The sweat. The mosquitoes. The sun. The mangos. The dust. The ocean. It's great to be back. I think I was honestly a little excited when I arrived in La Quinta, where I'm staying with a missionary family, the Pirkles, and sweat started beading on my forehead. Such a familiar feeling.
It almost seems like I was only gone for a few weeks. The night I arrived, I sat on the Pirkles' couch with the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead and some of my favorite people around me, and I just felt so relaxed and at home. I had been completely prepared to find everything changed and foreign since I know a lot happens in a year here, but it doesn't really feel like much has.
Like I said, the Pirkles generously invited me to stay with them for the six weeks I'll be here. Dr. Vance is an OB-GYN at the hospital and Miss Susan works as a hospital administrator. They have four kids living here (and then one away at college): Rebekah, Sarah, Caleb, and Phillip. They're crazy Georgia Bulldogs fans and beast at barbecue and, in general, wonderful people, and I'm glad to have a family to live with. I don't mind living by myself, but it's nice to have people to have dinner with and sit around in the evenings with and that sort of thing.
So far, my weekly schedule looks like this: Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I'll be working at the Children's Center (basically a foster home), Tuesdays I'll go to La Ceiba to visit the people in Los Laureles (the community living in the city dump), and Wednesdays I'll go out to Rio Esteban to teach English at the bilingual school I was working at before.
I've worked two days at the Children's Center. Iain and Liz, the Scottish couple who run the home, want me to work with the kids who go to the public school in Balfate to assess where they're at in their grade level, what areas they're struggling, and how we can help them improve (the schools don't provide the parents with much feedback on their kids' progress, other than that they're passing or failing). It's been a lot of fun working with the kids. One-on-one is much closer to my alley than managing an entire classroom.
Which is why I'm also enjoying going out to W-Ragar Bilingual School and teaching English. I was a little worried that I might have to substitute teach or something, but, so far, I have only been taking several kids at a time during class periods and working with them. Most of the students are really good and attentive. It's a lot of fun.
I wasn't able to go to the Dump last Tuesday, so I went Saturday instead. Lisa brought three of the boys from Los Laureles who are living with her indefinitely for different reasons, and we ran errands in town and visited the Dump.
Lisa kept asking the boys to keep their eyes open for José, a twelve-year-old boy who lived with her for a year and recently ran back to La Ceiba because of a crack addiction. He had stayed with her for so long, and loved reading the Bible and going to church. He went home to his family for a while, apparently, but he never stays there more than a few days because his step dad is abusive. Now he's back out on the streets with his older brother. We did see them walking along the road, and Lisa said they were probably headed for a stoplight to beg. It made me want to cry. Lisa said she sometimes wonders how many times your heart can be completely crushed before you can't take it anymore; how can you just keep loving? She knows better than a lot of people the answer to that question. In John 14:26-27, Jesus told his disciples, "The Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." Then, just a little bit later at the end of chapter 16 he says, "I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." That's how. It takes a lot of strength and love to keep pouring your heart out without receiving much in return, but that's what Jesus did for us and what he's called and equipped us to do. He already overcame the world. He gave us his peace. It's really amazing to me. If you remember, please be praying for this little boy, that he wouldn't be able to forget about Lisa and what he was learning about God.
If I get my thoughts a little more collected, I'll write later.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
1 Week
1 week.
That's what's left.
After this being my home for a year, all I have is one week.
The time has flown by since I got back here in June. My cousin, Amanda, stayed for almost three amazing weeks. I cannot describe how much of a joy and blessing it was to me to be able to have her here. Besides great quality-girl-talk time and a few late night baking sessions and several intense basketball games, she kept busy with getting to know the kids at the Children's Center and helping me out at W-Ragar Bilingual School and even singing with us for worship one evening at church. When she left, quite a few kids asked me where my "prima" was and when she was coming back. She made a good impression, I'd say.
Since I've been back, I have begun helping out two days a week at El Camino Kinder, a bilingual kindergarten and future grade school that just started up this school year. Things like the adorable little white and navy blue uniforms and the 5-year-old energy level and beyond cute tiny Spanish-English accents make me love working there.
It is fun and at the same time difficult to try to figure out each of the kid's individual learning styles and motivators. You can't handle two different kids the same way. It just doesn't work. One of the boys, Aron, is very smart and because of that sometimes has problems staying focused and applying himself while he has to wait for the others to catch up. He can get a bit ornery. All you have to do to get him interested again is to give him a competition and he's as good as gold. "Alright, Aron, let's see if you guys can stand in line better than everyone else." And suddenly, his little hands shoot straight down to his side and he stands up tall and he's ready to go.
About four weeks ago, I moved from staff housing (where I've been staying all year) into a small house beside the Children's Center. Kara, another intern, was kind enough to let me come live with her after I got semi-kicked out of staff housing. I was asked to move out as a big favor because of a sudden need for a room, but honestly, I had already been secretly scheming to come live here but just couldn't figure out how. Apparently, and per usual, God had a great plan.
I'm living in this little house.
The one on the left. The pila is the square cement pool-looking thing in the front.
It's just to the right of this big house, the Children's Center.
Probably partly because of my personality, I absolutely love living here, right in the middle of everything and everyone. It seems perfectly fabulous to me to be able to play keep away with the kids in the afternoons and buy topos (popsicles in sandwich bags) whenever I feel a craving; or sit talking on the porch with my friends until it's dark and then move to the pila so we won't disturb Kara; or have one of the kids knock on my front door asking if I want to learn how to make tortillas, because the cook is about to make 80 and I can come help if I'd like; or decide to walk to the beach with some kids because it's hot and we want coconuts.
Last week, Kara and I cooked together for the kids and crew of the Loma de Luz Missionary Kid (MK) Camp. Cooking for 50 people is a full-time, tiring job. From 6 to 6, we made food. My hands are a little beat up now and my feet are a bit sore, but I have to say, I actually really enjoyed working in the kitchen. It was great being able to get to know some of the missionary kids from around Honduras just because I made their dinner.
I did get to participate in the camp, too. I wasn't going to have to, because being a member of one of the competing teams means memorizing quite a bit of scripture each day and a quizzing competition every evening to earn points for your team, and I wasn't supposed to have time for all of that. But after having several kids come in the kitchen to ask for help with memorizing their verses, I couldn't help myself. "PUT ME ON A TEAM," I said. Memorizing, competition? Right up my alley. I have to admit, I did get pretty into the whole competition, and I'm glad my team won. *go Blue!*
But overall, it was great to have a week to spend with the missionary kids and interns. The last evening, two of the MK girls and I took pillows and blankets outside to lay on the patio outside of staff housing and look at the stars. They were so clear, the clearest I've seen in a long time, with an arm of the Milky Way visible and sparkling. A huge and glittery shooting star, probably three times as big as the brightest star, shot clear across the sky. We could hear the waves crashing down the hill on the beach and thousands of chirping tree frogs and cicadas and it was so beautiful.
I'm trying to start thinking about leaving in two weeks and trying to prepare myself. But it's so hard imagining life without all of these people around me, people who I've grown to love dearly...the missionaries, their kids, the Honduran children, the teachers at the bilingual school, the workers at the Children's Center...
There's a part of me that would just like to sit down and cry about leaving, and then figure out a grand scheme to keep me from it. Not that I don't miss home, especially all my lovely family, but the hope of seeing my other home again seems more real. I haven't ever felt like I wouldn't go back to the States.
Leaving here is so much more unsure. I don't know what God has for me after this. I really don't know if I'll be able to come back and visit soon, if at all. And if I can and do, there's no guarantee that anyone who is here right now will be here then. I'll never come back to the same Honduras, that much IS sure. That's what makes leaving here so hard.
I feel like my never ending lesson is to learn to trust in my Father. He led me to come here for a season, and for that I am so incredibly thankful. And yet now I know he's telling me to leave, even if it hurts. I just want to trust in his love for me, let myself sink into it and be pushed along by it, no matter where he's asking me to go or what he wants me to do. I was struggling with leaving and trusting a few nights ago and was reading in 1 Corinthians about lots of good things about grace and freedom and everything wonderful that didn't seem to be helping me. But I "happened" across 1 Corinthians 2:9, that says, "However, as it is written: 'No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.'" My only peace in leaving comes from that - that I know that God sees all and knows all and is in control of everything, and that if I let him, he'll lead me through a life of serving him that will in the end be more beautiful and worth it than I could ever imagine right now.
Please be praying for me during this last week or so. There are so many people to say goodbye to and it's hard to know how to spend my time. It's short, that's for sure.
See everyone in ten days!
That's what's left.
After this being my home for a year, all I have is one week.
The time has flown by since I got back here in June. My cousin, Amanda, stayed for almost three amazing weeks. I cannot describe how much of a joy and blessing it was to me to be able to have her here. Besides great quality-girl-talk time and a few late night baking sessions and several intense basketball games, she kept busy with getting to know the kids at the Children's Center and helping me out at W-Ragar Bilingual School and even singing with us for worship one evening at church. When she left, quite a few kids asked me where my "prima" was and when she was coming back. She made a good impression, I'd say.
Since I've been back, I have begun helping out two days a week at El Camino Kinder, a bilingual kindergarten and future grade school that just started up this school year. Things like the adorable little white and navy blue uniforms and the 5-year-old energy level and beyond cute tiny Spanish-English accents make me love working there.
It is fun and at the same time difficult to try to figure out each of the kid's individual learning styles and motivators. You can't handle two different kids the same way. It just doesn't work. One of the boys, Aron, is very smart and because of that sometimes has problems staying focused and applying himself while he has to wait for the others to catch up. He can get a bit ornery. All you have to do to get him interested again is to give him a competition and he's as good as gold. "Alright, Aron, let's see if you guys can stand in line better than everyone else." And suddenly, his little hands shoot straight down to his side and he stands up tall and he's ready to go.
About four weeks ago, I moved from staff housing (where I've been staying all year) into a small house beside the Children's Center. Kara, another intern, was kind enough to let me come live with her after I got semi-kicked out of staff housing. I was asked to move out as a big favor because of a sudden need for a room, but honestly, I had already been secretly scheming to come live here but just couldn't figure out how. Apparently, and per usual, God had a great plan.
I'm living in this little house.
The one on the left. The pila is the square cement pool-looking thing in the front.
It's just to the right of this big house, the Children's Center.
Probably partly because of my personality, I absolutely love living here, right in the middle of everything and everyone. It seems perfectly fabulous to me to be able to play keep away with the kids in the afternoons and buy topos (popsicles in sandwich bags) whenever I feel a craving; or sit talking on the porch with my friends until it's dark and then move to the pila so we won't disturb Kara; or have one of the kids knock on my front door asking if I want to learn how to make tortillas, because the cook is about to make 80 and I can come help if I'd like; or decide to walk to the beach with some kids because it's hot and we want coconuts.
Last week, Kara and I cooked together for the kids and crew of the Loma de Luz Missionary Kid (MK) Camp. Cooking for 50 people is a full-time, tiring job. From 6 to 6, we made food. My hands are a little beat up now and my feet are a bit sore, but I have to say, I actually really enjoyed working in the kitchen. It was great being able to get to know some of the missionary kids from around Honduras just because I made their dinner.
I did get to participate in the camp, too. I wasn't going to have to, because being a member of one of the competing teams means memorizing quite a bit of scripture each day and a quizzing competition every evening to earn points for your team, and I wasn't supposed to have time for all of that. But after having several kids come in the kitchen to ask for help with memorizing their verses, I couldn't help myself. "PUT ME ON A TEAM," I said. Memorizing, competition? Right up my alley. I have to admit, I did get pretty into the whole competition, and I'm glad my team won. *go Blue!*
But overall, it was great to have a week to spend with the missionary kids and interns. The last evening, two of the MK girls and I took pillows and blankets outside to lay on the patio outside of staff housing and look at the stars. They were so clear, the clearest I've seen in a long time, with an arm of the Milky Way visible and sparkling. A huge and glittery shooting star, probably three times as big as the brightest star, shot clear across the sky. We could hear the waves crashing down the hill on the beach and thousands of chirping tree frogs and cicadas and it was so beautiful.
I'm trying to start thinking about leaving in two weeks and trying to prepare myself. But it's so hard imagining life without all of these people around me, people who I've grown to love dearly...the missionaries, their kids, the Honduran children, the teachers at the bilingual school, the workers at the Children's Center...
There's a part of me that would just like to sit down and cry about leaving, and then figure out a grand scheme to keep me from it. Not that I don't miss home, especially all my lovely family, but the hope of seeing my other home again seems more real. I haven't ever felt like I wouldn't go back to the States.
Leaving here is so much more unsure. I don't know what God has for me after this. I really don't know if I'll be able to come back and visit soon, if at all. And if I can and do, there's no guarantee that anyone who is here right now will be here then. I'll never come back to the same Honduras, that much IS sure. That's what makes leaving here so hard.
I feel like my never ending lesson is to learn to trust in my Father. He led me to come here for a season, and for that I am so incredibly thankful. And yet now I know he's telling me to leave, even if it hurts. I just want to trust in his love for me, let myself sink into it and be pushed along by it, no matter where he's asking me to go or what he wants me to do. I was struggling with leaving and trusting a few nights ago and was reading in 1 Corinthians about lots of good things about grace and freedom and everything wonderful that didn't seem to be helping me. But I "happened" across 1 Corinthians 2:9, that says, "However, as it is written: 'No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.'" My only peace in leaving comes from that - that I know that God sees all and knows all and is in control of everything, and that if I let him, he'll lead me through a life of serving him that will in the end be more beautiful and worth it than I could ever imagine right now.
Please be praying for me during this last week or so. There are so many people to say goodbye to and it's hard to know how to spend my time. It's short, that's for sure.
See everyone in ten days!
Sunday, June 10, 2012
¡Bienvenida!
It's time to post again. So much has happened since I last wrote.
May 11 I went back to the States for a three week visit. John, Penny, and Eryn Alden all woke up to take me at 3:30 in the morning to La Ceiba to the bus station. Eryn and I rode in the back of the truck. A ride under the bright Honduran stars and through the cool night breeze was a perfect way to say goodbye, to Honduras for a little while and to Eryn for a long while.
She left Honduras about a week ago, while I was gone, to go back and live in the States. I'm going to miss all of her craziness that keeps me young during the week. I didn't realize when I first started teaching her how much she would teach me. But she has, about amazing things like compassion and generosity. She's a beautiful, special girl. Of course, we made sure to get some last-minute pictures together in the back of the truck. (In case you were wondering, it takes talent to perfectly time your picture taking so that you don't get jolted by all the potholes and come out with blurry pictures. I think we did alright...:) )
I had a great time at home...helped with a wedding, went to my church's Young Adults Retreat, spent good time with my family, caught up with friends, tried not to get used to the cool weather...
But three weeks go by really fast, and I'm back sitting in a hammock in staff housing (recently nicknamed "The Bungalow"), chugging water and dripping sweat and loving it.
My cousin, Amanda, is here to stay with me. I don't normally write this in the middle of a blog post because I think it looks a little unprofessional or cheesy or something, but my excitement level calls for it... *happy dance!!* Two whole weeks plus a few days with this girl? Yes! She's going to help me with teaching and hopefully have a grand time.
We arrived back here in La Quinta at the hospital just in time to go to the missionary Fellowship and see everyone. When I walked into the cabildo, they were still singing, but I sneaked up behind Dania and poked her and got a giant grin and hug from her. As hard as leaving either home is, I love the "You're back!" hugs, which are more like tackles. They're special, and I made sure to get one from everyone. "Hannah Mae! Bienvenida!"
Yesterday evening, Amanda and I went with the Pirkle family to Rosy's, a "restaurant" in Rio Esteban. As we drove through the streets, I kept seeing teachers and students from the bilingual school and I realized how much I miss the being there. Dealing with cultural differences in teaching styles and expectations and the kids' behavior at the school and trying to assimilate them tires me out some days, and after three months of teaching I was feeling a bit overextended and drained. But it's good sometimes to get away from something so that you can forget the stress of it and remember your love for it and the purpose in it. I almost cannot wait to show Amanda the school and introduce her to my students and give them a chance to practice English more and give them hugs. If you think about it, would you pray that I would use my last two months there well, that I would forget myself and "success" and focus instead on following the Holy Spirit's leading?
Let me just say *again* how excited I am that Amanda's here! I'll make sure and write all about my time with her later.
Happy Sunday, everyone!
May 11 I went back to the States for a three week visit. John, Penny, and Eryn Alden all woke up to take me at 3:30 in the morning to La Ceiba to the bus station. Eryn and I rode in the back of the truck. A ride under the bright Honduran stars and through the cool night breeze was a perfect way to say goodbye, to Honduras for a little while and to Eryn for a long while.
She left Honduras about a week ago, while I was gone, to go back and live in the States. I'm going to miss all of her craziness that keeps me young during the week. I didn't realize when I first started teaching her how much she would teach me. But she has, about amazing things like compassion and generosity. She's a beautiful, special girl. Of course, we made sure to get some last-minute pictures together in the back of the truck. (In case you were wondering, it takes talent to perfectly time your picture taking so that you don't get jolted by all the potholes and come out with blurry pictures. I think we did alright...:) )
We took a few nice photos....
And of course a "duck face" picture...Eryn put a new twist on that, haha.
But three weeks go by really fast, and I'm back sitting in a hammock in staff housing (recently nicknamed "The Bungalow"), chugging water and dripping sweat and loving it.
My cousin, Amanda, is here to stay with me. I don't normally write this in the middle of a blog post because I think it looks a little unprofessional or cheesy or something, but my excitement level calls for it... *happy dance!!* Two whole weeks plus a few days with this girl? Yes! She's going to help me with teaching and hopefully have a grand time.
We arrived back here in La Quinta at the hospital just in time to go to the missionary Fellowship and see everyone. When I walked into the cabildo, they were still singing, but I sneaked up behind Dania and poked her and got a giant grin and hug from her. As hard as leaving either home is, I love the "You're back!" hugs, which are more like tackles. They're special, and I made sure to get one from everyone. "Hannah Mae! Bienvenida!"
Yesterday evening, Amanda and I went with the Pirkle family to Rosy's, a "restaurant" in Rio Esteban. As we drove through the streets, I kept seeing teachers and students from the bilingual school and I realized how much I miss the being there. Dealing with cultural differences in teaching styles and expectations and the kids' behavior at the school and trying to assimilate them tires me out some days, and after three months of teaching I was feeling a bit overextended and drained. But it's good sometimes to get away from something so that you can forget the stress of it and remember your love for it and the purpose in it. I almost cannot wait to show Amanda the school and introduce her to my students and give them a chance to practice English more and give them hugs. If you think about it, would you pray that I would use my last two months there well, that I would forget myself and "success" and focus instead on following the Holy Spirit's leading?
Let me just say *again* how excited I am that Amanda's here! I'll make sure and write all about my time with her later.
Happy Sunday, everyone!
Amanda and Sarah sitting on the pila at the Children's Center.
Meet Antonio, one of the five new siblings at the CC.
Maria, swinging on la llanta.
The last of a sunset over the water in Rio Esteban.
Dinner at Rosy's...clockwise starting with the cracker-looking stuff I had casabe, rice and beans, ceviche, tajadas, and lobster.
Amanda and I's fan setup in our room.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Hydrate
My head hurts. It's really mostly my fault. I should know by now that drinking when you're thirsty just doesn't cut it when it's hot and humid. By then, it's too late. Also, taking a run in the mid-day heat today wasn't super smart.
I've been really busy recently. Also my fault, but this one I'm not upset about. I don't have many hours when I'm doing nothing. After I finish teaching around 1pm, I usually head home to clean a little, shower, eat, do responsible things.
I walk down the road to the Children's Center to hang out almost every afternoon. Around 4pm, it's like the entire world wakes up and congregates around the pila (the water spicket/wash area that is on a cement platform in the middle of the Children's Center buildings) - Nahun aka Nunca, Rucco, Morro, Dania, and Clari from one family and Aleli, Alberto, Fernando, and Dago from across the street; Jeison, Darwing, Andrea, and Cindy, the older kids from the Children's Center; Hannah, Sarah, Rebekah, Sydney, and Mariah, the MK's; and Julia, Estelle, and Kara, the other interns.
The little kids - Felix, Roni, Maria, Juancito, Merelin, Britany, and Genesis - have just woken up from their naps and come tottering out and ask me to swing them on the llanta (the tire swing). Usually I promise them ten swings each. "Vengase corriendo!" They want me to give them a giant push and run under the swing. Roni always wants me to pick him up, and when he clings to me he says that he's like a little spider. Yes, yes, he is.
We talk and eat topos (popsicles in sandwich bags that you can buy for one Lempira, which is about 20 cents) and generally end up sitting beside the campo (soccer field) while the guys play ball. I'm not sure why we sit right behind the goal. Usually we're all pretty good about dodging the ball, but last week I had turned my head to talk to someone and looked back towards the goal just as Fernando shot the ball straight into the goal and onto my head. This boy has a powerful kick. I now know how it feels to have your ears ring. That was the same afternoon they broke the window of Donya Delia's house…she's the lady who sells topos. Mr. Iain, the man who runs the Center with his wife, told everyone they couldn't play soccer again until the window was fixed. They made sure to get it fixed early the next day.
At least once a week, we weave through the palm trees in the field behind the Children's Center and head to the beach. Everyone leaves their flip flops and bags and the guys, their t-shirts, beside a giant tree in the sand and jumps into the water. It's always warm, and the waves are small and gentle. Sometimes, a school of little fish passes through the water, jumping into our faces and clothes. The little kids use my arms as floaties, Jeison grabs my feet and flips me upside down, Nunca shows me how to throw water into the air and swat it at someone, Fernando asks me how to say "moustache" in English because he wants to call me that but I tell him the word is "impeccable," Andrea throws mud from the sea on my head, and Sarah starts a game of keepaway with her Georgia Bulldogs football.
I've been having a blast.
But I sometimes forget to drink water, and, like today, I get a headache. It's a very special kind of headache, very acute and unique. All I can do is take two ibuprofen and start drinking and wait for my head to stop hurting.
I think I just don't feel the need to drink most of the time, so I forget about drinking until it hurts.
I think I do this with God, too. When I feel fine, I forget about how much I need God. Until it hurts.
But I want to delight in the law of the Lord and meditate on it day and night, like David talks about in Psalm 1. I want to be "like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither." Really, like I crave a cold glass of clean water after walking a mile to church on Sunday mornings in the thick air and under a hot sun, that's how my soul thirsts for God. That's how I really need him, even if I don't always remember.
I'm thankful he loves me. That's incredible. "As for you, O Lord, you will not restrain your mercy from me; your steadfast love and your faithfulness will ever preserve me." Psalms 40:11
I've been really busy recently. Also my fault, but this one I'm not upset about. I don't have many hours when I'm doing nothing. After I finish teaching around 1pm, I usually head home to clean a little, shower, eat, do responsible things.
I walk down the road to the Children's Center to hang out almost every afternoon. Around 4pm, it's like the entire world wakes up and congregates around the pila (the water spicket/wash area that is on a cement platform in the middle of the Children's Center buildings) - Nahun aka Nunca, Rucco, Morro, Dania, and Clari from one family and Aleli, Alberto, Fernando, and Dago from across the street; Jeison, Darwing, Andrea, and Cindy, the older kids from the Children's Center; Hannah, Sarah, Rebekah, Sydney, and Mariah, the MK's; and Julia, Estelle, and Kara, the other interns.
The little kids - Felix, Roni, Maria, Juancito, Merelin, Britany, and Genesis - have just woken up from their naps and come tottering out and ask me to swing them on the llanta (the tire swing). Usually I promise them ten swings each. "Vengase corriendo!" They want me to give them a giant push and run under the swing. Roni always wants me to pick him up, and when he clings to me he says that he's like a little spider. Yes, yes, he is.
We talk and eat topos (popsicles in sandwich bags that you can buy for one Lempira, which is about 20 cents) and generally end up sitting beside the campo (soccer field) while the guys play ball. I'm not sure why we sit right behind the goal. Usually we're all pretty good about dodging the ball, but last week I had turned my head to talk to someone and looked back towards the goal just as Fernando shot the ball straight into the goal and onto my head. This boy has a powerful kick. I now know how it feels to have your ears ring. That was the same afternoon they broke the window of Donya Delia's house…she's the lady who sells topos. Mr. Iain, the man who runs the Center with his wife, told everyone they couldn't play soccer again until the window was fixed. They made sure to get it fixed early the next day.
At least once a week, we weave through the palm trees in the field behind the Children's Center and head to the beach. Everyone leaves their flip flops and bags and the guys, their t-shirts, beside a giant tree in the sand and jumps into the water. It's always warm, and the waves are small and gentle. Sometimes, a school of little fish passes through the water, jumping into our faces and clothes. The little kids use my arms as floaties, Jeison grabs my feet and flips me upside down, Nunca shows me how to throw water into the air and swat it at someone, Fernando asks me how to say "moustache" in English because he wants to call me that but I tell him the word is "impeccable," Andrea throws mud from the sea on my head, and Sarah starts a game of keepaway with her Georgia Bulldogs football.
I've been having a blast.
But I sometimes forget to drink water, and, like today, I get a headache. It's a very special kind of headache, very acute and unique. All I can do is take two ibuprofen and start drinking and wait for my head to stop hurting.
I think I just don't feel the need to drink most of the time, so I forget about drinking until it hurts.
I think I do this with God, too. When I feel fine, I forget about how much I need God. Until it hurts.
But I want to delight in the law of the Lord and meditate on it day and night, like David talks about in Psalm 1. I want to be "like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither." Really, like I crave a cold glass of clean water after walking a mile to church on Sunday mornings in the thick air and under a hot sun, that's how my soul thirsts for God. That's how I really need him, even if I don't always remember.
I'm thankful he loves me. That's incredible. "As for you, O Lord, you will not restrain your mercy from me; your steadfast love and your faithfulness will ever preserve me." Psalms 40:11
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Love Better than Life
Every now and then, I go through a time when I remember how faithless and fickle I am. It scares me. When I realize how I am "continually straying like sheep" (1 Peter 2:25), when I start to get a taste of walking through a dark place without holding my Father's hand. When my independence rears its head and stares me in the face, I tremble.
Ask my Dad, he'll tell you that one of my favorite things to say as a little child was, "I do it myelf." Even now, I still say that, just in a slightly more intelligent-sounding way: "I got it." (...Isn't that grammatically incorrect? Shouldn't it be, "I have it"? Whatever. Not the point.)
The problem is, I don't "have it." Another problem: I don't realize that I don't.
Thankfully, God does.
It amazes me that God loves me enough to bring me back to Him when I wander. His love for us, His children, is so strong and true that even when we begin to walk away, search for joy in other things, put on the mindset that we can get along just fine without him, He searches us out and brings us back. Wow.
There is a Chris Rice song called "Prone to Wander." Apparently. I haven't heard it, and I can't find it on the internet so I can't listen to it. But I found the lyrics, and they are beautiful.
"On the surface not a ripple,
Undercurrent wages war.
Quiet in the sanctuary,
Sin is crouching at my door.
How can I be so prone to wander,
So prone to leave You,
So prone to die.
And how can You be so full of mercy,
You race to meet me and bring me back to life.
I wake to find my soul in fragments,
Given to a thousand loves.
But only One will have no rival,
Hangs to heal me, spills His blood.
Curse-reversing Day of Jesus,
When You finally seize my soul.
Freedom from myself will be the
Sweetest rest I've ever known.
How can I be so prone to wander,
So prone to leave You,
So prone to die.
And how can You be so full of mercy,
You race to meet me and bring me back to life."
~Chris Brown
I am branded with the sign of my Lord, and I treasure that mark, the mark of Love. The mark of mercy, of the sacrifice of the Lamb, of a royal priesthood, of a holy nation.
"Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm, for love is as strong as death, jealousy as fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it." Song of Solomon 8:6-7
"But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy." 1 Peter 2:9-10
His love is strong. It is passionate and fierce, and nothing will quench it. Not even my sin. For His glory and because of His love, he has made us into a people, His people. This is amazing.
"Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands." Psalm 63:3-4
Ask my Dad, he'll tell you that one of my favorite things to say as a little child was, "I do it myelf." Even now, I still say that, just in a slightly more intelligent-sounding way: "I got it." (...Isn't that grammatically incorrect? Shouldn't it be, "I have it"? Whatever. Not the point.)
The problem is, I don't "have it." Another problem: I don't realize that I don't.
Thankfully, God does.
It amazes me that God loves me enough to bring me back to Him when I wander. His love for us, His children, is so strong and true that even when we begin to walk away, search for joy in other things, put on the mindset that we can get along just fine without him, He searches us out and brings us back. Wow.
There is a Chris Rice song called "Prone to Wander." Apparently. I haven't heard it, and I can't find it on the internet so I can't listen to it. But I found the lyrics, and they are beautiful.
"On the surface not a ripple,
Undercurrent wages war.
Quiet in the sanctuary,
Sin is crouching at my door.
How can I be so prone to wander,
So prone to leave You,
So prone to die.
And how can You be so full of mercy,
You race to meet me and bring me back to life.
I wake to find my soul in fragments,
Given to a thousand loves.
But only One will have no rival,
Hangs to heal me, spills His blood.
Curse-reversing Day of Jesus,
When You finally seize my soul.
Freedom from myself will be the
Sweetest rest I've ever known.
How can I be so prone to wander,
So prone to leave You,
So prone to die.
And how can You be so full of mercy,
You race to meet me and bring me back to life."
~Chris Brown
I am branded with the sign of my Lord, and I treasure that mark, the mark of Love. The mark of mercy, of the sacrifice of the Lamb, of a royal priesthood, of a holy nation.
"Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm, for love is as strong as death, jealousy as fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it." Song of Solomon 8:6-7
"But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy." 1 Peter 2:9-10
His love is strong. It is passionate and fierce, and nothing will quench it. Not even my sin. For His glory and because of His love, he has made us into a people, His people. This is amazing.
"Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands." Psalm 63:3-4
Friday, March 16, 2012
Sore Throat
Last year, Deslinn, another teacher at W-Ragar, told me that she used to have a pretty singing voice but because of teaching she can't sing as well anymore. I wondered what it would be like to have to yell that loudly in class.
This week, I learned. I resolved at the start of this school year that yelling would not happen in my classrooms. I would be firm and loving and energetic and everything a good teacher should be, and the kids would listen and smile and laugh and learn everything a good student should. Obviously, I knew it would take time for me and them to adjust, but we'd all come around eventually.
I didn't realize my voice would give out before we did.
On Tuesday, while teaching 5th and 6th grade English, I told the kids that they had to be quiet and sit in their seats because I was teaching them new words and I couldn't shout anymore. I just couldn't. They quieted down a bit, long enough for them to learn a little something and for me to ask God for patience.
"Tee-chair." That's what they call me, with a little roll on the "r." It's cute, I just wish they wouldn't say it so loudly sometimes. "TEE-CHAIRRR!" Oh. Not right in my ear.
The problem with quinto y sexto is not totally that the kids are disobedient and disrespectful. Every kid can be those things, sometimes. But they just make so much noise, and then forget to listen to the teacher. "Prestame tu lápiz? (Lend me your pencil?) Quién tiene mi cuaderno? (Who has my notebook?) Dejame. (Leave me alone.) Sabe la respuesta? (Do you know the answer?) Cómo se escribe 'ropa' en inglés? (How do you write 'clothes' in English?)" That's the noise. All 15 of them, chattering at once. Why are you out of your chair? I ask. "I need to sharpen my pencil." Okay, he has a good reason, but he's just another little person walking around and asking questions and distracting the others.
I find myself wishing I had taken a TEFL course or something. I can start getting frustrated with myself and the school and the curriculum and everything. Often I find myself asking, "God, WHY ME." The books that the kids are using are far above their level of understanding, so I have been making up my own lessons to try and get them a little caught up in the simpler things. If I try and use the book, it usually ends up in more chaos and confusion and noise -- eight different kids shouting at once, "Tee-chair, vení! I have a question!"
One parent asked me if we were planning on using the book or if her daughter was just skipping the homework, because her book was empty. Nope, I'm just not using it. I could tell from the mother's face that she was going to ask if I was wasting the 400 lempiras she spent on MegaFlash, so I explained that we will use it after I teach a few basics. She seemed okay with that.
The reality is, there are a LOT of basics that we would need to go over before the kids would really understand their book. I keep thinking that I can just skip the harder things, but as I flip through MegaFlash, I realize that everything is a "harder thing" for them. Frustration.
But they're learning. Yesterday, Emanuel finished writing his 10 frases before some of the others had even started. Oh, actually, he wrote 30. Good kid. Then he asked me to "reviselo." I got out my red pen and checked all 30 sentences. Then I scribbled my name at the top of the paper, underlined it, and drew a quick star. "Dame cinco puntos!" Okay. 5 points for you. How you grade their work is very important to the children.
The rest of the kids, even the slower ones, all finished up and got their five points. It took some prodding and quieting and explaining, but they finished, and they're learning. This time at the end of class, everyone got a confite. As soon as I stood by the door and got out the bag, they all rushed over. Hagan fila! They made the best line they could and one by one I gave them a piece of candy.
----
It's 8:10pm and it's windy and pouring rain and almost chilly enough for me to wear my hoodie. I think I will.
----
One of my students, Marcos, got bored in class because he finished his work first, so he started writing sentences of his own. The first one made me laugh.
Here's my prayer: that God would use me in those kids lives to show his love to them. I sometimes wonder how me telling them twenty times to sit down and finish writing their sentences will give them any sort of idea of God's love. But I know He put me here. I know He's with me. I know He will work through me. I know He loves me. I know He loves them.
"I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing...As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love." John 15:5, 9
This week, I learned. I resolved at the start of this school year that yelling would not happen in my classrooms. I would be firm and loving and energetic and everything a good teacher should be, and the kids would listen and smile and laugh and learn everything a good student should. Obviously, I knew it would take time for me and them to adjust, but we'd all come around eventually.
I didn't realize my voice would give out before we did.
On Tuesday, while teaching 5th and 6th grade English, I told the kids that they had to be quiet and sit in their seats because I was teaching them new words and I couldn't shout anymore. I just couldn't. They quieted down a bit, long enough for them to learn a little something and for me to ask God for patience.
"Tee-chair." That's what they call me, with a little roll on the "r." It's cute, I just wish they wouldn't say it so loudly sometimes. "TEE-CHAIRRR!" Oh. Not right in my ear.
The problem with quinto y sexto is not totally that the kids are disobedient and disrespectful. Every kid can be those things, sometimes. But they just make so much noise, and then forget to listen to the teacher. "Prestame tu lápiz? (Lend me your pencil?) Quién tiene mi cuaderno? (Who has my notebook?) Dejame. (Leave me alone.) Sabe la respuesta? (Do you know the answer?) Cómo se escribe 'ropa' en inglés? (How do you write 'clothes' in English?)" That's the noise. All 15 of them, chattering at once. Why are you out of your chair? I ask. "I need to sharpen my pencil." Okay, he has a good reason, but he's just another little person walking around and asking questions and distracting the others.
I find myself wishing I had taken a TEFL course or something. I can start getting frustrated with myself and the school and the curriculum and everything. Often I find myself asking, "God, WHY ME." The books that the kids are using are far above their level of understanding, so I have been making up my own lessons to try and get them a little caught up in the simpler things. If I try and use the book, it usually ends up in more chaos and confusion and noise -- eight different kids shouting at once, "Tee-chair, vení! I have a question!"
One parent asked me if we were planning on using the book or if her daughter was just skipping the homework, because her book was empty. Nope, I'm just not using it. I could tell from the mother's face that she was going to ask if I was wasting the 400 lempiras she spent on MegaFlash, so I explained that we will use it after I teach a few basics. She seemed okay with that.
The reality is, there are a LOT of basics that we would need to go over before the kids would really understand their book. I keep thinking that I can just skip the harder things, but as I flip through MegaFlash, I realize that everything is a "harder thing" for them. Frustration.
But they're learning. Yesterday, Emanuel finished writing his 10 frases before some of the others had even started. Oh, actually, he wrote 30. Good kid. Then he asked me to "reviselo." I got out my red pen and checked all 30 sentences. Then I scribbled my name at the top of the paper, underlined it, and drew a quick star. "Dame cinco puntos!" Okay. 5 points for you. How you grade their work is very important to the children.
The rest of the kids, even the slower ones, all finished up and got their five points. It took some prodding and quieting and explaining, but they finished, and they're learning. This time at the end of class, everyone got a confite. As soon as I stood by the door and got out the bag, they all rushed over. Hagan fila! They made the best line they could and one by one I gave them a piece of candy.
----
It's 8:10pm and it's windy and pouring rain and almost chilly enough for me to wear my hoodie. I think I will.
----
One of my students, Marcos, got bored in class because he finished his work first, so he started writing sentences of his own. The first one made me laugh.
Here's my prayer: that God would use me in those kids lives to show his love to them. I sometimes wonder how me telling them twenty times to sit down and finish writing their sentences will give them any sort of idea of God's love. But I know He put me here. I know He's with me. I know He will work through me. I know He loves me. I know He loves them.
"I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing...As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love." John 15:5, 9
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Just Some Pictures
Here are a few pictures of some of the things I've been doing in the past two weeks.
Going to the beach, spending time with some awesome kids...
I went to the beach with Daña (on the left) and Samely one afternoon. After we played in the water they wanted to take pictures together. Gotta love these two girls. :)
Teaching at W-RAGAR Bilingual School
My 7th grade class minus one. Joni, Fredy, Deyner, Jordy, Carlos, Jasmin, and Daneli. These kids are great. If you can't tell from the picture, they are quite the characters. :)
And here are Joni, Fredy, Derick (my other student), and Jordy. Crazzzzy guys. :)
Visiting the Dump in La Ceiba with Lisa Bradley...
One of the things I get to do is bandage up the kids' cuts and scrapes. I love it.
Lisa teaching the kids a lesson about how Jesus cleans our hearts. The kids sometimes have trouble sitting still (what kid doesn't?), but they love to listen.
Krystle (another intern who is here) blowing bubbles with the kids.
Miss Lisa and Carlos, a boy who is staying with her for a while.
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