Why I Love Duke

-
The other morning I walked out onto my porch around 8:00, coffee cup in hand expecting to be greeted by relative silence and inactivity in my neck of the neighborhood and as I panned out across the landscape I was pleasantly pleased to see Duke teaching his younger cousin how to take shots on goal. This may not seem terribly significant, it doesn't now as I write this but at the time I was just struck dumb with pure feelings of pride and love for Duke. He could have been spending his vacation week as I might have done, asleep or with friends and instead chose to wake up early and help Jose learn the sport that is life here in Los Laureles.
I'm excited for the man I see him becoming; a compassionate, honest and respectful leader amongst his peers. I'm excited to see his growing faith and thirst for a meaningful walk with Jesus. I'm excited to see how his qualities, his faith, how is life in general is impacting the kids around him. When I think back and remember the post I'd written about him more than a year ago it seems as though I was only scratching the surface of who he is. He's still goofy, quirky and oblivious but also he's a leader, an encourager, he takes his life seriously, he feels a heavy weight and responsibility for his mother and 3 sisters, he wants to follow Christ completely but is unsure how or if he can. I can't say enough about him other than that I love him and want the world for him. Pray for Duke.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Coming to Honduras

-
Image
The other day in philosophy class I was teaching about existentialism, a philosophy with which I have myriad problems. The universe is absurd, life is meaningless, authenticate yourself with irrational leaps of faith! Hopeless and disconnected from reality if you ask me. Get out of the café Camus, mix with some common folk! Nevertheless, as I was introducing the material I mentioned that the existentialists really probed the questions of Life's meaning and purpose: "How do I create myself to be unique and significant?" "How do I live an authentic existence?" "How do I give my life meaning and purpose in an otherwise meaningless universe?" These seem to be questions that are attendant to societies that possess extreme wealth and privilege and an over-abundance of leisure time. I have serious doubts that 15th Century English peasants or even nobles for that matter, spent much time contemplating how they might make their lives unique or leave a
Read more

10 Years In Honduras

-
Image
My good friend Jessiel Rivera reminded me the other day that it was 10 years ago this month that I arrived here in La Ceiba. I remember my arrival here from Costa Rica fairly vividly. I had been getting teary-eyed on the plane from a combination of sleep deprivation, my longing to remain with my friends in beautiful San Jose and some sad indie music on my iPod. It was a hot and terribly humid Sunday afternoon when I landed in the La Ceiba airport and when I stepped off the 10-seater hotbox of an airplane onto the tarmac I was sweaty, bleary-eyed and disheveled. I looked like a typical gringo backpacker except for my mountain of luggage that I had in tow. Two members of the Central Mennonite Church picked me up in their car; how they knew I was the Gringo they were supposed to collect was beyond me but they got it right. I remember them remarking on the number of suitcases I had brought (3) and their heaviness (maximum weight allowance); and the resulting weight of embarrassment I felt
Read more

Another Migrant Crisis

-
I've lived and worked in Honduras for 10 years both as a missionary, serving the very poorest of society and now as teacher, where I give philosophy and history classes to the children of the very wealthiest. I don't pretend to be an expert on Honduran society and I certainly cannot claim to have many answers with respect to issues of immigration. The whole topic strikes me as far more complex and nuanced than what many voices on either the Right or the Left make it out to be. Nevertheless, I know the milieu in which I live, I know why many poor Hondurans choose to emigrate illegally, I know why many wealthy Hondurans fly to Miami or Atlanta to give birth to their children and I know that all else remaining constant, this current caravan is only the beginning. A poor Honduran lives his life with little to no hope of ever achieving anything approaching financial stability. The people I know make their livings off of garbage collecting, selling unripened bananas and day-laborin
Read more