Kathy and I have just returned from a wonderful trip to Cap-haitien, Haiti.
It seemed like only yesterday when I had sat on a porch in rocking chairs and listened to Pastor Demsy pour out his heart. He had been pastoring for several years by then but had never received any training, only what he had learned in Sunday School.
Walking onto an American Airlines jet instead of a no name prop-plane to go to Haiti was exciting, but remembering our previous trip and the short, bumpy airstrip, and the small, hot sweat of the crowded two room field office where our luggage was taken, opened and searched, while a man with a machine gun stood by, gave me a slight pit in my stomach.
My flight didn’t leave out of San Pedro Sula Airport until late at night and the missionary was quite unconcerned with our four hour trip saying we had plenty of time and not to worry. It had been a wonderful trip to Honduras, full of the blessings of the Lord.
One of the most challenging trips I have ever been on was my first trip to Nicaragua when a young man was killed.
With two minutes until the train arrived it seemed that a floodgate opened somewhere and thousands of Japanese descended into the area, and most wanted to stand right next to me, touching, pushing and jockeying for position.