Posted by: Honduras Mission Team | June 15, 2014

Saturday – Day 8…Coming Home

It’s coming home day!

It was another early morning start. I’d say we got up when the rooster crowed, but seriously, that rooster crows at ALL hours of the night.

Mass at 530a, then breakfast, loading the van and heading to the airport. This is usually where the blog stops. There is usually not much to say after that other than we got on the plane, took off and landed state-side. Well, not today.

Let me back up a bit and give you a few details from the week that will come into play in a couple of paragraphs from now….

[cue dream sequence music]

Earlier this week, after translating one of the homilies, Fr. Brian promptly “fired” Magda and Margarida as translators. In all fairness, he asked them to translate “just a couple of sentences.” Five paragraphs later and they were struggling to remember what he was saying long enough to repeat it.
The following day, Fr. Brian “fired” Greg as his “alarm clock” because he woke up with just minutes to spare before celebrating Mass. In reality, Greg knocked and knocked and did everything but blow the house down. Fr. Brian’s ear plugs work REALLY well, by the way.
After that, Greg was “fired” again (don’t ask how THAT happens) for his duties (or lack of) as altar server.
You see where this is going, right? The rest of us were just trying to lay low lest we end up in the unemployment line as well. 🙂

[end dream sequence music]

Back to the present… On our way down the mountain, we blew a tire on the van. By the grace of God, we were only several hundred yards from a tire repair shop, so we stopped to have it repaired. As the clock keeps ticking, we soon discover the tire was damaged beyond proper repair. (It helps to have Greg aka “The Tire Guy” on the trip.) We unload the luggage to access the spare tire so we can keep moving towards the airport.

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Don Christian, our driver, noted that we mostly likely picked up a nail when we stopped for the last bathroom break. Guess who had to go to the bathroom? Yep, Fr. Brian! We took great delight in “firing” him and we were all back to ground zero.

We lost about 30 minutes of time, but finally got back on the road. Together, we prayed the rosary, then a short time later came upon an accident on the side of the road. Where would we have been had we not had a flat tire? Only God knows, but I’m sure His providence was at work there.

A construction zone delay, and we finally arrived at the airport. We had to say our goodbyes quickly. The line for departing the country was long which would make it near impossible to catch our flight. Fr. Brian quickly stepped up to the plate (maybe he felt guilty about that bathroom run) and expedited us to the front of the line. It HAD to have been the collar—membership has it’s privileges!

Up, up and away and we were officially leaving Honduras.

The international entrance into the United States through Houston has new and improved kiosks making the process smooth and quick. We were officially stateside, where the smell of french fries welcomed us and the toilet paper could be flushed. Frankly, sometimes it’s the little things we fail to appreciate.

Fr. Brian, Jane, Magda, Margarida and Dana were all waiting at the gate for the last leg home. Magda boarded in the first group while the rest waited to be called. And we waited…and we waited. Finally, we approached the gate attendant. It turns out our seats had been given to stand-by passengers. After some discussion, we were allowed to board the plane and complete the trip home.

The Final Thought:

What an amazing trip! This has always been a journey of service and humility. But this trip, in particular, took a spiritual meaning to a whole new level. Some of the most inspiring moments were a result of deviating from the agenda. It was a reminder to be open to God’s providence; to trust in Him to open the doors to opportunities to serve and to be willing to walk through those doors.

For me, personally (Dana), it was about the Mass. I saw a hunger from the people—a spiritual hunger desiring for the Eucharist. There are many things, as an American living in a privileged area of the world, that I sometimes take for granted. I am privileged to get the opportunity to celebrate Mass each and every day. For many of the Hondurans—prisoners, people living in the remote Aldeas, or even those physically unable to attend regularly for whatever reason— the Mass is a privilege and an honor. Let us not take for granted that not only did our God send us his Son to die for our sins— but that we can celebrate Him each and every day through Mass.

Thanks for your prayers and support throughout this trip.



  1. Wish you all the best in Honduras. My prayers to all and may God bless you.

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