When I was in the U.S. this pass December recovering from my broken wrists I was asked by several people “why are you going back?”.   I have thought about this a lot, and the answer is simply because I am called to be in Honduras.  A calling is a funny thing, it is something that catches you and holds you.  It is something you cannot easily run away from, see Jonah for consequences from running away. 

The truth is a robbery could have happened to me on the streets of Tampa, or Atlanta, or Jacksonville as easily as it did on the streets of La Ceiba, Honduras.  Even as I experienced the terror of the robbery I felt God’s presence, he saved my life, the pistol did not fire.  The shopkeeper and the security guard rescued me as God’s angles guarded me.  God is Good!

This afternoon I am sitting on my porch listening to the sounds of the village I live in.  Down by the stream women are washing clothes and hanging them on a line that is stretched between two trees.  Just beyond the stream the boys are playing soccer, yelling and arguing if the ball is in or out in Creole and Spanish.  Two puppies from my dog, Gabby, are sleeping beneath my table and I am preparing my sermon for Sunday.

Perhaps someday God will call me elsewhere but for now there is a sermon to write.

Rev. Robert Wood
Gibson Bite, Roatan, Honduras