Day Three – “The Gospel in Wood, Nails, and Tears”

Philippians 2:3–5 | Mark 4:35–41

Garret stands at the ready while a young resident watches cautiously and with Hope at her new home being built

No less than 8-10 different rooster can be heard on any given morning

We awoke to a symphony only Honduras could compose, roosters crowing like trumpet players with no conductor, calling us out of slumber and into the story God was already writing. Groggy and stiff from the previous day’s travel, we shuffled toward the coffee pot like sojourners seeking revival at the altar of caffeine.

But this morning it was different. This morning, we were not just guests in Honduras, we were builders. We were bearers of good news.

We ate a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs (not ALL experiences are strictly Honduran), chatted lively amongst the team as we nervously but excitedly anticipated the day. This was construction day. We were expected to build two homes, and a good majority of the team had had limited experience swinging a hammer—let alone being expected to create something that could sustain a family.

But the work began quickly, and we were thrust into the midst of a Honduran team that had already erected the posts and support columns to which we would nail the rough-hewn lumber. Nails were tapped, hammered, and driven in depending on the strength and skill level of the person holding the tool. It took just two hours from post to finish.

A group would come in later to put on a roof, cut the door and a single window, and install the hardware. EVERY person, from oldest to youngest, played a role, and absolutely no one stood around. Every person found a job to do and was willing to pivot depending on what the moment demanded.

And believe it or not—I didn’t hear a single complaint. Not about the heat. Not about the task. Not about the sweat or soreness or splinters. We had a mission. And it was clear: this wasn’t about us.

Standing in front of Sonia's home

Sonia was the first to receive a home today. Her eyes told the story before her mouth did—disbelief, gratitude, joy. She shared with us that when she first received the call that she had been chosen for a house, she didn’t believe it. She thought it was a mistake. She hung up on the person who had called her about receiving a home until she heard it was “Ms. Kim” from In the Midst Honduras—a name locals know and trust.

As we gathered with her in the humble home, we prayed a blessing over her and listened to Misa (husband of Jessica from In the Midst), then also Jacob, share the Gospel. Her thank-you was not rehearsed or polished—it was raw, sacred, and overflowing.

And then came the surprise: because of additional support raised through generous giving back home by an individual, we were able to bless Sonia with something more—a concrete floor for her new home. In a place where floors are often packed dirt and swept with crude straw brooms, this was not just a luxury—it was a foundation of dignity. Sonia teared up. Many of us did.

Our next stop was a second home site, where we met Cristian and Kaitlin and their seven beautiful children. Initially, only two of the kids were there at the home, a 4-year-old boy and his 5-year-old sister. Too small to leave on their own, they stayed obediently in or near the home while we worked, fresh traces of a meal still clinging to clothes and faces. The sweet demeanor and shyness of kids long used to being home alone and too frightened to disobey an unseen mom and wander off. But they were very curious and watched us cautiously from the doorway at first, then joined in by dragging over the 6-foot boards when we needed them.

This homestead was a work in progress. A crude bathing area to the side consisted of a stall with a tattered curtain next to a cistern that threatened to leak if more than a foot of water was added. Laundry hung on the fence to dry reminded all that material items are few in these homes. And most do not have any running water or plumbing.

We were informed that the new home would be inhabited by 4 of the 7 individuals living on the ¼ acre lot. The new home, just 3 feet away from the older structure, made it difficult to fit our team of 26 or so who were working—but we also finished this home in less than two hours.

Their gratitude was quiet but weighty. Every nail driven into the frame, every beam lifted, felt like a testimony to God’s faithfulness—promises fulfilled not just in wood and nails, but in love and presence.

These homeowners were much more somber. Very little emotion was shown, but it was clear they were grateful for what they received.

This is the SECOND home we completed. To the left, the bathing area

The Gospel was shared again with the encouragement that if we want the Lord to be our Shepherd (Psalm 23, which was read), then we must FIRST ask Him to do so. We must surrender to Him AS our Shepherd and follow His leading. We don’t get the benefit of green pastures and still waters unless we surrender to Him first.

Home Church (Bible Study)

That evening before dinner, we gathered for a home church service. Still tired and sweaty from a long but fulfilling day, our clothes still smeared with traces of construction and sweat, we filled up the living room of a home of one of their church members to have a Bible study. Fresh mangoes were plucked from a tree in the front yard, and we started with a word from Misa while a local sang a few worship songs familiar to them. Voices carried out into the street as we worshipped our Savior together.

Jacob letting his son Jackson experience the tostada

A quick message was shared from Mark chapter 4, the story of Jesus calming the storm. As the message unfolded, Concha, the homeowner, stood to speak. Her voice was steady, but you could hear the tremble of memory. She shared about a storm she had walked through. Not a storm of wind and waves, but one of suffering. For a season, she had been unable to walk or speak. Her life was quiet, still, and desperate. But God stepped in and reminded her she was not alone—through therapy, through healing, through hope. And now here she was, walking, speaking, praising the God who calms storms both outside and within.

She served our entire team a tostada—a small fried tortilla shell with refried beans and cheese. Local fare served with some of the best Coca-Cola we’ve ever had. Not the American concoction of who-knows-what, but Coke made with local sugar cane and bottled in-country. Truly a treat.

For dinner, the ladies on our team got a chance to work alongside the local women making empanadas—a small turnover filled with rice, cheese, finely diced potatoes, and locally sourced beef or chicken. (Eat your heart out, Busy Bee Café.) It was a lof of fun to watch them not only learn a new skill, but to be able to participate in the responsibility it takes to care for the team. It was delicious and MANY tostadas were consumed.

Our team meeting and worship

As the evening came to a close, we gathered back at our base and shared highlights from the day. One by one, team members spoke—not about what they had done, but about what they had witnessed. The joy on Sonia’s face. The look in Kaitlin’s eyes. The humbling reality that we got to build not just one, but two homes today for families who have waited and prayed for years.

We are tired in body, yes—but full in spirit.

Because today, we saw the Gospel lived out in hands that served, in voices that worshiped, and in homes that now stand where there once was none.

And as we lay our heads down tonight, we do so grateful—grateful to be builders of hope, listeners of stories, and witnesses of a God who still calms storms.