s rock to take some photos then sat in a rocker by the fireplace and read my Power for Today devo I had brought for morning meditation. Breakfast was French toast, bacon, and fresh pineapple.

We went to Choluteca for worship with the local Hispanic congregation and “Taco.” We also met the interns there that morning.

The singing was amazing! It was truly a time of praising God form the heart with passion and enthusiasm. The local song leader would lead the congregation in a contemporary praise and worship song in Spanish and then I led the English speakers in the same song. For the offering we went to the front and deposited our contribution in the plate. Allen helped preside over that and the Lord Supper. Some of our young men helped pass the communion emblems with the cup immediately following the bread. Then came the surprise. We had a 30 minute time of fellowship in which we shared Pepsi and sandwiches and talked. Then came the preaching service with Randy delivering an “inspired” message and Taco translating. Some of Randy’s wit and humor was lost on all but the Americans.

We went to the coastal beach and ate lunch at a fish shack on the ocean in sight of several other Central American countries to the north and south. I enjoyed the fried coconut and even the whole fish that glared back at me through glassy eyes.

Next we visited one of several Mission Lazarus medical clinics. As with everywhere we went, the children flocked to us. At this clinic an “every man for himself” soccer “game” broke out. This was a literal “warm-up” for the real game between the Hispanic Christians and the American Christians (us and the interns) on an “enclosed” field about the size of that used for indoor soccer. I believe some of our “older” players would not have survived if the match had been on a regulation-size field. Sweating was the order of the say – even among those of us who only stood and cheered.