A family in rural Honduras. Five children, a house of concrete and tin, and a father who works the land with his hands.
October 2025 · Honduras · with Rooted Intl.
To capture the beauty of each person.
To show how God, the creator of the universe, created them too.
Their lives. Their family.
You arrive and the kids don't hide. They don't perform either.
They just let you in.
Their hands.
Their voices.
Their faces.
The totality of who they are.
They have one bike between five kids.
Nobody argues about whose turn it is.
"Love is shared. Work is practiced. Smiles are chosen."
— Evey Zambrana
He knows their names.
And their deepest grievances.
And their fullest joy.
He knows them.
And you get to see.
To share in the beauty of what the Father sees.
You drive away on the same road you came in on.
But you're not the same person who arrived.
They'll still be here tomorrow. He'll still be with them.
To be known by Him, is to know others.
O LORD, you have searched me and known me!
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O LORD, you know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, "Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,"
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.
For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
I awake, and I am still with you.
Oh that you would slay the wicked, O God!
O men of blood, depart from me!
They speak against you with malicious intent;
your enemies take your name in vain.
Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD?
And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?
I hate them with complete hatred;
I count them my enemies.
Search me, O God, and know my heart!
Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.
