I love the people of Honduras! For the most part, they are good people who work hard and who always have time to talk.
Like I stated, it is good manners to greet everyone when you walk into a room of strangers. When entering a room of friends, it is custom to not only greet each person in turn, but to also give then a "beso" or kiss on the cheek. The Hondurans that know me throw in a hug too (because they know that hugging is an American thing).
Hondurans also have a knack for making me feel welcome, not laughing at my Spanish, and sharing their lives. Once Noe and I went to get baleadas (tortillas with beans, eggs, and avocado...yum) and ended up talking almost 20 minutes with the woman who was making them.
And when visiting a house, it is custom for the visitor to bring something for the host, usually some kind of bread or sweet treat to eat during coffee time. And the host almost always invites the guest in for a "cafecito" (a little coffee). Strangers become friends around a cup of coffee...I think that's a universal thing, but Honduran coffee with a little sweet bread seems to make the custom so much better!
Then thing I will miss the most about Honduras is the people. I have made so many wonderful friendships here, and have never felt like the outsider. Plus I already have 5 offers of places to stay when I return.
I guess I'll have to come back soon!
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Friday, December 2, 2011
Culture Part 2: Driving
At the beginning of my time here, I wrote several blogs about learning to drive. Well after a year and a half, I am quite good at driving in Honduras (although I may have to re-learn to drive in the States).
The rules of driving in Honduras is that there are no rules.
Police are not on the highways, they are stationed at the entrances to the city so anything goes on the highway.
For example, the speed limit is 60 kph(about 37 mph) on the highway. Most cars wouldn't dream of going any slower than 80 kph (50 mph) and usually drive about 100 kph (62 mph).
Those median lines? Forget about them.
No passing zones? No one follows them.
And driving is like one big game of chicken. I've seen the two lane highway fit four cars passing each other. No big deal.
If I drive like that in Wisconsin, I will be arrested, or at least heavily fined.
Driving in the city is another matter. There is A LOT of traffic, no matter what time of the day it is. People continue to drive fast and weave in and out of the lanes. Motorcyclists drive in between cars like they're threading a needle. And merging becomes a game of "my car is bigger than your car"...the biggest (or the least expensive) always wins.
Want to merge? Roll down the window and wave your hand. If the others are willing to let you in, they signal by flashing their lights. To show your appreciation, you give two short honks on your horn. I'm good at merging because I am a "rubia" aka I have lighter hair and skin...people are nicer to me when it comes to letting me in.
Another common trait for driving is being "conchudo". In English this word describes people who are rude and who don't necessarily consider others. For example, cars that pass on the shoulder of the highway because you are going to slowly. Or a car that merges when it is clearly not his turn. Or making an opening to pass when there is clearly not one. These people are conchudo. I have learned to be conchuda. It's not always a bad thing and is often necessary for driving in Tegucigalpa.
I am truly a Honduran driver, now that I have un-learned all the good driving techniques my parents taught me. Maybe they'll have to enroll me in driving school again?!
The rules of driving in Honduras is that there are no rules.
Police are not on the highways, they are stationed at the entrances to the city so anything goes on the highway.
For example, the speed limit is 60 kph(about 37 mph) on the highway. Most cars wouldn't dream of going any slower than 80 kph (50 mph) and usually drive about 100 kph (62 mph).
Those median lines? Forget about them.
No passing zones? No one follows them.
And driving is like one big game of chicken. I've seen the two lane highway fit four cars passing each other. No big deal.
If I drive like that in Wisconsin, I will be arrested, or at least heavily fined.
Driving in the city is another matter. There is A LOT of traffic, no matter what time of the day it is. People continue to drive fast and weave in and out of the lanes. Motorcyclists drive in between cars like they're threading a needle. And merging becomes a game of "my car is bigger than your car"...the biggest (or the least expensive) always wins.
Want to merge? Roll down the window and wave your hand. If the others are willing to let you in, they signal by flashing their lights. To show your appreciation, you give two short honks on your horn. I'm good at merging because I am a "rubia" aka I have lighter hair and skin...people are nicer to me when it comes to letting me in.
Another common trait for driving is being "conchudo". In English this word describes people who are rude and who don't necessarily consider others. For example, cars that pass on the shoulder of the highway because you are going to slowly. Or a car that merges when it is clearly not his turn. Or making an opening to pass when there is clearly not one. These people are conchudo. I have learned to be conchuda. It's not always a bad thing and is often necessary for driving in Tegucigalpa.
I am truly a Honduran driver, now that I have un-learned all the good driving techniques my parents taught me. Maybe they'll have to enroll me in driving school again?!
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Culture Part 1: The Waiting Room
Any kind of "appointment" is a cultural experience here. I use quotations because appointment is a loose term here. Basically you tell the doctor you're coming, the doctor tells you when he/she will arrive and then you wait your turn.
Doctors/dentists/hair dressers usually work out of their house. Their place of practice is normally a room that is added on to the house or a building within walking distance.
Once I took Angie to the dentist. We arrived at noon to find the place completely locked up, even though the dentist said she'd be there at 12. She arrived at quarter to one with all her kids. In the morning our dentist is a public school teacher, in the afternoon she cleans and pulls teeth. Don't try to figure that one out.
The one thing I love about Honduras is the waiting room. When a person enters, it is good manners to greet everyone with a "good morning" or "good afternoon". Perfect strangers can become good acquaintances after an afternoon in the waiting room. And because there are no set appointments, you might just end up spending the whole afternoon there.
I especially love when I go to get my hair done, because there is no waiting room. The whole hair salon is one room so it's like one big social event. I went to have my hair dyed last week and what an experience it was.
I entered to find two women ahead of me. Since there are 3 hairstylists, this normally wouldn't be a problem, but one hairstylist was already dying the other hairstylist's hair so I had to wait.
Three more women entered behind me and suddenly we had 6 customers for 3 hairstylists (2 of whom I mentioned were busy doing each others hair). Now things get interesting because it becomes a competition. I was already sitting in a chair so I got first dibs. Then things went a little like this.
- Hairstylist 1 is mixing my color while the first client waits for her color to set.
- Hairstylist 1 leaves me to take client 1 to wash out her hair. Client 4 (I am number 3) slips into client 1's chair.
- Hairstylist 2 dyes my hair and leaves it to set, then goes to wash out her own hair with hairstylist 3. Client 1 returns to find her chair occupied, and takes a seat on one of the waiting couches.
- Hairstylist 1 starts working on client 4. Hairstylist 2 takes me to wash out my hair. Client 1 grabs my chair.
- I come back from getting my hair washed and take the couch since my sets has been robbed.
- Client 2 finally evacuates her chair and as I go to grab it, client 5 swoops in and steals it. But Hairstylist 3 tells her that I was first and the chair is relinquished to me.
- Finally my hair is dried and straightened. I pay (not really sure who to pay) and get out as another woman fills my chair.
So there you go. In the course of 75 minutes, I sat in all three chairs and had my hair done by all three hair dressers. I also made friends with all the women in the salon, talked about my "kids", discussed hair styles and caught up on my Honduran "gossip". All for about 30 bucks.
Not bad for a day at the salon.
Doctors/dentists/hair dressers usually work out of their house. Their place of practice is normally a room that is added on to the house or a building within walking distance.
Once I took Angie to the dentist. We arrived at noon to find the place completely locked up, even though the dentist said she'd be there at 12. She arrived at quarter to one with all her kids. In the morning our dentist is a public school teacher, in the afternoon she cleans and pulls teeth. Don't try to figure that one out.
The one thing I love about Honduras is the waiting room. When a person enters, it is good manners to greet everyone with a "good morning" or "good afternoon". Perfect strangers can become good acquaintances after an afternoon in the waiting room. And because there are no set appointments, you might just end up spending the whole afternoon there.
I especially love when I go to get my hair done, because there is no waiting room. The whole hair salon is one room so it's like one big social event. I went to have my hair dyed last week and what an experience it was.
I entered to find two women ahead of me. Since there are 3 hairstylists, this normally wouldn't be a problem, but one hairstylist was already dying the other hairstylist's hair so I had to wait.
Three more women entered behind me and suddenly we had 6 customers for 3 hairstylists (2 of whom I mentioned were busy doing each others hair). Now things get interesting because it becomes a competition. I was already sitting in a chair so I got first dibs. Then things went a little like this.
- Hairstylist 1 is mixing my color while the first client waits for her color to set.
- Hairstylist 1 leaves me to take client 1 to wash out her hair. Client 4 (I am number 3) slips into client 1's chair.
- Hairstylist 2 dyes my hair and leaves it to set, then goes to wash out her own hair with hairstylist 3. Client 1 returns to find her chair occupied, and takes a seat on one of the waiting couches.
- Hairstylist 1 starts working on client 4. Hairstylist 2 takes me to wash out my hair. Client 1 grabs my chair.
- I come back from getting my hair washed and take the couch since my sets has been robbed.
- Client 2 finally evacuates her chair and as I go to grab it, client 5 swoops in and steals it. But Hairstylist 3 tells her that I was first and the chair is relinquished to me.
- Finally my hair is dried and straightened. I pay (not really sure who to pay) and get out as another woman fills my chair.
So there you go. In the course of 75 minutes, I sat in all three chairs and had my hair done by all three hair dressers. I also made friends with all the women in the salon, talked about my "kids", discussed hair styles and caught up on my Honduran "gossip". All for about 30 bucks.
Not bad for a day at the salon.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Silence
It wasn't intentional, but my life in Honduras has seemed to revolve around numbers. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I always seem to be counting to see if we are all "here".
21: different beds that I have slept in during my time in Honduras.
32: weeks of my bible study at church
18: trips I took to immigration to ask permission to stay in the country
80: minutes driving between Tegucigalpa and the Villa
3: movies in the Narnia series that we have watch countless times
25: pounds in the bag of rice that we buy nearly every week
24: people that we fit in the 15-passenger van for a trip to La Tigra
73: blogs about my adventures
And now just one number remains...FOUR
FOUR
In exactly four weeks, I will be on a plane bound for Atlanta, GA. In four weeks (minus a day) I will be packing two years worth of life into two suitcases. In four weeks there will be tears, and hugs, and a chorus of "Miss Katie, don't go".
And I won't want to go. I will want to stay and continue to be a part of raising a dozen kids. I will want to be here for Kimberly's birthday in December and the beginning of the new school year in February.
But it's not about what I want.
God said "go"
and I went. Now He is calling me home.
"How long?" I ask at three o'clock in the morning when I am on my knees. And there is silence.
"Will I get to see the girls graduate?". And there is silence.
"Who will teach English without me?" And there is silence.
"What am I going to do in the States? Where should I live?" and there is silence.
Silence. Silence. Silence.
I have learned to accept God's silence. It is not because He is punishing me, but rather because He knows that it's not yet time for me to know. He keeps silent before my downpour of questions. He will give me the answers when I am ready and able to receive them. And some time in the future He will begin to answer my questions when I least expect.
Psalm 37:7 says "be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him.". In Spanish, the same verse starts out "be silent before the Lord..."
Four weeks...
Four weeks to pack up my things, finish my bible study, say my goodbyes, find my "lost" items, and give the kids their English exams.
Four weeks to be silent before God, trusting in His next steps for my life.
21: different beds that I have slept in during my time in Honduras.
32: weeks of my bible study at church
18: trips I took to immigration to ask permission to stay in the country
80: minutes driving between Tegucigalpa and the Villa
3: movies in the Narnia series that we have watch countless times
25: pounds in the bag of rice that we buy nearly every week
24: people that we fit in the 15-passenger van for a trip to La Tigra
73: blogs about my adventures
And now just one number remains...FOUR
FOUR
In exactly four weeks, I will be on a plane bound for Atlanta, GA. In four weeks (minus a day) I will be packing two years worth of life into two suitcases. In four weeks there will be tears, and hugs, and a chorus of "Miss Katie, don't go".
And I won't want to go. I will want to stay and continue to be a part of raising a dozen kids. I will want to be here for Kimberly's birthday in December and the beginning of the new school year in February.
But it's not about what I want.
God said "go"
and I went. Now He is calling me home.
"How long?" I ask at three o'clock in the morning when I am on my knees. And there is silence.
"Will I get to see the girls graduate?". And there is silence.
"Who will teach English without me?" And there is silence.
"What am I going to do in the States? Where should I live?" and there is silence.
Silence. Silence. Silence.
I have learned to accept God's silence. It is not because He is punishing me, but rather because He knows that it's not yet time for me to know. He keeps silent before my downpour of questions. He will give me the answers when I am ready and able to receive them. And some time in the future He will begin to answer my questions when I least expect.
Psalm 37:7 says "be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him.". In Spanish, the same verse starts out "be silent before the Lord..."
Four weeks...
Four weeks to pack up my things, finish my bible study, say my goodbyes, find my "lost" items, and give the kids their English exams.
Four weeks to be silent before God, trusting in His next steps for my life.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Mama Bear
I know that I'm only 25 years old and that technically Haeyoung is the "mama" of the Villa, but in the past two years I have definitely taken on some "mama bear" qualities.
1. I am quick to defend my kids to others, even if they are saying the same thing that I was just complaining about the other day.
2. Call it a 6th sense but I always know where all 12 of them are and I seem to always know when they are about to get into trouble.
3. When we are in sketchy places, I definitely grow claws. They can tell by my face that I'm no-nonsense and they'd better not mess with me.
4. I become proud mama bear whenever our girls perform.
Let me explain that last one.
In August 2010, Angie came to the Villa and we discovered that she had a talent and a passion for dancing. So we channeled her dancing towards the other girls and BAM, we have a group of girls that worship God through dance. SO COOL.
First, they performed for Elvia's birthday celebration. The pastor was so touched, he invited them to share it with the whole congregation.
Then the girls choreographed some more songs and performed them at several outreaches in 4 different pueblos/cities.
A teacher at one of the major bilingual schools loved how the girls worshipped through dance and asked them to perform at her school in front of over 500 students.
And just this weekend the girls performed a drama in front of thousands of people at a city-wide outreach day. The girls rehearsed for hours every day and did a fantastic job when their time came.
I was able to watch them from the wings of the stage and was brought to tears. How beautiful are my girls. I am so proud to see how far God has brought them.
Our 7 girls came to us with major attitudes and a lot of emotional wounds that needed healing. Sara refused even a hug when she first arrived. Kimberly's first months were basically silent, and Paola used to break down in tears when she was addressed.
Then and now
A lot of stories could be told about how they were, but we focus on how they are now. I have grown to love these girls, my emotional bunch of teenage girls. They make me so proud. They love God and they serve Him.
God has brought them so far, and oh how far He will take them still!
1. I am quick to defend my kids to others, even if they are saying the same thing that I was just complaining about the other day.
2. Call it a 6th sense but I always know where all 12 of them are and I seem to always know when they are about to get into trouble.
3. When we are in sketchy places, I definitely grow claws. They can tell by my face that I'm no-nonsense and they'd better not mess with me.
4. I become proud mama bear whenever our girls perform.
Let me explain that last one.
In August 2010, Angie came to the Villa and we discovered that she had a talent and a passion for dancing. So we channeled her dancing towards the other girls and BAM, we have a group of girls that worship God through dance. SO COOL.
First, they performed for Elvia's birthday celebration. The pastor was so touched, he invited them to share it with the whole congregation.
Then the girls choreographed some more songs and performed them at several outreaches in 4 different pueblos/cities.
A teacher at one of the major bilingual schools loved how the girls worshipped through dance and asked them to perform at her school in front of over 500 students.
And just this weekend the girls performed a drama in front of thousands of people at a city-wide outreach day. The girls rehearsed for hours every day and did a fantastic job when their time came.
I was able to watch them from the wings of the stage and was brought to tears. How beautiful are my girls. I am so proud to see how far God has brought them.
Our 7 girls came to us with major attitudes and a lot of emotional wounds that needed healing. Sara refused even a hug when she first arrived. Kimberly's first months were basically silent, and Paola used to break down in tears when she was addressed.
Then and now
A lot of stories could be told about how they were, but we focus on how they are now. I have grown to love these girls, my emotional bunch of teenage girls. They make me so proud. They love God and they serve Him.
God has brought them so far, and oh how far He will take them still!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Little Women
On Saturday Haeyoung brought home the movie "Little Women" to watch with the girls.
I don't know why, but I never read the book when I was young but I decided that I wanted to read it before I watched the movie. So I woke up early on Sunday morning and started reading. I read, and read, and read. I laughed, I cried, I threw a pillow and I drove Carmen and Lisel crazy making predictions.
Finally I finished. I loved it! The book is well written, has dynamic characters, good morals, and experiences that everyone can relate to.
Then came time to watch the movie, I was so excited to see the characters and the plot played out.
And I was so disappointed.
Seriously. I was really disappointed. Actually I think the word I used was deceived. How dare those movie people take such a good book and ruin it! The best parts were taken out, everything was out of order and squished together, some parts were invented, and the characters didn't look anything like they looked in my imagination.
Just another lesson that the book is always better than the movie.
Sigh.
That's how it is in my life too. I read the Bible and I get so encouraged by the people who make up those pages.
Ester: she risked her own life to save her people
Ruth: she left her family behind to follow God
Paul: he faced ship-wrecks, a bite by a poisonous snake, 40-lashes minus one, and imprisonment and yet still wrote one of the most "joyful" books of the Bible (Philippians)
David: he was a man after God's own heart
Daniel: he slept with the lions
Countless men and women who have walked before me and found favor in the Lord's eyes. And then I try and feel like a failure.
The book is better than the movie.
I want to live without fear, full of joy, facing the trials head-on. But sometimes just getting out of bed in the morning is a chore. I want to write and encourage and speak truth into people's lives but first I have to pull the log out of my own eye.
And yet some day I will get there. Maybe I won't be asked to walk in the fire, or to lead an army, or be imprisoned. But I will do something great. I know this because we will all do something great.
God wants us to be great for Him. He wants us to be brave for Him. He wants us to serve Him.
And we will, we will. In His perfect timing.
Someday my movie will be just as good as the book.
I don't know why, but I never read the book when I was young but I decided that I wanted to read it before I watched the movie. So I woke up early on Sunday morning and started reading. I read, and read, and read. I laughed, I cried, I threw a pillow and I drove Carmen and Lisel crazy making predictions.
Finally I finished. I loved it! The book is well written, has dynamic characters, good morals, and experiences that everyone can relate to.
Then came time to watch the movie, I was so excited to see the characters and the plot played out.
And I was so disappointed.
Seriously. I was really disappointed. Actually I think the word I used was deceived. How dare those movie people take such a good book and ruin it! The best parts were taken out, everything was out of order and squished together, some parts were invented, and the characters didn't look anything like they looked in my imagination.
Just another lesson that the book is always better than the movie.
Sigh.
That's how it is in my life too. I read the Bible and I get so encouraged by the people who make up those pages.
Ester: she risked her own life to save her people
Ruth: she left her family behind to follow God
Paul: he faced ship-wrecks, a bite by a poisonous snake, 40-lashes minus one, and imprisonment and yet still wrote one of the most "joyful" books of the Bible (Philippians)
David: he was a man after God's own heart
Daniel: he slept with the lions
Countless men and women who have walked before me and found favor in the Lord's eyes. And then I try and feel like a failure.
The book is better than the movie.
I want to live without fear, full of joy, facing the trials head-on. But sometimes just getting out of bed in the morning is a chore. I want to write and encourage and speak truth into people's lives but first I have to pull the log out of my own eye.
And yet some day I will get there. Maybe I won't be asked to walk in the fire, or to lead an army, or be imprisoned. But I will do something great. I know this because we will all do something great.
God wants us to be great for Him. He wants us to be brave for Him. He wants us to serve Him.
And we will, we will. In His perfect timing.
Someday my movie will be just as good as the book.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Hold my Hand
A couple days ago I took the boys into Danli to help me run some errands. I like the company, the boys like the snack I always buy them for being my "assistants".
In search of a place to make photocopies, I led the boys around the city. Running across streets and cutting through alleys, always with the boys on my heels. Until I looked down and there were Josue and Daniel, one with his small hand placed firmly in mine, the other with his arm looped through mine like a perfect gentleman leading a lady.
It's so natural now, to walk surrounded by kids. To walk with my wallet tucked into my armpit so that my hands are free for holding. To change "partners" at each stoplight. It's so natural.
Today I was journaling. I have a bunch of errands to run that will take me all over this city. I will be alone as I pick up my passport from immigration, change money at the Chinese supermarket, cash checks at the bank, buy groceries for the week, and stop at the fruit stand to stock up on produce.
I will be alone
But for now I only think about my journal, and my coffee.
And the words flow. Not from my mind, but from my heart.
I read what I have written: Hold my hand Father. I just want you to hold my hand.
...just hold my hand
There is something so comforting in holding someone's hand. Because all of a sudden instead of one, you are two. There is the knowledge that no matter how dark it is, there is another to help you see. No matter how windy it gets, there is someone to sustain you. No wonder I always seem to have someone slipping their hand into mine!
So often my job is to be the adult. To be the comfort, to be the eyes that see and the one that sustains. I wipe tears and calm fears and make smiles appear. I am the adult.
But sometimes I want to be the little girl. I want to slip my hand into one that is bigger than mine. I want to be led and comforted by another.
Sometimes, admits the chaos of life, it is comforting to have someone take us by the hand and lead us.
My prayer this morning is simple and free of clutter. It is not a prayer that comes from my mouth, but is rather the cries of the heart of a little girl: Hold my hand Abba, just hold my hand.
In search of a place to make photocopies, I led the boys around the city. Running across streets and cutting through alleys, always with the boys on my heels. Until I looked down and there were Josue and Daniel, one with his small hand placed firmly in mine, the other with his arm looped through mine like a perfect gentleman leading a lady.
It's so natural now, to walk surrounded by kids. To walk with my wallet tucked into my armpit so that my hands are free for holding. To change "partners" at each stoplight. It's so natural.
Today I was journaling. I have a bunch of errands to run that will take me all over this city. I will be alone as I pick up my passport from immigration, change money at the Chinese supermarket, cash checks at the bank, buy groceries for the week, and stop at the fruit stand to stock up on produce.
I will be alone
But for now I only think about my journal, and my coffee.
And the words flow. Not from my mind, but from my heart.
I read what I have written: Hold my hand Father. I just want you to hold my hand.
...just hold my hand
There is something so comforting in holding someone's hand. Because all of a sudden instead of one, you are two. There is the knowledge that no matter how dark it is, there is another to help you see. No matter how windy it gets, there is someone to sustain you. No wonder I always seem to have someone slipping their hand into mine!
So often my job is to be the adult. To be the comfort, to be the eyes that see and the one that sustains. I wipe tears and calm fears and make smiles appear. I am the adult.
But sometimes I want to be the little girl. I want to slip my hand into one that is bigger than mine. I want to be led and comforted by another.
Sometimes, admits the chaos of life, it is comforting to have someone take us by the hand and lead us.
My prayer this morning is simple and free of clutter. It is not a prayer that comes from my mouth, but is rather the cries of the heart of a little girl: Hold my hand Abba, just hold my hand.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Cold Front
If you've been keeping up on weather, we've had a not-so-nice tropical storm that caused a lot of havoc in our little country. Due to a ton of wind and flooding, the southern part experienced a lot of damage and basically lost all communication with the rest of the country for a while. It was (and still is a mess).
Thankfully, we at the Villa were not subject to any of these problems except for the cold front.
Cold Front?
Ok, I know that those of you from the northern US and Canada are probably scoffing and about to give up reading right now.
Please hear me out.
When it gets cold in the US we:
turn on the heat, shut the doors, thank God for good insulation, make a fire, put on warm clothes, enjoy our thick carpeting.
In Honduras:
there is no heat (we have no need for it 95% of the year), there is no insulation in the houses, the windows and doors are not caulked to prevent a draft from entering, there is no carpeting. And at the Villa, thanks to our courtyard, every door opens to the outside.
Luckily we do have a fireplace, and a lot of fire wood. The girls are now professional fire-builders and the boys have fine-tuned the skill of cutting a tree trunk into fuel for the fireplace.
I love this "cold front" because it reminds me of fall back home. I like to curl up on the couch with a cup of coffee-or homemade tea, a blanket, and a book. And if I'm lucky, a little "buddy" comes to share my blanket and tuck his cold feet under my legs to warm them up.
Yes, I am a very lucky girl.
Thankfully, we at the Villa were not subject to any of these problems except for the cold front.
Cold Front?
Ok, I know that those of you from the northern US and Canada are probably scoffing and about to give up reading right now.
Please hear me out.
When it gets cold in the US we:
turn on the heat, shut the doors, thank God for good insulation, make a fire, put on warm clothes, enjoy our thick carpeting.
In Honduras:
there is no heat (we have no need for it 95% of the year), there is no insulation in the houses, the windows and doors are not caulked to prevent a draft from entering, there is no carpeting. And at the Villa, thanks to our courtyard, every door opens to the outside.
Luckily we do have a fireplace, and a lot of fire wood. The girls are now professional fire-builders and the boys have fine-tuned the skill of cutting a tree trunk into fuel for the fireplace.
I love this "cold front" because it reminds me of fall back home. I like to curl up on the couch with a cup of coffee-or homemade tea, a blanket, and a book. And if I'm lucky, a little "buddy" comes to share my blanket and tuck his cold feet under my legs to warm them up.
Yes, I am a very lucky girl.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Bad Day
You know that book Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad Day?
It stars out "I went to bed with gum in my mouth, and now there's gum in my hair."
Well, I've been having that kind of day. For two days.
On Saturday we woke up with no light. By Saturday night, there was no water either. Eating sandwiches and dry cereal. Sending the kids to the river to bathe while I wash my hair and face with water falling from the rain gutter. Everyone in bed by sunset (6:30pm) and going stir crazy. I went for a run to "get away" for a bit and found myself a mile from home and completely drenched by a sudden rain shower.
Into town for my day off and I spent 3 hours trying to cash a check (it's a long story)
Tired. Worn out. Frustrated.
A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day to be sure.
But then I stop for a coffee and a cookie (chocolate makes everything better) and a moment to think before I have a collapse of emotion.
Today I ate breakfast.
Today I got 3 hugs before 6 am.
Today I woke up in a warm bed.
Today I had money to go to the grocery store.
Today God kept me safe on the highway.
Today I was loved and appreciated.
How many people don't receive those things on a daily basis, and yet I do.
One of our children was abused by her own father and feared going to bed at night.
One of our children was locked in the house without food for almost two days.
One of our children ran drugs for an older sibling at the young age of 10.
One of our children was exposed to drugs and alcohol instead of being sent to school.
Many of our children came to us with deep emotion wounds that match the physical scars.
Many of our children begged and robbed and "lived" on the streets.
It still hurts my heart to hear the stories of these precious children, even if it is the 5th, 6th, 7th time.
I have never experienced any of those things.
Perspective.
So I guess it wasn't such a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day after all.
It stars out "I went to bed with gum in my mouth, and now there's gum in my hair."
Well, I've been having that kind of day. For two days.
On Saturday we woke up with no light. By Saturday night, there was no water either. Eating sandwiches and dry cereal. Sending the kids to the river to bathe while I wash my hair and face with water falling from the rain gutter. Everyone in bed by sunset (6:30pm) and going stir crazy. I went for a run to "get away" for a bit and found myself a mile from home and completely drenched by a sudden rain shower.
Into town for my day off and I spent 3 hours trying to cash a check (it's a long story)
Tired. Worn out. Frustrated.
A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day to be sure.
But then I stop for a coffee and a cookie (chocolate makes everything better) and a moment to think before I have a collapse of emotion.
Today I ate breakfast.
Today I got 3 hugs before 6 am.
Today I woke up in a warm bed.
Today I had money to go to the grocery store.
Today God kept me safe on the highway.
Today I was loved and appreciated.
How many people don't receive those things on a daily basis, and yet I do.
One of our children was abused by her own father and feared going to bed at night.
One of our children was locked in the house without food for almost two days.
One of our children ran drugs for an older sibling at the young age of 10.
One of our children was exposed to drugs and alcohol instead of being sent to school.
Many of our children came to us with deep emotion wounds that match the physical scars.
Many of our children begged and robbed and "lived" on the streets.
It still hurts my heart to hear the stories of these precious children, even if it is the 5th, 6th, 7th time.
I have never experienced any of those things.
Perspective.
So I guess it wasn't such a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day after all.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Twenty-five
A quarter of a century.
That's how old I am.
I am old.
Well, at least to the kids. I'm twice the age of most of them, and older than some of their parents.
In 25 years I have seen so much of the world, good and bad. I have seen the beauty of untamed wilderness, I have seen the horrible poverty of third world countries. I have felt the warmth of a pile of kids jumping on top of me, I have felt the sting of rejection. I have learned to share my toys and to share the Gospel. I have been victorious against skin cancer, and 16.5 years of schooling.
I have become independent. I have overcome my fear of the unknown. I look a challenge in the eye and laugh because I will always, ALWAYS triumph.
Yes. I am old.
But also
I am young.
I'm sure many of you are reading this and rolling your eyes. "What is this girl talking about being old?" you ask yourself.
It's true, 25 is young, I have so much ahead of me. On my birthday I was called "terrnita" which is a nice way of calling me "just a baby"
I have so much ahead of me, so many dreams to still be fulfilled. So much life to live, so much world to see, so much love to give (and receive). So much.
Right now the desires of my heart are simple and clear. I dream of writing a book. I dream of having a ministry, of serving my God to my full capacity. And above all, I want dream of being a mother and running my own household. (I'm still waiting for the husband part...good thing I've learned patience!)
I am perfect.
All in all, I think being 25 is perfect. I'm young enough to still get away with acting like a kid without embarrassing the girls. I'm young enough to do crazy and daring things without getting reprimanded. I'm old enough to make decisions and be in charge or things when it's called for. I'm old enough to finally be called an adult (that's still debatable)
Twenty-five and ALIVE (thank God for that)
Here's to another year, I think it's going to be a great one.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Life Is Good
Before I get started on the blog part, I have a confession to make.
I am not a good horse whisperer.
The day after my last post, Estrella died. It was really sad and awful-because I was home alone with the girls - and we all wanted to cry, but we were strong and didn't. So I guess I can cross that off my list of future jobs.
Regardless Life Is Good.
A while back, I "borrowed" a pair of socks from my mom. Cute "Life is good" socks with daisies. I liked them so much that she finally gave them to me.
The other day I grabbed a pair of socks from my drawer and scrambled to put them on. A few hours later, I looked down and saw "Life is good" staring up at me from my feet. It put a smile on my face, because it's true.
Sometimes I allow myself to get caught up in what is not good: the water pump is broken, Noe is fighting with Josue, I don't want to eat rice and beans, the horse is dead (you get the idea).
But the truth is: Life is good. It really is.
It's just that sometimes we have to dig a little deeper or look a little harder to see the rainbow through the clouds.
Last night I made a fire. It was probably the best I've ever made. It was so good, that we decided to throw some potatoes and roast them for dinner. They were exceptional potatoes. Life is good.
On Friday we went to a pueblo named Manzaragua to do an outreach. Over 120 kids came to see our kids sing, dance, act and present the Gospel. Then we got to break open pinatas filled with candy.
Life is good.
This morning I was able to talk to a college friend who I haven't talked to in over a month. She listened and encouraged me in so many ways.
Life is good.
God is good. Once we truly believe that and embrace it, we can believe and embrace the fact that life is good.
Being alive is good.
Living day-t0-day is good.
So yeah, our horse died, and the lock on the front gate doesn't work, and yesterday I had to walk nearly two miles to get vegetable oil, but usually the good outweighs the bad (because with the oil we made yummy banana bread).
Recap: God is good, therefore life is good.
I am not a good horse whisperer.
The day after my last post, Estrella died. It was really sad and awful-because I was home alone with the girls - and we all wanted to cry, but we were strong and didn't. So I guess I can cross that off my list of future jobs.
Regardless Life Is Good.
A while back, I "borrowed" a pair of socks from my mom. Cute "Life is good" socks with daisies. I liked them so much that she finally gave them to me.
The other day I grabbed a pair of socks from my drawer and scrambled to put them on. A few hours later, I looked down and saw "Life is good" staring up at me from my feet. It put a smile on my face, because it's true.
Sometimes I allow myself to get caught up in what is not good: the water pump is broken, Noe is fighting with Josue, I don't want to eat rice and beans, the horse is dead (you get the idea).
But the truth is: Life is good. It really is.
It's just that sometimes we have to dig a little deeper or look a little harder to see the rainbow through the clouds.
Last night I made a fire. It was probably the best I've ever made. It was so good, that we decided to throw some potatoes and roast them for dinner. They were exceptional potatoes. Life is good.
On Friday we went to a pueblo named Manzaragua to do an outreach. Over 120 kids came to see our kids sing, dance, act and present the Gospel. Then we got to break open pinatas filled with candy.
Life is good.
This morning I was able to talk to a college friend who I haven't talked to in over a month. She listened and encouraged me in so many ways.
Life is good.
God is good. Once we truly believe that and embrace it, we can believe and embrace the fact that life is good.
Being alive is good.
Living day-t0-day is good.
So yeah, our horse died, and the lock on the front gate doesn't work, and yesterday I had to walk nearly two miles to get vegetable oil, but usually the good outweighs the bad (because with the oil we made yummy banana bread).
Recap: God is good, therefore life is good.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Here’s the recap.
1. We received a horse as a gift.
2. We were surprised to find out she was pregnant.
3. The horse gave birth.
4. The man who took care of the horse left.
5. We realized that we needed to take care of the horse.
That’s where I come in.
I have always tended to avoid horses after an accident that occurred when I was younger. I will share the story so that you don’t think that it was some horribly tragic occurrence.
Some family friends of ours had a small farm. On the farm was a horse. Once I was riding the horse with the daughter of our friends. The saddle began to slide little by little, taking us along with it. (Picture two little girls still in the saddle, but now riding sideways).
Long story short, we fell off. She was caught, I was not. The story is more funny than traumatic, but I never had a fond feeling for horses.
Until now.
So our horse, we call her Estrella (which means star) and her baby Relampago (lightning) were running wild and not eating well and we basically sick and weak. It was proposed that we bring them closer to the house so we could tame them and keep an eye on them.
The boys were prohibited from getting close to the horses (you know how little boys are) and the girls were afraid.
Enter Miss Katie
For some reason, I feel a lot of sympathy for Estrella (I call her mama). She’s super thin and weak and still has to nurse her little baby.
Since her move to the house, I’ve taken to visiting her and bringing her water and treats. I guess I’m also in charge of untangling her (which happens a lot). Yesterday my head was way to close to her back hoofs for comfort, (she had gotten the rope wrapped around her two hind feet and was in danger of falling over) and all I could do was pray that she trusted me enough not to kick me.
So there’s the story of our horse. The veterinarian comes on Saturday and is going to give me official instructions for taking care of her. I’m kind of excited to be in charge of nursing her back to health.
And if it works, I can put a new job on my resume:
1. We received a horse as a gift.
2. We were surprised to find out she was pregnant.
3. The horse gave birth.
4. The man who took care of the horse left.
5. We realized that we needed to take care of the horse.
That’s where I come in.
I have always tended to avoid horses after an accident that occurred when I was younger. I will share the story so that you don’t think that it was some horribly tragic occurrence.
Some family friends of ours had a small farm. On the farm was a horse. Once I was riding the horse with the daughter of our friends. The saddle began to slide little by little, taking us along with it. (Picture two little girls still in the saddle, but now riding sideways).
Long story short, we fell off. She was caught, I was not. The story is more funny than traumatic, but I never had a fond feeling for horses.
Until now.
So our horse, we call her Estrella (which means star) and her baby Relampago (lightning) were running wild and not eating well and we basically sick and weak. It was proposed that we bring them closer to the house so we could tame them and keep an eye on them.
The boys were prohibited from getting close to the horses (you know how little boys are) and the girls were afraid.
Enter Miss Katie
For some reason, I feel a lot of sympathy for Estrella (I call her mama). She’s super thin and weak and still has to nurse her little baby.
Since her move to the house, I’ve taken to visiting her and bringing her water and treats. I guess I’m also in charge of untangling her (which happens a lot). Yesterday my head was way to close to her back hoofs for comfort, (she had gotten the rope wrapped around her two hind feet and was in danger of falling over) and all I could do was pray that she trusted me enough not to kick me.
So there’s the story of our horse. The veterinarian comes on Saturday and is going to give me official instructions for taking care of her. I’m kind of excited to be in charge of nursing her back to health.
And if it works, I can put a new job on my resume:
horse whisperer
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Big Sister
I always wanted a little sibling. Mostly I wanted a little brother, but I would have settle for a little sister too.
My parents on the other hand (as wise as they are) decided that two girls would probably be enough to keep them on their toes...they were right.
But 20-some years later, God has answered my prayers in a BIG WAY. I am the official, un-official big sister of 12+ "siblings".
It's a fun job...
...most of the time.
Allow me to share some highlights.
1. This is my butt
Ok, this may not have been one of my best "older sister" moments but in my first month here, I taught the kids the phrases sit on your butt and this is my (hand, leg, etc). Well, they are fast learners and managed to put the sentences together. Imagine Betsy's shock when Josue went up to her and proudly announced this is my butt.
2. Cooking lessons
I love to bake, the kids love to eat. It's a great relationship. It's been fun teaching the girls to bake and Lesli can make a 5-batch of banana bread without having to look at the recipe. Success!
3. Stand-up Comic
It's not usually a good idea to laugh at the mom, especially when she's upset about something. But the "big sister" - you can laugh at her all day. Even better when she makes mistakes in her Spanish or does something culturally incorrect. But seriously, I don't mind being the butt of the jokes and usually I deserve it.
Favorite topics are my driving skills, my first attempts at cooking for large quantities of children, and my baby pictures.
4. College pays off
This is the one that set off this whole blog. It's 8:00 at night and I'm sitting at the kitchen table with the majority of the kids. We're studying for exams this week. Since I'm the most recent graduate of the ministry, I am the one to help the kids study and do their homework. Good thing I went to college to be a teacher.
5. All-nighters
What teenage girl doesn't love a good sleepover? I definitely did, and even more in college. Sometimes it's therapeutic to stay up all night and talk or to rent movies and eat junk food and then repent of it the next morning. One night around Christmas time, Angie and I stayed up until 1 am talking on the pull-out couch in Betsy's living room. Getting up early the next morning was rough, but so worth it!
6. Goof-off
This is my favorite. I like to act like a kid, I like to be super silly, and I love it when the kids participate. Last weekend we were sent to be early, but no-one was tired. So...the girls and I dressed up as super heroes and filmed "interviews" with each other. Super silly and super fun. I'd love to tell you more about what happened, but we swore each other to secrecy!
Being a big sister here has been such a blessing for me. It's also been a challenge. I've always looked up to my big sister but not I have kids looking up to me. It definitely makes me think about my actions and words because I have to be a good example. Luckily the kids are gracious with me and God continues to teach me.
This is the "super hero" night. Don't judge. And as an added side note: all the underwear in the pictures is straight out of the package...super clean!
This is the "super hero" night. Don't judge. And as an added side note: all the underwear in the pictures is straight out of the package...super clean!
We got a little carried away while painting a "Happy Birthday" sign!
Friday, August 26, 2011
Tranquility
Tranquility, what a beautiful word. I didn't use it enough in the States, actually I don't think I ever used it.
The word for calm in Spanish is "tranquilo" and so I find myself using the word tranquil more and more each day.
Right now, at 2:30 pm on Friday afternoon, my life is the epitome of tranquility.
Here I sit at my compter, with my cup of coffee. 9 0f the 12 kids have gone into Tegucigalpa for the day. The other three are playing quietly in the living room after spending the morning doing yard-work.
Looking out the window, I am met by beautiful green trees and a single pink rose that has risen above the rock wall of the front porch. Listening to the light rain, inhaling that "wet grass" smell and watching the fog roll up the mountain.
Yes. Tranquility.
And yet, a year ago (maybe even a few months ago) I would never have dared to use that word to describe my life. How can my life be calm with 13 kids and a enthusiastic puppy? How can I enjoy the stillness of nature when life is moving so fast around me? How can I possibly say that things are "tranquilo" when there is always someone yelling (yes yelling) my name?
Still, here I am writing about tranquility. The tranquility of a soul that rests in the presence of the One who is in control.
At somepoint in the last couple months, a transformation began to take place in my being. Somewhere along the road, the Katie that always had to be in control learned how to roll with the punches. The girl who always wanted to know that plan, has learned ask less questions and enjoy the adventure ahead. The worrysome heart has surrendered. The spirit that was easily overwhelmed by details has learned to take a breathe.
Yes life is still hectic and crazy. There are somedays that my "to do" list has the most basic things on it (like "shower") just so that I'll make sure to keep time open to complete them. No, life is not stress-free or without hiccups in the road.
But I have changed. I am the tranquility. God has calmed the storms of my heart, the worries that tried to creep around with me from day to day. And as He continues to transform my heart, I have become aware of one thing:
I carry the tranquility within me.
Even admist an intense game of cards, or an argument in the kitchen, I can find my inner peace and quiet among the chaos.
What a beautiful feeling.
And so as I finish my cup of coffe and prepare for activity and noise that is soon to arrive, I thank God for this day, the rain shower and all the joys that come with it. And I praise God for the inner peace and a calm spirit that only comes from faith in Him.
The word for calm in Spanish is "tranquilo" and so I find myself using the word tranquil more and more each day.
Right now, at 2:30 pm on Friday afternoon, my life is the epitome of tranquility.
Here I sit at my compter, with my cup of coffee. 9 0f the 12 kids have gone into Tegucigalpa for the day. The other three are playing quietly in the living room after spending the morning doing yard-work.
Looking out the window, I am met by beautiful green trees and a single pink rose that has risen above the rock wall of the front porch. Listening to the light rain, inhaling that "wet grass" smell and watching the fog roll up the mountain.
Yes. Tranquility.
And yet, a year ago (maybe even a few months ago) I would never have dared to use that word to describe my life. How can my life be calm with 13 kids and a enthusiastic puppy? How can I enjoy the stillness of nature when life is moving so fast around me? How can I possibly say that things are "tranquilo" when there is always someone yelling (yes yelling) my name?
Still, here I am writing about tranquility. The tranquility of a soul that rests in the presence of the One who is in control.
At somepoint in the last couple months, a transformation began to take place in my being. Somewhere along the road, the Katie that always had to be in control learned how to roll with the punches. The girl who always wanted to know that plan, has learned ask less questions and enjoy the adventure ahead. The worrysome heart has surrendered. The spirit that was easily overwhelmed by details has learned to take a breathe.
Yes life is still hectic and crazy. There are somedays that my "to do" list has the most basic things on it (like "shower") just so that I'll make sure to keep time open to complete them. No, life is not stress-free or without hiccups in the road.
But I have changed. I am the tranquility. God has calmed the storms of my heart, the worries that tried to creep around with me from day to day. And as He continues to transform my heart, I have become aware of one thing:
I carry the tranquility within me.
Even admist an intense game of cards, or an argument in the kitchen, I can find my inner peace and quiet among the chaos.
What a beautiful feeling.
And so as I finish my cup of coffe and prepare for activity and noise that is soon to arrive, I thank God for this day, the rain shower and all the joys that come with it. And I praise God for the inner peace and a calm spirit that only comes from faith in Him.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Just Another Day
I wrote a while back (maybe February 2010) about the typical schedule at Jericho Villa. It's changed a lot, so I thought I'd update with a typical day in the life of Katie Hutjens...missionary in Honduras.
4:40 am- The alarm goes off
I manage to groan out "everybody up" and then hit the snooze button until 4:55 when I drag myself to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
5 am- Prayer
We all manage to get ourselves out of bed and downstairs to the living room where we have worship, prayer and read the daily devotions. This is hard for me. My flesh wants to pretend like I didn't hear the alarm, but we somehow make it nearly every morning.
6:15 am- Chores
After prayer, the kids all run off to put on their uniforms and clean their rooms. I head to the kitchen to help with breakfast. Or I grab my cup of coffee and do the rounds, making sure that beds are made, pajamas are put away, and things are organized.
6:30 am- Breakfast
Self explanitory
7 am- Arrival of Miss Loreana
I love when the teacher gets here. She gathers all the children to the school and my "time off" commences.
7-8:15 am-
I don't have a good name for this time but it's when I have my time with the Lord, read the Bible, journal, do my homework for my Bible class, and prepare my classroom. I usually consume a few cups of coffee during this time...hey, I gotta have my energy!
8:15-10 am- English class
I have two levels of students. I love this time of day. Teaching kids English is so much fun. Seriously.
10-11:30- Run
I know that the fact that I "run" 1.5 hours makes me sound like an athlete. But the truth is, I have to walk 10 minutes to get down the mountain, then I run, then it ususally takes me 20 minutes to get back up because the last thing I want to do after a long run is walk back up a mountain.
11:30-12:30- Grab bag
In this time I do everything else that I need to get done while I still have personal time. I shower, check emails, write lesson plans, chat with Haeyoung, make lunch.
12:30 pm- Lunch
1-5 pm- Supervise
The kids have to do their homework and their chores in the afternoon. Then they can play. My job is to walk around the Villa and count to make sure that all the kids are accounted for. I also help the kids study in this time and hang out with them once they've finished their chores.
5-6:30- Dinner
I hang out in the kitchen and help the older girls cook. Translation: I watch them make the food and "taste-test". It's a great job! 6 pm is dinner and then dishes.
6:30-8- Family Time
We hang out in the living room and play games (Checkers and Uno are favorites), listen to music, sing, tell stories, etc. Sometimes when we don't have electricity, we make a fire. Basically we just hang around as a family before bedtime.
8-9:30 pm- To the bedroom
At 8 we pray together and then head off to bed. I share a room with the 4 youngest girls (Paola, Kimberly, Lesli, and Carmen). We goof off and dance around and tell stories. It's really quite fun acting like a teenage girl! I never had to share a room growing up, and I never thought I'd end up sharing one with 4 girls, but I'm having a blast!
9:30(ish) pm- Lights Out
The best thing about getting up at 5 am (besides having time with God) is that we get to go to bed early! This definitely didn't happen when I was in the University!
So there you go. 24 years old and a "mother/older sister" to 13 kids.
I never EVER would have imagined my daily schedule as the one above but I have learned to love it and embrace it.
4:40 am- The alarm goes off
I manage to groan out "everybody up" and then hit the snooze button until 4:55 when I drag myself to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
5 am- Prayer
We all manage to get ourselves out of bed and downstairs to the living room where we have worship, prayer and read the daily devotions. This is hard for me. My flesh wants to pretend like I didn't hear the alarm, but we somehow make it nearly every morning.
6:15 am- Chores
After prayer, the kids all run off to put on their uniforms and clean their rooms. I head to the kitchen to help with breakfast. Or I grab my cup of coffee and do the rounds, making sure that beds are made, pajamas are put away, and things are organized.
6:30 am- Breakfast
Self explanitory
7 am- Arrival of Miss Loreana
I love when the teacher gets here. She gathers all the children to the school and my "time off" commences.
7-8:15 am-
I don't have a good name for this time but it's when I have my time with the Lord, read the Bible, journal, do my homework for my Bible class, and prepare my classroom. I usually consume a few cups of coffee during this time...hey, I gotta have my energy!
8:15-10 am- English class
I have two levels of students. I love this time of day. Teaching kids English is so much fun. Seriously.
10-11:30- Run
I know that the fact that I "run" 1.5 hours makes me sound like an athlete. But the truth is, I have to walk 10 minutes to get down the mountain, then I run, then it ususally takes me 20 minutes to get back up because the last thing I want to do after a long run is walk back up a mountain.
11:30-12:30- Grab bag
In this time I do everything else that I need to get done while I still have personal time. I shower, check emails, write lesson plans, chat with Haeyoung, make lunch.
12:30 pm- Lunch
1-5 pm- Supervise
The kids have to do their homework and their chores in the afternoon. Then they can play. My job is to walk around the Villa and count to make sure that all the kids are accounted for. I also help the kids study in this time and hang out with them once they've finished their chores.
5-6:30- Dinner
I hang out in the kitchen and help the older girls cook. Translation: I watch them make the food and "taste-test". It's a great job! 6 pm is dinner and then dishes.
6:30-8- Family Time
We hang out in the living room and play games (Checkers and Uno are favorites), listen to music, sing, tell stories, etc. Sometimes when we don't have electricity, we make a fire. Basically we just hang around as a family before bedtime.
8-9:30 pm- To the bedroom
At 8 we pray together and then head off to bed. I share a room with the 4 youngest girls (Paola, Kimberly, Lesli, and Carmen). We goof off and dance around and tell stories. It's really quite fun acting like a teenage girl! I never had to share a room growing up, and I never thought I'd end up sharing one with 4 girls, but I'm having a blast!
9:30(ish) pm- Lights Out
The best thing about getting up at 5 am (besides having time with God) is that we get to go to bed early! This definitely didn't happen when I was in the University!
So there you go. 24 years old and a "mother/older sister" to 13 kids.
I never EVER would have imagined my daily schedule as the one above but I have learned to love it and embrace it.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Jericho Visitors Part VI
Sungduk Kim (South Korea)
This is the last Jericho Visitors blog…well for now anyways. I know, even I’m a bit overwhelmed at how many people passed through the Villa in such a short amount of time.
But this visitor is still here at the Villa, and he’s more like family than a visitor.
Sungduk is one of Haeyoung’s closest friends and is here in Honduras for the fourth time. Sungduk’s first trip was in 1998 before Jericho was even official!
Sungduk came in January and during his time here, managed to revamp our entire website! This time, he is back to visit and we were thrilled when he arrived with Haeyoung on July 18th.
Sungduk is absolutely fantastic with the kids, no matter what age. The little girls love him because he is so gentle and attentive to them, the boys love to go hiking and play soccer with him (he has so much energy), and the older girls enjoy spending time practicing languages with him.
Since Sungduk is a professor at a university in Korea, he is on break until the end of August and we’re so glad that he’ll be here for another month. He’s definitely an answer to prayers, since Eduardo leaves on Saturday to study in Dallas, TX.
What I’ve learned from Sungduk is that good friends stick by your side for anything. Sungduk decided to come back to the Villa when he heard how sick Haeyoung had been. Over 21 hours on a plane to make time for a good friend.
God gives us friends for a reason: to bless us, encourage us, and help us stand when things get hard.
(Sungduk and I at Picacho, a park outside of Tegucigalpa)
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Jericho Visitors Park V
Susan and John Tyler (Virgina, USA)
Just when we thought we couldn’t be any more blessed, the Tyler’s arrived!
Susan Tyler and her son John came just in time to help out with our international festival, and just left today. This was another exciting visit for me since Susan’s daughter Laura and I met here in Honduras in 2008.
Laura and John came last year for a week, and John had a huge burden to come back this year. I’m so thankful that Susan decided to join him.
John just graduated high school and is a huge hit with the boys. I don’t know how many hours he spent playing soccer, hiking, or just hanging out with them but the boys have never slept so well at night!
John also has a huge heart to know the Lord more and to share his life with others.
Susan was wonderful as well. She is a first grade teacher and was so gentle with the kids. She had an automatic connection with the kids and really understood them. Susan also has a gift with words and is awesome and giving encouragement!
And as well, Susan has a big heart for missions and teaching others how to connect with the Lord.
Susan and John spent a lot of time teaching our kids about prayer, journaling, and how to reach out to the nations. It was a good lesson for all of us. After all, very soon our kids could be missionaries all over the world!
Susan and John taught me so much about continuing to have a heart for the nations. And that “going to the nations” does not always mean actually going. We can support missionaries in prayer, with words of encouragement, and financially.
All Christians should have a global outlook. We can reach the nations, simply by reaching out to our neighbors.
Just when we thought we couldn’t be any more blessed, the Tyler’s arrived!
Susan Tyler and her son John came just in time to help out with our international festival, and just left today. This was another exciting visit for me since Susan’s daughter Laura and I met here in Honduras in 2008.
Laura and John came last year for a week, and John had a huge burden to come back this year. I’m so thankful that Susan decided to join him.
John just graduated high school and is a huge hit with the boys. I don’t know how many hours he spent playing soccer, hiking, or just hanging out with them but the boys have never slept so well at night!
John also has a huge heart to know the Lord more and to share his life with others.
Susan was wonderful as well. She is a first grade teacher and was so gentle with the kids. She had an automatic connection with the kids and really understood them. Susan also has a gift with words and is awesome and giving encouragement!
And as well, Susan has a big heart for missions and teaching others how to connect with the Lord.
Susan and John spent a lot of time teaching our kids about prayer, journaling, and how to reach out to the nations. It was a good lesson for all of us. After all, very soon our kids could be missionaries all over the world!
Susan and John taught me so much about continuing to have a heart for the nations. And that “going to the nations” does not always mean actually going. We can support missionaries in prayer, with words of encouragement, and financially.
All Christians should have a global outlook. We can reach the nations, simply by reaching out to our neighbors.
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