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
