Visiting San Marcos

The last time we tried to visit the church in San Marcos they had just had an all night prayer meeting and had canceled Sunday School. The funny thing about it was that we tried going to three different churches that particular Sunday and each one had done something unusual (either in time or place). Yesterday, we didn't have any trouble.
San Marcos appears to be a wide spot in the road. It is like a lot of little towns in Honduras in that it seems like it was cut out of rock. Not much soil, so just a few straggly little plants stick up, usually along fence lines. We pulled into town on a road that was mostly holes. I held my breath a couple of times, though John said the road wasn't really that bad. You had to go down kind of steep hill to get to the church. From up above, you could see the structure--the windows were deep-set which meant it was probably adobe, though where they would have found enough mud to make adobes with I have no idea. It turned out to have made with a lot of stone, too which made more sense. I couldn't see anyone in the yard outside the front door, so thought maybe we had chosen the wrong Sunday to come again.

We walked down the hill, around a corner and toward where we saw some people standing.
A couple of faces brightened as they recognized John and several people came forward to lead us into the church. What I had thought was the front door, was the back door, since the congregation had recently built a new auditorium, leaving the old church as a SS classroom. We were greeted at the door, and stepped inside. It was really a beautiful room. Nicely finished, lots of space, pretty tile on the floor. Not many people there yet, I thought, and hardly any children.
Some churches divide men and women into different sides of the aisle (think I wrote about that before) so I didn't want to sit down until someone told me where to sit. A few people were milling around, but no one was seated yet.

Then the pastor approached me to ask if I had come prepared to teach a children's class. I had. This way, he said. I walked toward the door that led to the old building. I stepped inside to discover close to 40 children waiting to start class (there was another classroom with another 40 smaller children next door). Counting the kids that sat in the window and watched, but wouldn't come in, I probably had 50 in my class.

After church, someone brought us a glass of Sprite and a package of soda crackers.

My first impressions were totally wrong. As it turns out, San Marcos may just look like a wide spot in the road, but it has a church with vision and a huge heart.. No one in the service looked like they had much individually. Together, they were pretty impressive.