This Too Shall Pass

I have some free time so I thought I would share what happened last night.

Each year towards the end of May, we get a good rain; a long afternoon of moderate rain. It's the kick-off to about four months of rain. And then after the rain, they come...



...thousands of them.

They come out of the wood, where they've been living (driven out by the rain) and try to enter the house by any means possible (cracks under the doors, the fireplace, a window that hasn't been installed properly).

In Spanish they are called palomillas and since I am quite certain that they don't exist in the States, I don't know the English name for them. But to give you a visual, imagine ants with wings.


Last night they came.

I should have seen it coming. It's the end of May, we had a long rain, I should have known it was coming. Within a few minutes of the end of the rainstorm, they were upon us. We ran shouting to the doors to beat the palomillas and limit how many of them got inside. And we donned hats and scarves to keep them from trying to attack our ears, mouths, and noses.


And then, just like that, they were gone.

Thankfully these palomillas have weak wings that fall off after a few hours. The "flying ants" fall to the earth where they live only a few minutes without their wings. Then we are left with the aftermath...thousands and thousands (seriously, I am not exaggerating) of wings and bodies of these palomillas.


This too shall pass.

Since I experienced the palomillas last May, my response this year was less shocked. I knew that within a few hours, these palomillas would pass.

This too shall pass.
It's a piece of wisdom that I'm learning bit by bit out here at the Villa.

No light? This too shall pass.
No water? This too shall pass.
Frustrations? This too shall pass.
Homesickness? This too shall pass.
Kids being uncooperative? This too shall pass.
Broken toe? This too shall pass.

(I think you get the picture)

I have learned that I am not just here in Honduras to serve the ministry. I am also here to learn and grow and mature and be molded into the person that God wants me to be. And each experience here (the good, the bad, and the ugly) brings me one step closer to this goal.


And although I do sometimes get frustrated, or reach my limit, I can remind myself that "this too shall pass". It always does, it always will, and I always come out stronger.

Here are some pictures, although you can't really see how many there truly were.

Above: The frogs had a field day, eating up the palomillas as they fell to the ground!
Below: Palomillas flying just above the roof of the Villa.

Miss Independent

Katie Hutjens

Miss Independent

Taxi Rider

Yup...that's me!

I was talking to a friend the other day and she asked me where I would want to live when I returned to the United States in December.

I had to think for a while and then came up with the response:

"I don't know, I could live anywhere"
I guess that is basically true. After 1.5 years of living at the Villa, I can live in pretty much any situation:
-no water
-no electricity
-no water or electricity
-"flying ant" invasion
-no car
-no water, no electricity, no car
(do you see a pattern?)

My patience has increased, my impatience has decreased, and I've learned that I can handle just about anything. Laughter keeps me sane!

But for having experienced so much here in Honduras, there was one task left to conquer...
...the Honduran Taxi System.

After 2 summers and then 1.5 years in Honduras, I had never ridden in a taxi alone. Not so much that it was unsafe (although it can be if you're not smart), but because I never really had a reason to take a taxi, and I was rarely alone.

Enter an early morning and a day off. I was on my day off, staying at Betsy's house but I had to be at Jericho by about 10:30 to go back to the Villa.
As I saw it, I had two options:
1. Go to Jericho at 6 am with everyone, and then sit around for 4.5 hours.
2. Sleep in, enjoy my morning cup of coffee, and take a taxi.

Marlyn and I discussed it (serious discussion) and decided that I would take the taxi.

I DID IT!
And I did it! I flagged down a taxi, negotiated prices, and then directed the driver through the streets of Tegucigalpa to get to Jericho.

And although this may sound like overkill, I cannot explain how excited I was to arrive at Jericho. In my mind, I had finally conquered Tegucigalpa and I did it alone, without anyone to help me through in case I messed up. Plus, I didn't get charged the "gringo" price which is a big victory!

Lesson learned: What I learned from my little taxi ride is that I am more independent than I thought I was, and I can do more than I think I can. Go ahead, jump with both feet...you'll hit the ground running!