Finding My 'Why' in Honduras

I didn’t expect my Honduras mission trip to start with a twelve-hour layover in El Salvador.

Like most of our team from Oklahoma and Texas, I was affected by the DFW flight outage on September 19th. While many made it through relatively on time, my situation required a complete rebook. On September 20th, I found myself boarding a flight with a long 12-hour layover in El Salvador, then a final connection to Honduras on September 21st. After booking my flights, I honestly started praying: Lord, why? Do you have conversations for me here? My mind was racing with questions about God’s timing and purpose. Are you testing me? Is it the enemy trying to stop me? Whatever the reason, I was determined to go.

What I didn’t realize at 5 a.m. on September 21st was that my return flight had been booked for that same day—the day I was supposed to arrive. I should have panicked. I should have been anxious. Instead, I felt a strange calm settle over me. I rescheduled my return flights and finally landed in Honduras, met my team, and reached our destination.

What I was walking into, I didn’t yet understand. But looking back now, I see that God was already at work—even before my feet touched Honduran soil.

Monday, September 22nd #

I had been praying for weeks—honestly, for much longer than that—to witness one salvation. I kept asking God to show me His power in a tangible way. The obstacles leading up to this trip felt real. Whether the enemy was trying to stop me or God was testing my faith, I didn’t know. Either way, I kept moving forward.

On Monday morning, I headed out with Allen, our driver and mission partner from Honduras; Mandy, a missionary from Houston who has been serving this community for the past two and a half years; and Ceci Hernandez, a Spanish-speaking team member. We were about to hit doors in the village with nothing but the gospel and open hearts.

What happened that day still moves me.

The first family we visited, the moment we began sharing about grace and forgiveness, I watched the mother’s tears start to fall. It was like watching God work in real time—convicting hearts, drawing people near to Him. This pattern continued throughout the day. We shared the gospel with about eight families, and in nearly every home, we witnessed the same thing: tears, conviction, God’s Spirit moving in ways we couldn’t orchestrate.

We met a mother who had been wrestling with doubt. She was questioning whether God was real because of what she was going through with her son. When she shared her story, something in me recognized it immediately. I had my own season with Trevor—my own wrestling match with God about the same kind of pain. I was able to sit with her in that doubt and share how God had shown up for me. It wasn’t a perfect answer. It was just real.

Then we met a father who had made decisions that put his daughters in danger. But Mandy—this woman who has given two and a half years of her life to this community—she connected her own story to his in a way that felt like a divine appointment. None of us had planned to be at that home. None of us had planned what we would say. It was purely Spirit-led.

The Moment Everything Changed #

As the day was winding down, we approached one more home. Children led us to their home. A mother answered the door, and we began sharing the gospel with her. And then it happened: she accepted Jesus as her Savior.

I witnessed my first salvation. I watched someone give their life to Christ.

I can’t fully describe what that felt like—the weight of it, the joy of it, the holiness of that moment. This is what I had been praying for. This is the “why” I traveled through delays and layovers for. This is why I kept moving when things felt uncertain.

But here’s what struck me most as I reflected on that day: It wasn’t just about that one decision. It was about the faithfulness of these people.

We had spent 4 days in a village visiting homes where families are making roughly ten dollars a day. That’s their reality. And yet, as they opened their doors and let us into their homes, they spoke of God with such conviction, such certainty, such joy. They are facing real hardship—the kind that tempts us all to question whether God is good—and yet they confess without hesitation: God is everything.

That faithfulness in the midst of poverty and struggle? That became my real “why.”

Seeds, Water, and Fruit #

Jesus told us that we don’t always know where we are in the kingdom work. Sometimes we’re planting seeds. Sometimes we’re watering. And sometimes—if we’re blessed—we get to see the fruit.

On September 22nd, I got to see the fruit. But I also learned that all of it matters. The delays, the obstacles, the conversations with people, the doors that open to receive the gospel—it’s all part of something bigger than what we can see in the moment.

As I’ve reflected on my time in Honduras, I’m challenged by the faithfulness of people who have so little materially but so much spiritually. They’ve reminded me what it looks like to truly say that God is everything—not just with our words, but with our whole lives.

That’s the story I’m bringing home. That’s the lesson my heart won’t let go of.