Sons and daughters and nothing less.

What if I told you that Satan is absolutely terrified of you?

What if every time he looks at you he sees God’s fingerprints all over you and he can’t help but to scream in anger?

What if your face haunts his nightmares simply because He recognizes the sheer amount of power and authority that is within your reach if only you would fully step into your identity as a son or daughter of the King?

How would you stop an army of young people, filled with the Spirit, and hungry to see the gates of hell torn open and captives walking free in the streets?

What would you do if you were in his shoes?

The more I have looked at my own life, the more I have begun to realize that one of Satan’s greatest strategies is to convince us that we are something other than what God created us to be.

That sounds far to simple to be an effective battle plan… right?

God fashioned each of us with particular strengths and gifts that are meant to advance His Kingdom. So when Satan sees someone beginning to exhibit a gift, he loads them down with so many false insecurities that they are blinded to their own strengths and can never step into their true kingdom  identities.

What we perceive as our greatest weaknesses, God often sees as our greatest strengths.

We can be guilty of letting Satan tell us who we arn’t and not allowing our Heavenly father to tell us who we are in Him.

As for me, I have constantly struggled with feeling adequate in the academic world. God has called me towards a life serving His children as a doctor in overseas medical missions. (Which means about 12 more years in academia.) Yet I wake up every day and have to fight against new lies in my life telling me that I am not smart enough, or not motivated enough, or just simply not called into medicine.

Which is quite the opposite of what my Father has told me.

The thought of me using modern medicine and the power of Jesus to heal people absolutely terrifies Satan.

He hates that a group of college students would dare to  spread the love of God all summer long  in one of his darkest strongholds.

So he attacks us relentlessly with thoughts of inadequacy and fears of failure. Because that is all he has to hurl at us.

This is the reality we live in. There is a war going on around us. There are casualties. There is pain and continual suffering. There are fresh new soldiers stepping onto the battlefield for the first time.

I only have 5  days left until I dive headfirst into whatever God has for me this summer.

• Pray that the love of God would be real, and fresh, and undeniable in my thoughts and actions.
• That I would be able to discern all the lies that Satan tries to snare me with.
• That I would step deeper into my true identity as a son of the living God.

Thank you and bless you all!

PS:   This is the address that I will be using all summer. Feel free to send letters to it.

P.O. Box 80322, 8000 Davao City, Philippines

What lies at the end of the railroad tracks?

A fresh retelling of the greatest story that mankind has ever found itself woven into.

Let life’s worries and pointless strivings cease to invade your mind.

Soak up the truth this video portrays.

And simply allow this story to breath life into a familiar, old  set of beliefs  that we have allowed to gather dust in the corner of our mind for far to long.

A life changing revelation known as the Gospel.

 

Ponderings From The Art Loeb Trail

“God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars.” -Martin Luther

This week I was blessed to be able to join several buddies and hike the Art Loeb trail near Brevard, NC.  Although all 30+ miles of the trail were quite grueling on my ill-conditioned body, It was definitely four days of fellowship with Father that I wouldn’t trade for the world. Blisters were not the only thing I left the trail with; I also gained a new appreciation for the earth I live on . Father used every second of my time away from the rush of life to detox my mind. To show me the all my  futile striving and leave me awed by the beauty of this planet I call “home”.

This speck of blue and green hurling through space at mach 8.

His creation.

His masterpiece.

The most detailed and fascinating canvass ever spoken into existence.

I’m not going to lie, I dwelt in an almost constant state of awe as we hiked through the beautiful Shining Rock Wilderness area. Wave after wave of fresh realization swept over me every time we reached a peak or crossed a stream. He made this for US to enjoy! He didn’t have to carve out every beautiful deep gorge! He wasn’t forced to clothe every tree with bright green coat of moss! He didn’t begrudgingly paint each butterfly’s wings with vibrant colors!

NO, He did it to express His infinite glory.

Father is so incredibly creative, He never misses a chance to communicate with His children, and yet, I often find myself accusing him of being silent. I want to see Him face to face and audibly hear his voice. But the truth is, I just need to open my eyes and ears and simply soak up the world surrounding me. Every tree, rock, flower, and bird is a beautiful work of art that I can choose to acknowledged and learn from… or ignore and carry on my way.

Over the course of the hike I often found that my mind was so focused on the mountain five miles down the trail that I could barely enjoy the breathtaking waterfall five feet in front of me.It made me realize that I don’t want to live life this way. Rushing from goal to goal, from class to class, from committment to committment and never really enjoying any of them. Our time on this tiny green and blue speck is far to short to be wasted rushing through it all.

Our lives have nothing to do with the destination, and everything to do with the journey.

Everyone dies, but not everyone truly lives.

Each second of the day we have the chance to pause and ask God, “What do you want to show me about yourself through this situation? through this tree? or through this person?”

I believe that every star, every blade of grass, and every mountaintop view has something significant and unique to say about its creator. We simply have to listen closely and allow it to tell its own story.

Psalm 19: 1-4

“The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
 Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
 They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
 Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.”

A Few Thoughts on Short Term Missions: Part 1

I’ve seen a lot of articles floating around on the interwebz lately about “short-term missions” and since I have spent most of my life overseas on the mission field, I though I might throw a few of my random thoughts around. These articles, combined with my tiny bit of experience, have raised some of the following questions in my mind:

Are short-term mission trips effective in advancing the KOG (kingdom of God)?

Does a handful of rich, white kids spending a week in Guatemala or Kenya or the Philippines really have any eternal impact? Or are they just wasting time and resources that could be put towards other things?

Is this what Jesus meant when He said in Matthew 28: 18-19  ”All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.  Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

I am so freaking analytically. It is something that God has really been trying to show me the futility of lately. Whenever I look at these questions I just want to gather up all the numbers and punch them into a giant formula. All the people saved. All the kids who decide to be missionaries. All the dollars spent on the trips.  I somehow think that if I can just factor everything into the mother of all equations, I will be able to press the big, fat ENTER button and watch as it spits out the universal YES/NO answer that I wish existed.  But alas, that’s just not how it works.

Every situation is different, and for every situation God’s perfect will might be different. Any time we, as finite humans, try to pretend we know exactly what God’s will in a situation is, I believe that He sees that as an opportunity to completely wreck our sense of who He is. In a wonderful way. Because any time we think we have Father’s plan figured out, we place ourselves on the same level with Him. Which means we have a long, long way to fall when what we expect or believe turns out to be not quite equal to reality.

SO… I’m not actually going to answer any of those questions. I don’t think Father wants me to.

Instead, I want to draw attention to a little story. It can be found in Matthew 26:6-13,  Mark 14:3-9,  Luke 7:36-50, and John 12:1-8. I would encourage you to meditate on it if the Holy Spirit has ever called you to do something that other people tell you is illogical and wasteful.  Even other people who follow Jesus.

Matthew 26:6-13

“While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table.

When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. “This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.”

Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

The Disciples, the very people who had followed Jesus around for the last three years were simply being  logical. the perfume was known as “nard” and it was worth a small fortune. Approximately a million dollars in today’s economy. imagine how many orphans and widows could have been provided for with that money? Yet Mary wastes it all by smearing it on Jesus. What the heck Mary? Way to be wasteful….

But that is not what Jesus says, instead, He sees her heart and knows that she is giving Him the most valuable thing she owns. This sacrifice seems like a complete waste to the rest of the world because they can’t grasp the bigger picture. They had no idea that the son of God would be with them for only another week before His death. Everywhere He went for the next week, the scent of nard followed Him. Its beautiful smell permeated every situation and conversation by reminding Jesus of His ultimate purpose on earth; to redeem all of humanity by His sacrifice.

In the same way the disciples couldn’t see the eternal effects of Mary’s illogical sacrifice, I often overlook the eternal impact that short-term mission trips have on the KOG.

Where I might be guilty of seeing an expensive, inefficient, needy group of white kids wondering helpless around a foreign country whining about mosquito bites and sunburn, Father sees an unstoppable army of Jesus-followers rising up to break down the gates of hell.

And where I see an effective, experienced long-term missionary giving their life away in the jungles of who-knows-where, God might see a wolf spreading false truth and yoking people with religion. Our perceptions are often not parallel with reality.

In that case, It really all comes down to the Holy Spirit’s leading, If He tells you to go, then GO with boldness. If He tells you to give, then GIVE with joy. If He tells you to dump perfume all over someone… then… DUMP AWAY!

By the way, check out this Chica’s blog,  it doesn’t reflect my opinion entirely, but It does spark some very interesting thoughts.  http://www.theveryworstmissionary.com/2012/04/healthy-short-term-missions-do-it-like.html

Also, I am planning on approaching this topic again in the near future, so I would greatly appreciate any experiences and thoughts you would care to share. Thanks!

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The Mission: God’s Call on My Life for the Summer of 2012

Dear friends,

I am writing to tell you about an exciting opportunity that God has called me to be a part of this summer. I am currently finishing my freshmen year at Anderson University where I am preparing for a life of service in the international medical field. After months of praying and submitting my plans to His will, Father has opened a door for me to spend the summer of 2012 serving Him overseas in the Philippines.

This summer, I will spend two months living and working in the mountains surrounding the city of Butuan. A radically mission-minded organization known as, Nehemiah Teams, is who I am going with.  While there, my time will be spent assisting the local healthcare professionals, tending to the physical needs of the Philippine people, and shining the light of the Kingdom into some of the darkest places on earth. My team of four will also be involved in evangelism and discipleship with the local church in the city.

If God leads you, please consider partnering with me in prayer throughout this journey. In lieu of a newsletter, I will be maintaining a blog, fishtheabyss.wordpress.com. Please Subscribe and check there often, as I will be updating it regularly with prayer concerns and stories about the Kingdom breaking through the darkness.

In order to walk through this open door and make this summer’s dream a reality, I must raise $2,900 for my airline ticket and daily living expenses. Please prayerfully consider partnering with me in raising financial support for this journey.  (If God leads you to give, then email me at natezackheard@gmail.com for more details).

Here are a few specific prayer requests as I begin this next step in obedience to our heavenly Father.

 1) Pray that Father will provide financially for my trip.

2) That my words and actions would effectively communicate the love of Christ.

3) That Father will prepare me and my team members to be vessels of his love.

4) And that the Philippine people would have their eyes and ears opened to the Kingdom of heaven.

As the date for my departure (May 31) quickly approaches, I am increasingly excited to begin this journey and cannot wait to share with you what happens over the next few months. I want to thank you in advance for both your prayers and financial support. May God bless you as you prayerfully consider partnering with me in this ministry.

In Christ,

-NZH

 

Here are some videos that other teams have posted in years past: Enjoy!

 

Deep Cries Out to Deep

Psalm 42:7

“Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.”

Mankind was created to always thirst for more life.

Like a tree planted by a spring, our roots where always meant to go deeper and deeper in search of living water.

What was yesterday’s deep, refreshing pool, is today’s shallow puddle in our eyes.

Mankind’s inability to be satisfied by what he already has is Father’s beautiful design.

We were meant to enjoy the infinite nature of our Heavenly Father.

The extent of His love will never be measured by human minds

And the depths of His glory will never be found, no matter how deep we may dive.

The Father longs for His children to desire to drink deeply of him.

John 7:37

“If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink.”

Yet, Father is so incredibly gentle with us that He never takes us where we don’t want to go.

He longs to bring us to the deepest most refreshing pools of His love.

But He won’t drag us there forcefully, we have to follow willingly.

Therefore, this is the lesson I am learning:

To let Thirst be my escort.

Pray that in the months to come, I would not be satisfied with what little the world has to offer us.

Pray that none of my petty insecurities and lack of boldness would stop me from recklessly diving into the unfathomable depths that are His glory.

Pray that my thirst for the things of the Spirit would be quenched by nothing but the deepest love of our Father.

Revelation 22:17

“The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price.”

Great song by an amazingly anointed worship leader.

Frequency of Heaven

Just a splattering of thoughts.

Nothing original.

Just something Father has been trying to get me to wrap my mind around.

So how do we pray?

I feel like I shotgun God with prayers sometimes.

I pull out a mental list of people and situations that I want him to fix and then just start rattling them off without really knowing if what I am asking is God’s will.

I might be the only one… But I kind of get frustrated when my prayers don’t get answered.

I mean… Matthew 7:7-8  says:

  “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.”

So why isn’t everything we pray for just falling into our laps?

hmmmm…

What if we are asking for the wrong things, looking in the wrong places and knocking on the wrong doors?

But I don’t believe that Father wants us to stumble around blindly not knowing what to ask Him for.

So what if we could have every prayer answered because we knew Father’s heart in the situation and knew exactly what to pray for?

Romans 8:34 says that Jesus sits at the right hand of God and intercedes for us constantly.

And Romans 8:26 says that the Spirit of God who dwells inside us cries out to the heart of the Father with “groans that words can not express.”

I am an extremely visual person, God made me that way, and He speaks to me in pictures.

So when I read those scriptures, I cannot help but to see The Father, Son and Holy Spirit all sitting at a round table talking honestly about us and probably doing a lot of laughing.

What if… we could eavesdrop on those conversations?

Instead of rushing through a list of names and being disappointed when we see nothing happen, how would turning off our silly brains and listening for a bit radically change our prayer lives?

What if we could tune our ears to the Frequency of Heaven.

Just leave the busyness and noise that this world is drowning in and approach the throne of grace with boldness (Hebrews 4:16).

This is what that looks like for me:

Just honestly Asking for Father to reveal His heart in the situation to me.

Listening till I feel/hear/smell/taste/see him move me in some way.

And trust Father that whatever He moves me to pray for is in His will.

It takes time and it’s not a perfect formula, but it is something that God has been trying to show me.

So I though I would share it.

Thanks for reading!

 

PS: expect more blog posts, I’m going to actually start posting again. :p

 

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The Vision

These are words from a prophetic song by Jake Hamilton.

“ So this guy comes up to me and says “what’s the vision? What’s the big idea?” I open my mouth and words come out like this… The vision?

The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.

The vision is an army of young people.

You see bones? I see an army. And they are FREE from materialism.

They laugh at 9-5 little prisons. They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday. They wouldn’t even notice. They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won. They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport.. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence. They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying. What is the vision ? The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and adults angry. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure.

Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation. It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games. This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause. A million times a day its soldiers

choose to lose that they might one day win the great ‘Well done’ of faithful sons and daughters.

Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don’t need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: “COME ON!”

And this is the sound of the underground The whisper of history in the making Foundations shaking Revolutionaries dreaming once again Mystery is scheming in whispers Conspiracy is breathing… This is the sound of the underground

And the army is discipl(in)ed.

Young people who beat their bodies into submission.

Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms. The tattoo on their back boasts “for me to live is Christ and to die is gain”.

Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes. Winners. Martyrs. Who can stop them ? Can hormones hold them back? Can failure succeed? Can fear scare them or death kill them ?

And the generation prays

like a dying man with groans beyond talking, with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and with great barrow loads of laughter! Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.

Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mould them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.

They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive

inside.

On the outside? They hardly care. They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide. Would they surrender their image or their popularity? They would lay down their very lives – swap seats with the man on death row – guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.

With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,

they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.

Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.) Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus. Their words make demons scream in shopping centres. Don’t you hear them coming? Herald the weirdo’s! Summon the losers and the freaks. Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes. They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension. Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.

And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon. How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God. My tomorrow is his today. My distant hope is his 3D. And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great ‘Amen!’ from countless angels, from hero’s of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.

Guaranteed. “

For some incredible insight and resources, check out this site: 24-7prayer.com

“Utila” in review

These last few days have been a whirlwind of constant motion.

On Wednesday of last week I had the sudden urge to do a little exploring with the last week I have here in this beautiful country. So I called up my friend in the peace corp who was already planning on going, Invited my host brother, Roger, and early the next morning we found ourselves by the side of the road waiting for a bus to the seaside town of La Ceiba.

And that is where the adventure began.

To start the day off, we missed the first two buses heading directly to the coast because the decide not to stop for us. This forced us into backtracking to a larger city and taking another bus over two hours later.

Aside from the slow start, the bus ride was pretty decent as far as Honduran transportation goes. God answered all of the prayers for safety that I did and didn’t offer up. Something He is very good. As I have discovered continually over this past summer. We then boarded the crowded ferry destined for Utila and made safe passage as well.

Then the chaos began

I knew that the island would be especially crowded this weekend because of a local music and dance festival called Sunjam that is held annually on a tiny cay neighboring the island. But little did I expect the massive influx of Hondurans, Europeans, and North Americans alike, who collectively left the streets, restaurants, and hotels absolutely saturated with bodies and void of extra breathing space.

The two hours we spent lugging our backpacks around the island (which is a lot bigger than it looks) bear testament to the unfortunate lack of housing courtesy of Sunjam. But despite the intense heat and the myriad of mosquitos that infested the tiny room we finally found, I still managed to get a great night’s rest. Roger on the other hand didn’t sleep a wink.

The next day went a little better. We swam a bit, did some exploring, and at a lot. Yet, through a series of unfortunate events, the room we slept in before got rented out to someone else right under our noses and we once again found ourselves wandering the streets in search of a room.

Which we did eventually find.

In the loudest and most drunken part of a town well know for its debauchery.

Yet somehow, the new room was more costly and in worse condition than the one we had spent the previous night in. That being said, I spent the majority of my night tossing and turning on my well-burnt back, while Roger slept like a babe.

"the man"

The following morning we rose late and rented snorkeling gear for a day of exploration in the world’s second largest reef system. I had heard tales of the bay island’s underwater beauty, But little was I prepared for the universe of creativity that God has locked away under the tranquil waves of the Caribbean. I wish I could have taken pictures, But alas… no waterproof camera here. So you’ll just have to take my word for it when I say that we serve an intense and creative God. No one born in this world could possibly have dreamed up such a diverse and intricate ecosystem as can be found off in the reefs of Utila.

It was this same day that I ran into the wonderful people at “Rio Coco Beans.” You can read a little more about that HERE if you like.

That night, Roger and I took advantage of the vacuum that had been created by all of the people leaving the island for a day of partying. We found a good, cool room right on the ocean front and both of us caught quite a bit of sleep that night. That morning we both decided to forego the 6am ferry that would have allowed us to spend another day at another beach called “Tela” and instead decided to a little church service held weekly at “Rio Coco Beans.”

The service was

Refreshing.

After so many weeks of community-less existence at my home-site. As a group we read through the first eleven chapters of John in order to glean a better view of who this guy named Jesus who claimed “Godship” rally was.

Following that beautiful time of discussion, God introduced me to a young follower of Allah who had been around the coffee-shop the last few days, and had been  listening to us for the last two hours. God really used him to open my eyes to different aspects of Islam that I had previously not delved into. I feel like I left that conversation stronger in my faith and with a fuller view of who this guy we all call “Jesus” really was.

We finally finished exchanging  contact info, collected our bags, and got in line at the dock, only to discover that tickets to the mainland were completely sold out for the next two days. I was personally fine with being “trapped” on an island paradise, but Roger on the other hand absolutely had to be in town that night to apply for his university that year.

But, like always, God was in control, and out of nowhere appeared a another tiny ferry offering to take 30 more people before it docked for the day.

Roger and I were ticket numbers 29 and 30.

Our God knows how to take care of His children, does he not? even the faithless ones. And that night he continued to protect and guide the two of us to our home in Taulabe.

With empty wallets, sunburns, and a generous handful of new and interesting friends.

….wow… that was… a lot longer than I thought… and sorry for the lack of pictures :p

God and Guaimaca

Psalm 8:3-4
“When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?”

Our God is an artist unlike any the world knows.

No matter how many lies the world feeds us, all we have to do is look at the very molecules that hold our bodies and this very universe together.

They seep design, like a million tiny brushstrokes denoting the artist’s skill.

Where It not for the constant staying of His hand,

All we know would cease to exist in an instant.

But zoom out a bit now,

Our God works on all levels.

The hand that stays the universe day by day belongs to the same one who has painted my entire life in vivid colors on the canvas that is Eternity.

The last week of July that I spent in Guaimaca showed me this in undeniable ways.

While I was busy doubting His involvement the whole time I was preparing for the trip, He was busy putting the finishing on a week that truly shaped my ideas about medicine and my future involvement in it.

Let me try to hastily sketch this fabulous week out for you with my faltering hands.

The week began when I met the surgical brigade of over 30 surgeons, doctors, nurses, and students in the Tegucigalpa Airport.

Over the next few hours we got to know each other better as we shared stories and aching backs in the relic of a school bus that BMDMI (Baptist Medical & Dental Mission International) uses to transport their teams to the hospital .

Day two, we attended the local church service and then waded into the Baptist hospital’s waiting room where hundreds of people had journeyed from all over Honduras to be attended to by the handful of North American doctors. That day’s activities also included the cleaning and reorganizing of the Hospitals surgical rooms and equipment and preparing the week’s list of almost 60 patients.

Day three, the fun began. Since we were pretty well staffed as far as third-world, medical teams go, I was able to bounce around quite a bit and  to watch, learn from, and help several different doctors as they preformed a myriad of different surgeries. Later that night God allowed me to use what Spanish I have gleaned these last two months to comfort the patients who were recovering from surgery. Many of them had traveled from far, far away and didn’t have family to keep them company throughout the night. I’ve heard it’s nice to have someone to talk to and to change your IV bags and to dole out meds when it gets painful.  Over the week I really enjoyed that side of patient care, and would often wonder in and out of the recovery rooms throughout the night just talking and helping the night nurse.

Day four was what really opened my eyes to how creative and original this wonderful artist we call “Lord” truly is. Throughout the day I got to scrub into and assist the doctors with three different cases: a laparoscopic gall bladder removal, a varicose veins removal, and an orthopedic tendon lengthening surgery. As I lied in bed that night, I found it so hard to believe that I, a seventeen-year-old, just out of high-school could be assisting in surgeries that most medical school students don’t get to see until their third and fourth years. Undeniably, Everything I had seen that day pointed directly to our creator’s hand in the way our bodies work. The human body is absolutely incredible. A priceless work of art that we cannot value enough.

Days five and six went much like the fourth. I saw more, learned more, and did more than I deem possible as I reflect back on it now.

So as the week drew to a close, I found myself wishing that this time would never end. I felt so at home, so useful, so intrigued and drawn in by this type of medical work, that I found myself wishing that it would never end. My prayer now is that the time I spent in Guaimaca would continue to fuel my passion for medicine as I enter my first year of college in just five days. Studies will be tough, that is a given, but I pray that God would keep alive this spark that he has set in my heart for those with medical needs in third-world settings.

As God keeps adding stroke after stroke to picture that is becoming my life, I cannot help but to praise His underrated ability. Over the eons, far to many people have brought criticism against the very Artist who sculpted their very existence. Based on His glory, which I cannot deny, it is all I can do but to posture my life, my actions, and my words to draw glory to my creator, not I, his undeserving creation!

Here is a picture gallery I have included to document the week’s progress, Enjoy!

Church service in Guaimaca

One of many long surgeries

A little auxiliary tissue- not a bad souvenir

A baby that was born halfway through the week

A little orthopedic work

pre-surgery squirming

One of the most difficult cases, yet one of the sweetest patients.

Part of BMDMI’s beautiful compound

The Baptist church

Me, trying my best to discern the surgeon’s next move

A nasty bicycle wreck

The Laparoscopic room, In all it’s simple glory!

haha, so professional

My mom and one of the many friends she made in the recovery rooms

The makeshift ICU

The other Incredible blessing that God poured out on me that week was my mother’s presence with the team as a translator. The day before the group was due, she decided to come (without notifying me). So she dropped everything, filled out all of the paperwork and hopped on a plane for Honduras. I know she had second, third, and fourth thoughts about using the money, but I also know that God used her greatly that week, both to comfort the patients and to liven up the team.

Thanks Mom! for wading through all my paperwork, for keeping in touch, for constantly encouraging, and for just being there all week long!