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.
Monday, November 14, 2011
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.
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