Crab Hunting

Under a bright full moon on a breezy dark night we headed off to the shoreline with a group of children armed with flashlights and a big flour sack. Amid the washed up debris and mangrove trees, under abandoned buildings and an old dock, we were on a mission to hunt for crabs.  Imagine being 5 -7 years old and participating as a primary means of hunting crabs, fishing and diving for conch so your family might have enough to eat. With all the fun to be had, for these kids this wasn't just about a good time, but the possibility of good dinner the next day.   I wish I could describe in words so you could hear the voices of the children, their island dialect and cheering, their encouragement to one another and the slightly poetic grammatical flow of the island.  It's not easy for little hands to apprehend big carbs with giant pinching claws.  It's quite a clamorous event, but once the crab is contained and proudly dropped into the flour sack, little faces swell with pride and boast of how big that one was while others offer their congratulating agreement. 


It’s hard to believe, but we have reached that day where the 1 month countdown has begun.  Flights are booked out of Roatan on November 23rd.  It struck me as I sat on the wood deck with the kids before school playing UNO how much I am going to miss them, and it seems strange at this point to step away from Helene and in just a few hours return to a completely different place. Hair dryers come to mind.  And this is the longest I’ve ever gone without driving a car.  

Some afternoons a child will just ask to do Bible study with, desiring to just sit on the deck and read verses together.  Partnerships with churches in the US are leading to increased discipleship and pastoral training for leaders in the island. And more than ever I see how God has put his people in a body, put us together to be unified for His purpose of making his glory and kingdom known throughout the earth.   

English school is in the middle of finals this week.  We are waiting for the rainy season to begin any day now, and thankfully the clinic has slowed down after a few weeks of rampant illness throughout the island of varying diagnoses.  I was not exempt and found myself knocked off my feet for a few days, just when a team from my home church came into town.  Regardless, what a wonderful week it was, full of laughter, song and a little dancing.  The team hosted a singing contest which brought the largest turnout from all over the island than any event anyone could remember.  

As we wrap up in the coming weeks for a visit to family and friend, I am also making preparations and looking ahead.  I believe God is calling me to stay in Helene so my time in the states will be full of many things.  I ask you to pray with me and our team as we prepare for the transitions ahead and as we seek Jesus to show us his plans for the coming year, make a way for financial provision, and direct us in how HE desires to work in the island and in us.  Thank you for your prayers, partnership and support  as you share in the ministry here in Helene.  

Generator lessons

“Most people who become missionaries have an adventuresome streak in them, a fascination with the unknown, a readiness to undertake things they were not prepared to do. It’s good that they have, because very few missionaries know beforehand what they are actually getting into.  In one way, missionaries end up doing much less than they are trained to do; that is, they usually are not able to use all their technical skills in the countries to which they are sent. On the other hand, they frequently end up doing much more than they are trained to do, usually outside their own fields” (from Don’t Let the Goats Eat the Loquat Trees by missionary surgeon Thomas Hale who tells about serving Jesus in the rural mountains of Nepal in the 1970s.  Quote on pg 140 in case you want to read the book).    

Today was one of these days for me.  My freshman year of college I took two semesters of physics.  It was blast, but I have to admit I don’t remember a lot of the particulars, especially second semester, but I recall do recall that we did a unit on circuits and electricity and stuff. What’s my job title in Helene? I have none. It’s simply joining Jesus in whatever’s on his agenda for the day. Today it was working on the generator. Who’d of thought!  

There is no city water or electricity or anything of that sort in Helene.  We pump water from a well and run a series of generators so we can make clean drinking water, run the medical clinic and school and keep groceries cold in the sometimes 3-4 weeks between shopping trips on another island.  It’s also very nice on very hot and humid nights to have a fan.  We have been very blessed this year, and while the guys have put in countless hours to keep us up and running, overall, the generators haven’t been down too much.  There’s a big one and a smaller one.  The idea is to always have a backup. Yesterday both were down which is a bummer, but thankfully the main one was functioning by the end and so today the project was diagnosing the back-up one.  I really appreciated Larry’s reminder that we turn our hearts to the Lord and enjoy and glorify him in the midst of whatever we’re doing.  That even fixing generators can be a time of worshipping Jesus.  

I really don’t understand much of it, though I’m learning; something about needing to create a DC field on the output side so it would put out voltage...so we fabricated a 3 volt charger and went out to the generator house.  Larry had just been on the phone with a tech in the states who stressed connecting the fields correctly.  The right wires could save us from buying a new generator; the wrong ones and the thing is toast. At first we can’t even find a marking anywhere on the two wires coming out..then we find out that the wires are marked in Chinese!  Thanks for working internet connections and google!  Never would have thought that I’d been looking up Chinese translations while working on a generator in Honduras.  Oh the possibilities!  Well, it eventually got very dark and we are still trying to find out what else is wrong.  But since we did need power, it was time to turn on the other, main, generator (I refer to it as “the beast”).  

Now, giant engines that make awful noises and are full of combustible materials make me nervous.  At this point though Larry said he’d like me to start the beast.  I’m thinking flipping the switch like before. Oh no.  Basically the thing needs to be hot wired. He hands be an old oil-covered long screwdriver with a rubber handle and points to a little spot where a series of connectors and wires are in close proximity. Instructions: put the tip of the metal in a small hole-like space to make contact with the positive, then “intentionally”  tilt back the shaft of the screw driver till it makes contact with the other connection, being sure not to ouch the shaft of the screwdriver,....no one mentioned that sparks that would fly and the great ruckus that would follow.  It took two tries as I was caught a bit by surprise on the first go, but proud and relieved to say that the beast was up and running on try #2 and nothing blew up, or was zapped in the process. 

Well, more fun to be had, but once things were powered up for the night we settled in on the deck with the kids and laughed our way through a showing of Tangled before calling it a day.  Now all that’s left is a trip out to see the stars, rest in the provision and love of Jesus and say “good night”.

Children's Day in Jericho

Tomorrow is Quince here in Honduras (the equivalent of the 4th of July basically), thus the week has been full of all sorts of events and happenings to celebrate.  Last week on Flag day all the children on the island walked down to one end around dusk and when it was dark, sparkling lanterns of wood and colored cellophane were carried as drummers drummed and children sang, all the way down the path. It was charming and beautiful.  One of the big things that happens during Quince week is Children’s Day. The Spanish school celebrated on Tuesday this week, which meant no school on the English campus ,and since it was pouring down rain, we enjoyed the cool weather, a day off, and loads of homemade pizza.  

Our Children’s Day celebrations took place Thursday afternoon and what an event it was!  Piñatas (and you’ve never seen a piñata happen like it does here!), games, crafts, songs, food, legos, prizes, candy, loads of cake...and, if I may so, the best station, Bible story.  Now, don’t write me off just yet.  I don’t say that just because it sounds “good” or because I was in charge of this station.  Let’s just say that we had a very special visitor come to share our story with us as we were transported back to the wilderness and invited into Joshua’s tent as he told us of the God who saves and how God gave the people the city of Jericho, not by swords but by His own work.  So the particulars?  I used some liquid adhesive from the medical clinic usually used for steri-strips with sutures to glue on a felt mustache and beard.  Then kinder room was transformed with a Bedouin tent complete with these awesome rugs that totally looked like they came right off the caravan.  I think God delighted at least as much, if not more, in the whole ordeal, even down to the details of the rugs sitting in the corner right when I needed them. The 1st grade room became Jericho with a pulley system of sorts that when pulled knocked over all the cardboard stones on the top of the walls (i.e overturned tower of desks).  The absolute best group of kids were the 3-5 year olds. They were so into it.  We were in Joshua’s tent for all we knew - they were 100% absorbed. It’s a story I know. I could tell it. But living through it with the kids in that tent this week God truly brought out so much of his determination to love and save his people.  That he continues to do so and that he is so good and powerful.  The kids loved it.  The teachers loved it.  And the theatrics of the whole thing just made me giddy. There’s still a few kids who have no idea who the stranger was :-)

Soccer games and sign language

The afternoon was slipping toward evening as we took a walk on a path by the sea, still rough from the thunder storm last night.  Turning off to go through a small cluster of homes, we had just finished over at the soccer field watching the ladies’ community team in a match.  I heard a squeal and turned to see the biggest smile and an adorable two year old rushing toward me with arms out-stretched before I caught him up and tossed him in the air, ending with a big hug.  I was dropping off some antibiotics.  In form with the way of life here there are fewer degrees of separation between tasks, time and roles, so while out recreating with friends it is perfectly normal to also make medical house calls as needed. He’s had a pretty solid chest cold.  But what a miracle that little boy is!  Two weeks ago he was resuscitated after being found drowned in the ocean and by all accounts it is the merciful hand of Jesus that spared him.  

About a month ago I was reacquainted with the family and learned that this little guy is deaf.  Yesterday we had our first “session” of sign together.  Bubbles, picture books and about 7 neighbor kids all scrambling to get him to sign “more” so I’d launch another puff of sticky bubbles.  He will have more teachers than he will know what to do with.  Excited to see Jesus work in this.  Praying about how to connect the other deaf individuals here together and to the community for as of yet they do not have the same involvement and belonging as their peers.  

A walk in the park

School is underway.  I got to help the 4th graders with long division today. Getting to pull out of class with Ms. Brittany has more to do with with the attention than with the math, and I love it!  Plus it gives the teachers in the classes fewer students so they too can pour more love and attention into each individual kid.  The 5th and 6th grade boys brought their machete's to school today.  Nothing's wrong. In fact, it's a great thing!  A community effort is under way to clear out the bush and jungle on the land next to the clinic for a small soccer field and park. So the kids got a free day from uniforms and are getting out of class an hour early to be part of the project.  And they are stoked!  Last night a group of boys and some ladies from the community, in a matter of hours, cleared a huge track of the land in impressive style.  We are all looking forward to watching the kids play in the park.  (I will admit I am not used to watching our rambunctious 11 year olds swing 2 foot blades, whacking away at everything in sight, and I hope not to have to open the clinic today.  We go on in hope!)  Here's to the fun!

Homecomings and Independence

Thursday afternoon, the last day of the 4 day school week here, we celebrated the 4the of July and welcomed home our director and his wife who'd been ministering in India for a month. What a party!  Each class pooled together and some of the mother's backed tasty treats.  Cake and doughnuts were passed out for almost an hour straight until everything was gone. Top that off with some soda-pop and extra sweet Tang, and it was mayhem in the best sense possible.  But what fun to hear those kids sing songs!  The teachers opted to sing God Bless America for us.

I spent most of the later afternoon in the medical clinic. Seemed every kiddo in the school had some bump or scrape. At one time there were 6 little ones all crowed around to watch. There are some nasty thorns that the kids get in their hands, feet, or heads from time to time that work themselves deep.  We did our best. I'm not on the hunt for some topical anesthetic.  One little gal, she had one real legit cut up knee, but as for the rest of the ailments, I think it had more to do with the one on one attention, and love than anything else.  And I'm perfectly content to give out bandages and kiss cut fingers and pray with these kids, speaking over them that they are precious, loved and meaningful.  I smile hearing a little 6 year old say "Aye, Britt-ny, girl"! with that amazing island accent as she stood up to the pain better than I thought she would. Just when it was all cleaned up and everyone shuttled out the door I heard the now familiar "Miss Brittany!!!" A beautiful little 7 year old had been running with the rambunctious, sugar-filled crew and ate it on the path.  So scooped her up and it was back to the clinic.  She'll be fine. Skinned knees and gravel in her palms, but nothing that won't heal up.  Probably more hurtful was the harsh reprimand from an onlooker when she came up bleeding and sobbing.  She's a little kid full of sugar after a party! I think she's suppose to be playing tag and having a good time.   It's a lot easier to mend a scraped knee than a hurt heart.  Independence day. Freedom.  Freedom of soul, freedom from shame.  I want so much for these kids to know that they are loved, that God has a plan for their lives, and that they can be free to become all that he purposes for them.

North-side vs. South-side

Down a path through thick island jungle to a small cleared out soccer field under the hot midday sun all the students from both the North-side and South-side Spanish schools were having a soccer match.  What fun to be in the middle of it!  Bare feet and socks for those without shoes and such energy from the excited crowd.  In the middle of it I look down and a little boy has sidled up alongside me. When I put my arm around him and say hello, he leans in for a long hug.  I love the moments I get to love on these kids.  The highlight of yesterday was sitting on the deck looking up at the kids on the benches as I doled out bandaids to every miniscule cut and prickle and sliver.  Kissed fingers and giggles: it was grand.  It's in those moments I just drink deeply of amazement and wonder. God loves these kids so much and I get to be a part of it.  

One afternoon

Walking down a dusty path a woman runs up to me and says I must come.  I don’t have my medical bag with me, this was suppose to just be a pleasant walk out in the community.  I follow a growing crowd of onlookers over a rickety boardwalk to a small house over the shallow water.  Inside is an elderly man who has been ill for some time.  And today he’s very sick.  Making a quick appraisal of the situation, it was back to the clinic to call doctors and discuss arrangements and possible causes.  Over the course of the next 24 hours as we awaited the doctor and transportation to the hospital, I dressed wounds, placed an IV while other team members lent assistance, and marveled at the care and sweet attention of God. 

In a giant world on an obscure island in a tucked away community in a simple house lay a man who was sick.  And God moved multiple individuals and put us all in place so that as he pleased he could serve this man. That there would be someone to bandage his wounds and ease his discomfort. That someone would keep a cool damp cloth on his head and pray with him. That we would hear his praise to the Lord for his health in the midst of obvious discomfort.  I am awed by Jesus and his compassion.  I don’t always understand the circumstances, but His love is sure and his redemption promised.  

Movies on the porch and dinnertime surgery

The full moon illuminates the sea in a silver glow. It’s bright enough to walk the path tonight.  I’ve had the privilege the last few weeks to work alongside a doctor not only getting to learn more how to help those who come to the clinic, but also enjoying the opportunity to sit and chat with more people along the path as we made rounds daily into the community to see those who have a hard time making it to us.  So we’ve drained boils, sutured severed fingers and pulled a bullet from an ankle.  One of the fingers was the worst.  First time any of my suturing learning opportunities has almost made me queasy.  It didn’t help that it came directly on the tail of a going away dinner for the family who has been with us these last few weeks.  Nonetheless it is a joy to serve here.  Officially finished the 10 week training and study portion and now have moved into a staff position, which in actually means very little change in daily life.  I just don’t have hours of reading due each week...though come to think of it I think I have a paper I need to still write...

I think a few of my favorite moments the last few days have been having a little boy fall asleep in my arms while we watched a movie out on the open air deck.  With Zookeeper projected on the side of the building, there was nowhere else in the world that could have been better than sitting on the floor of the wood deck with this little guy.  Double joy when a few nights later he once again nestled in during Nemo.  This evening while a group of children played games on the deck I found myself sitting with a lady I hadn’t yet met, and we just got to talk and laugh together for a while enjoying a cool breeze and the beauty of the night.  That cool breeze is much welcome.  It gets a bit humid and hot from time to time, but I am grateful not to be too bothered by this.  We’ve been having some generator trouble for which you can pray, but so blessed that there is a fan at night.  My house becomes more and more home day by day.  

I’d been meaning to post something and wanted to share with you some things that Jesus has been showing me lately, so I kept putting off a post until I could put all that together coherently, but alas, that does not seem to be happening; the weeks get away from me. So here are some tidbits and the deeper reflections will just have to come later; too tired for that now.  

In the last few weeks another new adventure would be the English classes we are leading on a nearby island.  The 25 of so Honduran men who attend vary greatly in their English skills, but all are eager to learn more, so gracious to help me with my poor Spanish when I try to explain something, and all and all it’s a wonderful time.  We go through our usual full day and twice a week rush off right when the afternoon school gets out, going over to the island by way of a small boat.  Some nights the sea has been quite rough. We usually leave with the sunset behind us, then return under a canopy of stars, phosphorescent algae or something of that sort being stirred up in the wake of the boat like fireflies diving in the waves.  Other nights the sea is still and the moon so bright you can actually see the different shades in the water made by the black coral or white sand underneath as we go skimming through he shallow water inside the reef.  In the daylight these same areas turn the most brilliant shades of turquoise.

Well, time to call it a day.  I haven’t been sleeping much, but feel very sustained, praise the Lord.  Some visitors leave tomorrow and other folks arrive; every day is new and things are always changing and in flux.  I’ve been overseeing more and more of the kitchen administration during visiting groups.  After putting in the inventory to the director today I’ll wait to see what is available down-island when he shops tomorrow; then it’s time to create a menu for the next 42 meals with whatever items are available and come back o the boat.  

Life on a Monday

April is coming to a close and every day continues press us further to trust and know Jesus, to live another otherwise unpredictable day, and join God in what he is doing in, around and through us.  Today Hosea 6:3 is on on my mind “Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord”.  I default to striving.  I so often can default to trying to live the life I believe I “ought” to live.  Trying so hard to obey a rule, please someone, achieve something, be something.  You don’t arrive at being something by doing something.  The doing comes out of your being, not the other way around.  I am also so prone to forget things I learn.  I want to obey God, but trying to was wrought with frustration and it seemed burdensome, joyless... But once again, I had it backwards; and so, ever so patiently, the Spirit is reminding me: know the Lord. Press on to know him.  To know him is to meet his character and in knowing we begin to trust which leads us to love him which leads to doing what he desires.  Obedience, then, is the fruit of knowing him.  It begins with who God is and what he does.  Then, as Acts 17:28 says “In Him we live and move and have our being”.  Finally, lastly, we get to what we do, how we live, the actions of faith.  But we can’t just go about in our own effort to do something in order to prove our worth, love or faith to God. He invites us to know him, to abide in him, to find our identity in Him; then He will lead us to live the life for which we were created, the one that is most satisfying, true and right.  There is then this amazing effect, that in as he leads us to obey, and we do so, we come to know him even more and the relationship deepens ever still.  

Saturday I enjoyed a very pleasant birthday.  Missed friends and family of course, but so blessed to have a relaxing day and at the end, two new friends surprised me with cake and gifts, the most precious being their offer of friendship and the few hours we spent together laughing, sharing in life and getting to hear a bit more of each other’s stories.  Be praying with us (and for me!):  we have been invited to a neighboring island to lead some ESL classes.  Now, I am not fluent in Spanish by any means, but since I know more than 75% of my team I get the privilege to be the point person for this.  I’m very much looking to it.   I expect it to be a challenge, for that is how we grow and where we recognize the end of ourselves and get to see God do great things.  I also hope to improve my own level of conversational spanish, and to see God raise up a unified community.  There are multiple tensions between different people groups and families in this eclectic part of the world and we watch to see God’s plans unfold.  As a team we were talking this morning with a pastor from the area:  the gospel is about the arrival of the kingdom of God.  Life lived as it was meant to be lived. Life in this kingdom extends into every part: culture, art, science, politics, family, society.  So our daily life includes restoring communities through practical means of medical care, education, clean water, job training, English classes.  Just some musings as I start off this Monday morning.  Praying for your day.

The heart is not a brownie

“But you, Oh LORD, know me; you see me and test my heart towards you” Jeremiah 12:3

I read this the other morning. It was one of those beautiful, delicious times on the deck. The dog and two cats were lying on the patch of sunlight coming through the trees. I’d been praying and enjoying time with Jesus over a cup of coffee when these pictures started to form in my mind as the Spirit spoke to my heart.  Perhaps you can identify with this. 

Sometimes (in error) I have conceptualized God’s testing of my heart like he is trying to push me till I break; finding all the weakest and most vulnerable places. Deeply I was believing a lie that God isn’t good nor does he act for my good, as in this scenario He has little involvement other than putting me through the hoops (sure there are all those verses about the good stuff that testing and trial produces, but if you start out believing the lie that God isn’t really that great, then none of those promises sound all that great either).  Then this other picture: God’s testing of us also isn’t like sticking a toothpick in the brownies while they are baking.  “Is she done yet?”  Like at some point the beating and baking, trials and testing, will produce something he will find pleasing (which might be true, but I was in error on the process and his involvement).  What then instead filled my mind was a picture of the most brilliant of engineers and inventors in the middle of sparks flying, molten steel, hammers crashing, huge beams being raised up on cranes and giant machines groaning as they lift massive loads from white-hot furnaces...He’s attending to a billion and one things, and yet at moments he’s looking through a magnifying glass making fine adjustments on a delicate piece he holds in his palm.  The air is electric with the passion, dedication and joy of this artist.  With each test he runs, he’s making his creation a little closer to perfection. With each trial, he is finding out where it breaks down and then actively removing that point of weakness to make it all the more magnificent.  He has this glorious end in mind and his project requires that things be melted and molded, then refined down and hammered, pressed and polished, cut and fine-tuned.  But all of it is done because he loves what he does and loves what he creates, all with a great, good, and perfect end in mind.  

"Oh taste and see that the Lord, He is good!" Psalm 34:8

The delicious morning tasted that much sweeter. I encourage you to hang out in Psalm 63 as a post script. 

Sunrises and Sunsets

“From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name of the LORD is to be praise.” Psalm 113:3

On a sunny Caribbean morning rushing about getting ready for the team, this Psalm was on my mind.  Excited to meet the people God was bringing to our island and to see what he would do among us and around us, I thought is was a fitting verse given the name of the church, that they were coming from the west coast to our little place on the Point where you see the sun rise over the sea. From sunrise to sunset, the Lord shall be praised.  Seeing God work in so many ways as the week unfolded, hearing of God’s work in the individual stories of each person as they live within God’s great story of redemption,  laughing my guts out at times, weeping at others.  

Those words, however, of praising and trusting God who is good and faithful, from sunrise to sunset, took on another layer of meaning this week.  The doctor, who God graciously sent here for this week, and I were called to the see the baby of a friend.  Despite doing what we could, even sending her off-island for further help, this week we read in a church program her sunrise and her sunset, the days of her birth and her death.  To attend the wake, to sit together, to cry, to listen to her mother sing at the funeral, to walk down the path along the still sea behind the coffin and up the long hill to the cemetery.  Even in these moments, we rely on the love of Jesus, the comfort of His Spirit. So on Good Friday I kept thinking of a Father who knows the suffering and pain of losing a son, who gave his only son, who also watched a walk to a tomb.  

“Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows, yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace and with his wounds we are healed.  All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned -  every one - to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”  Isaiah 53:4-6

Cockroaches, Monkeys and Fire Alarms

I’ve just plopped down into a big chair in my living room.  Thankfully the wind has picked up outside to cool down a rather hot day. It feels so amazing to sit down! It’s been a busy week. Anyone else glad it is Friday?  We are prepping for a big team coming down. They are in route already and will arrive sometime mid-afternoon tomorrow.  So excited for their arrival, but also savoring the night: A walk into one community to pick up some dinner and chat at a little cafe, then dinner conversation and hanging out before topping off the evening with The Princess Bride.

I have been thinking a lot of Moses and the plagues in Egypt the last few days.  My living space here is alright, but it was time to treat the downstairs for bugs...so over the last few days the floor has become littered with roaches each morning, particularly in the kitchen. Lovely.  So as we clean from top to bottom in preparations, I spent the morning in the kitchen attending to the carnage and other business.  I’m not sure if from all the rearranging going on or from the pesticides, but we had a huge scorpion in the living room late last night in attack mode.  Successfully defended my roommate, however I then proceeded to yell and flap my arms while hopping about the house as a means of debriefing from that situation. Those critters give me the heebie-jeebies!

In other things, God walked me through a later night in the clinic resulting in 12 stitches in an arm.  Branching out of my usual assigned tasks this week also took me into the school where I was helping with some testing.  The teachers are evaluating new students for placement and there were some beautiful kiddos from the Spanish school that needed some help so I got to be back in the classroom for a little while. I look forward to more of that; such good times past. I was also on smoke-detector duty this week, installing and testing all the alarms.  There were two that none of us could get to sound when tested and the manual said in such cases to discard the detector.  Well, when the trash went to the burn-pit today, we found out they did, in fact, work.  Too late for the smoke detectors at that point, but how we laughed while the burn pile shrieked to let us know that yes, there was indeed smoke out there.  It helped brighten our mid-day moral (that and giant spoonfuls of peanut butter all around).  In the afternoon, you’d have thought it was Christmas.  I was cleaning out the clinic (I’m so nervous to open cupboards for fear of creepy-crawlies sometimes) when I happened upon a number of items that we had been needing.  Oh I was so overjoyed to find things like gloves, coban and tongue depressors.  It’s the little things in life! 

So to close out this week, I wanted to share a little story with you.  We’re discussing our way through Cross Cultural Connections.  I find the book great for much more than moving to another country and community. There are so many points that are applicable to even being around one’s own family!  Sometimes I wonder about what is it exactly that I’m doing, what is really of eternal significance you might say, when so much of it is just observing and absorbing, learning about the culture.  This happens any time I move, but I’m more acutely aware of it here, in part because we are daily discussing things that come up or just getting doused with a situation that arose because of not understanding something. I am so prone to be a “doer”.  Check things off lists, finish tasks, do something.  But sometimes God tells us essentially, “Don’t just do something, stand there” (Henry Blackaby).  Sometimes we really need more than anything else to stop doing and just be.  To stand still with God, to be with him. To let him work in us what we are becoming.  Also, how can we hope to speak life and encouragement to a group of people when we don’t know what would be meaningful to them? How do we put the Gospel into context if we don’t take time to learn what context we are in?  Perhaps you’ll travel somewhere, maybe be part of an outreach team of some sort, stay with someone in another country or meet someone right at home who comes from a different context.  I’ve enjoyed this story and I will, I’m sure, be looking for ways that I or others portray the “monkey” in us; here you go:

“A typhoon had temporarily stranded a monkey on an island. In a secure, protected place, while waiting for the raging waters to recede, he spotted a fish swimming against the current.  It seemed obvious to the monkey that the fish was struggling and in need of assistance. Being of kind heart, the monkey resolved to help the fish.  A tree precariously dangled over the very spot where the fish seemed to be struggling. At considerable risk to himself, the monkey moved far out on a limb, reached down and snatched the fish from the threatening waters. Immediately scurrying back to the safety of his shelter, he carefully laid the fish on dry ground.  For a few minutes the fish showed excitement, but soon settled into a peaceful rest.  Joy and satisfaction swelled inside the monkey. He has successfully helped another creature” (Duane Elmer).

Lots of application, I think.  So take some time to just be - experience and enjoy God, listen and engage with people around you with an open and genuine heart, and let’s see how this goes. 

Month 1 and random bits

In the middle of the night there was a commotion out on the path somewhere that abruptly pulled me from a deep sleep. I honestly was waiting for someone to pound on the clinic door and yell that there was an emergency.  But soon the voices faded away. It was good that I was awake though.  I was all jittery by then and was not going back to sleep easily when I heard my name faintly through the breeze.  Someone was down below loudly whispering my name.  It was the neighbor; there was an emergency.  Down to the clinic.  In that hour or so between being wakened and hearing my name called, I had been praying.  Last week when I was off island there was a big medical issue but it was taken care of down-island since we weren’t here, and due to the issues involved, that was best by far.  On this night though, I was praying, telling my mind and heart to trust.  Jesus knows what I can handle, and I feel it’s often less than he thinks I can. I just asked for a lot of grace in the clinic. And there was. Turned out to be a small thing medically, more than anything an opportunity to just love on a neighbor and pray for her baby.  Nonetheless at 2am I was rather awake so spent some time with my sketchbook and journal over a bowl of coco-puffs.

So one of my favorite movies when I was a kid was the Newsies. There’s a line in there, “I spent a month there one night”.  Well my roommate and I can identify. It is unbelievable where the days go.  I’m not sure why I am always so exhausted.  Life in the moment, taking whatever comes up those steps or down the path.  This first month seems to have flown by. My hope and prayer is for opportunity to graft into the community more.  Doing things is all well and good; there’s always more to do and it’s good stuff. But my heart is to be in relationship with people. Work in the clinic, helping in the school, doing classes and Bible studies - it is all great stuff, but the goal isn’t to check off a bunch of tasks each day. My heart longs to be in community; to do life with my neighbors to whatever extent possible. I want to hear their stories. I want to share meals or walks down the path. I want to know their names and family tree.  Had an interesting conversation with a pastor from another Caribbean island last night. So interesting to see this culture through his eyes.  So much to learn.  

In the training portion of life, we are going through some amazing materials.  I love the congruity of the Spirit: similar themes appearing in multiple sources, even one’s from other places than here.  For example we spent two hours Saturday morning going through a class/discussion on world view, truth claims, postmodernism, and assumptive language.  I came back to my room for a little rest time and listened to a sermon from a church back in Phoenix. The content was so parallel to the morning.  Good stuff. 

Looking at the upcoming weeks:  We have this week to prepare and then a big group coming in for a week to do various projects around the community. It’s wonderful but tiring to have a team here.  We have later nights, busier days, and very little personal/down time.  Along with that, I am very blessed to have a doctor also coming in that same week.  I want to spend all the time I can in the clinic and pray to absorb information in a supernatural way.  That means that this week I hope to get ahead of my usual curriculum requirements so that I can devote as much time as possible to the clinic during the doctor week.  So it’s going to be a bit busy.  But in all that, always ready to stop and sit and spend time with people. Prayerful that I am on God’s agenda each day and not my own.  

The wind is gusty tonight.  Wish I could share withe you the beauty of this night. Sunset from the prayer deck was fantastic.  Took a walk to the far end of the island (about 4 miles round trip from the clinic).  It was gorgeous standing at the end of a long dock as if walking off into the edge of world over turquoise water, the gentle tide blowing the sea grass in the shallows. The generator has been running great, thanks to a new bank of batteries and generous hearts.  It’s amazing how sometime so simple as dependable electricity in the clinic or even my home takes off a little pressure.  I’d be happy if I don’t have to do any more stitches by flashlight, although it does make for a story.  Thank you for your prayers, letters and generosity.  You’re faithfulness is invaluable. It’s powerful and encouraging. Love to you all.

Thoughts from a boat

I found myself sitting on the bottom of a small boat racing towards Roatan and the hospital. The ride seemed to be taking so much longer at that moment.  A sheet covered my patient who was laying next to me on the floor of the boat on a small mattress. Every now and then I’d pull back the sheet that was shading him from the unfiltered sunlight to see if he was still conscious.  There was very little else to do as the boat slapped against the sea.  I stared up at the hot sky and prayed. How to I process this?  How do I respond! Injury had been caused to another out of anger.  I ached deeply, knowing that the blow was dealt by someone familiar and the painful sobs I’d heard from this boy spoke more of the injury to the soul than to the head.  Jesus? What do I do with this? How do I respond? I felt angry and overwhelmed.  

And then Jesus answered.  He knows what it is to have those near him turn against him and cause horrific pain.  He bore a crown of thorns and then men took clubs and beat down the crown upon his head, bashing those thorn into his skull.  Jesus took this moment in time upon himself.  He accepted that piercing crown, his head bled, so that the hate and hurt that caused this boy’s head to now bleed could be dealt with and forgiven. So that sin and death could be crushed. Jesus took this.  I was still sitting in the boat.  But the anger towards the one who inflicted the injury was resolved. I still hate that this happened, but I sensed a deep compassion and ache for the one who caused this.  Later that day I heard these words: “I just want to be cherished”.  Oh the things our souls were made for but from which we are so far; deceived by lies and our self-will, we abandon the safe place where things are True and right.  Only grace lets me put my arms around the one who did this, and pray with them that they might realize the love of the One who does cherish them. 

Applying the learning

Mid-afternoon on a lovely day I was hanging out at Sheila’s house at the back of our campus when Teddy came up to the open door to inform me that a little girl was at the clinic and had cut her head; it would probably need stitches.  Off to the clinic with a prayer, a young man who helps in the clinic was walking across the yard to meet me.   He knows how to do sutures but as we talked through what we might find upon examination, he voted that this one was mine.  She was such a sweet patient.  She was perfectly still and compliant, even when big tears rolled slowly down her face.  Praying all the while, gathered what I’d need and began. After all the prep, lidocaine has taken effect and I’m just getting ready to start the first stitch when the generator battery runs out and we’re left in the almost dark clinic room.   So by the flashlight on a phone, Jesus just took us through. I was amazed the way he let me speak and move with a calm that came only from grace.  Near the end the lights did come back on.  

As part of the program here we are reading through a book together called Experiencing God.  At the end of each day’s reading and work, it asks you to write out the statement or verse that most stood out to you, something to carry with you at the front of your thoughts throughout the day.  Today I was thinking about this quote: you do not have the ability to carry out the Lord’s commands except to be where he wants you to be.  With that it referenced Jeremiah 18:1-6, talking about the potter and the clay. The clay must remain in the potter’s hands, both to be formed, and to be used.  If shaped into a cup, the cup must be in his hands to be used as a cup, in the way the potter chooses.  It does nothing just sitting on a shelf autonomously. I show up where he says to go; He does the work.  “It is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose” (Phil. 2:13).  Also reading a book called Where There is No Doctor" and the responsibility to use and share whatever knowledge you acquire. In many ways today was about applying what I'm learning and sharing it. 

Clinic, training, and interruptions

A ladies event was taking place on the covered deck and all the children have been playing out on the lower deck. Suddenly Sheila calls my name and is walking toward me in a serious way.  A little boy has blood coming from his ear. There are no real hours to when the clinic is open around here.  We’re open when people show up.  What happened?  Somehow he got his head through the rails of the porch and got stuck.  When he finally got out it wasn’t without skinning his ear a bit.  But oh! He was so cute. Sweet little guy. We found a Peanuts band-aid for him, which he didn’t need nor was it appropriate to place in his ear.  But we stuck it on just so he had something fun to show off when he went back to the crowd.  

Two intense clinic moments this week: just as we are gathering for dinner, someone comes to the clinic asking for the doctor; there’s a man in Bently Bay who was out diving and is now throwing up and very sick...that’s known to be a bad sign around here where the men do some pretty intense free diving.  Bently Bay is the farthest community from the clinic. Paula jumps to gathering up everything we could need and I don our pack as we anticipate the long walk.  Horman, who helps around the clinic and drives us down-island, yells out. We jump in the boat he has already idling and speed off under the most amazing sky.  We were gloving up as we approached the house, had the oxygen tank ready...seems it was just a bad migraine.  Situation 2 occurred here on campus.  A mother brought her little 3 year old in.  He hadn’t held down any fluids for three days with vomitting and diarrhea.  Due to the level of dehydration, Paula faced a challenge in getting an IV in.  I got the task of holding him down while doing IVs, his big pleading eyes locked on mine.  

This week: suture lessons.  Lucky for us some folks on the North Side slaughtered a pig over the weekend so we had access to some specimens for practicing.  The team leaves tomorrow though and I am nervous about being the only one here at the clinic.  Everyone is being so patient with me.  

Now the team has returned home. I'm on my own at the clinic. Thankful it wasn't a very busy day.  The weather continued cool and cloudy today so not as many folks out and about.  It was great to have people here and it's great to just have a quiet evening.  The generator will be off soon and I have to go lock up the place and switch off things at the breaker box.  It's neat to be able to tell people that I'm not leaving with the team.  What a strange thing I think it would be to live in your community and every few weeks or so, a group of folks descends upon your world, often completely living in their own while here, many of them thinking how great a thing they personally are contributing to you...I spoke with one of the gentleman in the church a little today trying to get his perspective on that topic.  The response wasn't exactly to the same theme so I'm still curious.  I think I need to sit in this situation and observe, learn and ask questions.  From the outside I could give a lot of opinion, but there's a long history and deep context that I would be ignorant of to do that now.  

Enjoyed a 20 minute break on the prayer deck today in the late afternoon. I had some curriculum reading to do.  All day, everything I'd do was interrupted by something: babysitting the teacher training leader's baby, needs at the clinic, kids hanging around...so for 20 minutes I sat under scattered clouds in a breeze overlooking the islands around me...and then I was interrupted and called back to the clinic.  You never have everything you need in there.  My last patient today needs basic things like toothpaste and a razor.  I'd love to have a stack of stickers and colorful bandaids for the kids.  The lack of supplies equipment and in my case, training as of yet.  Lots of reading assignments right now.  And lots of praying.  Good training though. Even if I knew what I was doing, shouldn't I still depend on the One who holds every event and outcome in His perfect and loving hands?  

Coconut candy is a must

March 1: After a few stifling hot and muggy days the weather turned this afternoon and a cool northwestern breeze brought in big grey clouds.  Listening now to trees rustling and slow rain falling.  I may actually put on a little sweater.

This morning we made visits into the community going west out to The Bight and Bently Bay.  Lots of practice taking blood pressure and checking sugar levels.  Stopped to an elderly gentleman. His sight and hearing nearly gone, he hasn’t lost his heart.  A genuine and precious soul, he just holds my hand and at the end, as usual, when we pray for him, he then in turn prays for us.  

In the clinic this afternoon a variety of complaints and ailments.  My first week, while the Honduran doctor was here, a mother knocked on the door and asked if I could help her until the doctor could see her. Somehow her 14mo old little boy had sliced his hand on a machete blade and she needed something to help with the bleeding.  The family lives in the Bight and there’s some relationship budding. All week we’ve been helping clean and dress this little hand and today I got to remove the stitches. The mother brought us a batch of coconut candy in thanks.  (Coconut candy, as best as I can describe it is more like a macaroon than “candy”- just a bunch of yummy, gooey coconut goodness).  

On top of learning in the clinic, I’m also taking some of the load off of Larry, my director, by coordinating the kitchen and meal planning; needless to say I’m learning a ton. But it’s fun. I realize how much, when it comes to meal prep, I just wing it as I go and create and have fun with it.  The ladies who help in the kitchen are used to being told exactly what to make and pretty much how so I'm sure my learning experience is one for them as well.

In the area of interpersonal dynamics, lots of learning going on: with the staff in which I’m constantly learning rules and methods; the short term team that’s here and specifically the medical team; islanders who work with us and that I supervise; patients in the clinic; and there are kids and adults who come by to visit or sell things.  Praying to discern the real cases of need, and the number of times people tried to swindle me today.  When to speak up, and when to be silent. To act for the good of the team and not out of self preservation or fears.  So much grace in this.  Thoroughly enjoyed a late night staff meeting.  Confession, honesty, vulnerability, genuine listening...it was fantastic.  Who knew a staff meeting late at night to discuss some arising issues could be so great!

Tomorrow the short term team is off to the beach if the weather is good. I may just stay in for the day and have some respite time.  A new staff member arrives tomorrow afternoon who will be going through the 3 month training with me, so I need to get some things ready for her arrival.  And I just want to put my feet up  in the hammock for a short time with a book.  Feeling a great need to recharge.  I have a lovely stack of letters that people sent with me from home. I’m making them last as long as I can, but I think I will choose one at random tonight before I finish some chores and turn in. Thank you for your prayers.  

To make beauty

Innumerable stars bejeweled the night sky as the moon appeared, it’s deep orange glow slowly shining across the ocean.  The gentle sounds of breeze and shore.  The days have grown heavy and hot, so tonight’s cool break is a gift.  

So lots of highlights and snip-its: This week I’ve been working with two ladies in the clinic and out in the community.  The more I learn, as is often the case, the more I feel I know less than nothing!  Thankful to the gal who let me stick her with needles yesterday so I could learn to set an IV.  The cases that walk through that clinic door: anything is possible.  It’s hard when someone comes in and we do not have the right medicines or enough of what we need.  Sometimes it’s basic things like bags of saline or lidocaine to numb up a patient for stitches.  

Walked the Path to the pond, carefully stepping from slat to rotted slat on a shabby wooden dock a couple hundred feet long over shallow water filled with garbage and refuse.  Half of the dock was broken so we took the long way around.  Paula wanted to be sure we made some stops in the Pond so that the folks there, the poorest and most cast-off community, would know that we were here for them as well.  

Making things beautiful.  There is something in the soul that is captured by beauty, and I think that when we work to make something more beautiful, we are imitating the God who made us. This beautiful world is often glorious beyond what is “practical” or “useful”. Walking to the shacks in the Pond today it caught my eye: amid the dilapidated sheds on stilts was a garden.  It was really 3-4 recycled buckets/containers, but they were specifically arranged, and in them carefully tended plants were growing and blossoming.  They harken to the perfect world that Jesus intended for us, and that He will someday completely restore all things to.  In the meantime, my heart smiles at tiny bright pink blossoms in a bucket and the hope that Jesus brings.

Last night Paula, Kathleen and myself took off in the dark to walk down the Path to The Bight, a village to the west of the clinic.  A big snake slipped off into the trees as we passed on the path between the dense island bush and the sea.  We were off to see a little one with whom I will be doing therapy.  It was a precious time.  Having obtained a lot of background now about this little one, though due to the level of care there are still big gaps, it was great just to meet with Irma after all these months.  She walked us through the neighborhood to her parents home where she introduced us to family and showed off pictures, a huge smile constantly on her face.  

Other item for prayer: we have been having big generator grief today. The power has been going in and out all day. The guys have been working on it for close to 9 hours straight at this point.  Even now, well after 9pm I hear the generator power on then crash out over and again.  

(Little on the geography of my island: Along the scalloped edge of the island, in each inlet there is a community for the most part.  Around a good portion of the island is the Path. The Path is about the width of a one-lane road, very much a path though in terms of quality: large pot-holes, roots and ruts all along it.  A few bridges of planks in the low spots.  We are located on the south side of the island kinda in the middle and up the bank and across the path at an area known as The Point.  To the right while facing the sea one would pass the rest of the Point community, The Bight, Bently Bay then Rocky Point.  Traveling left from the clinic while passing a little one room elementary school, the Pentecost church and the very smell pigs, you’d pass Seco, the Pond and Mangrove Bight.  If you veered off and headed North near the elementary school, you’d go up a large hill and down again, placing you on the Northside and down a ways the Big Rock.  The homes are built around the edge of the island with a steep slope up to the “mountain”hill in the middle of the island.  At the top of this is an old wooden cross and a cellular tower.  And all over, the island is covered in thick, deep, tangled island bush composed of vines, bramble, palms, trees, ferns, flowers, etc. From the Prayer deck on top of my house or from the top of the hill by the cross, you can look out and see neighboring islands, and way off in the distance on a clear day, the silhouette of mainland Honduras.)

I’m really enjoying having this team of 6 folks here for 10 days.  But they will leave next week and I will stay.  As we laughed with the ladies from the island tonight in the kitchen making baleadas for dinner, the gals from the states were talking about their kitchens back in the States...this is my kitchen.  This is home now.  It’s been less than two weeks and just feels now like I’m here with this group. Not sure how it will feel when they leave, and I’m still here...

Interruptions

One of my favorite little pleasures: hanging freshly washed sheets out to dry in the breeze on the line while standing in some pretty spot.  It’s been a while since I was privy to such a simple but lovely experience.  It’s calm and quiet; the sun shines through the cotton that gently billows and falls. The big tree overhead, the thick bladed grass.  A cat curled up by my laundry basket.  

Sometime mid-afternoon in this busy day of cleaning and preparing a group of little boys knocked on the door asking for a drink.  (folks often stop by on their way down the path and do this).  They were not expecting me to answer the door.  We have been so busy getting ready for the team coming in this weekend that I haven’t been out into the community yet.  They wanted to play with the small foosball board.  Toys and games are not lent out unsupervised.  So my tasks aside, I sat on the front deck with them for an hour or so. They yelled and wrestled wildly throughout, but it was pure pleasure to sit in a breezy corner of the deck and have nothing to do at that exact moment but enjoy the time with them. I frankly could not understand most of what they said. The island dialect and manner of speaking is not yet familiar.  I typically have to ask a child to repeat himself a few times, and then, maybe, I figure out what is being said.  I’m sure that will become easier with time.

I am quite sure that after this experience, should I ever have a place of my own, I want it to be quite small.  Sheila was in bed ill today so I was it for cleaning the main house/clinic.  It’s a big house.  I recruited one of the kids who is around a lot to help.  This young man loves to be a part of things, and Larry and Sheila work at providing him the love, structure and training he needs.   

So I spent the day doing laundry, baking bread and cleaning. I thought of Brother Laurence or Henri Nouwen’s Genesee Diary: men who spoke of their days in a monastery doing mundane tasks in the presence of the Holy, seemingly simple tasks becoming transcendent moments of worship.  Although I’m not sure they dealt with the same possibility for interruption- at any moment, like when I’m up to my elbows in flour, someone yells through the window for a cup of water, or the boys ask for a game. Sometimes though you just have to smile and embrace the “interruption”. 

The wind is stiff tonight. I can feel it shake the house a little.  It pours through my window in little bursts that swirl around me for a moment like a quick hug goodnight. I’m exhausted.  

Beginnings

Travels went without a hitch although I was exhausted by the time the plane was landing, and I was taken by surprise that rain was coming down from dense, dark clouds.  The passenger next to me commented on the white caps on the water and I realized we could be in for a change in plans.  One of the supporters of MEI has a condo in one of the upscale tourist portions of Roatan that he allows Larry and Sheila to use form time to time.  What a blessing to have a night to get some rest before making the trip to the island; it would have been a long day otherwise.  

The night before I left I went for a run.  The path I was on took me through a rather expensive housing community at one point; I was thinking how strange to be in a place one minute where the trees in the yard have their own night lights, and in the next 24 hours to be somewhere without electricity.  And now here I was at the fancy condo; it felt strange when I’d been gearing up for the island that first night, but I did savor a hot shower and pesto gnocchi.  On both occasions, the run and the resort, I was thinking of Paul’s words about being content in all situations, in plenty or in want.  And that through God, we have strength to be so content. “I can do all things through Him who gives me strength” is in context of being content. That takes trusting the goodness of God and recognizing his grace.   

Bojangles.  Yep.  What would a trip to Helene be without first going to Bojangles for fried chicken.  If you’ve been, you know what I mean.  If not, well you should go.  I can’t explain it.  It then so happens that while eating the aforementioned chicken, Sheila notices some folks at another table who they know.  So we go over for hellos and hugs as is expected.  The woman asks about the lady to work with Irma’s baby and Sheila says “this is her”, and all eyes come to me.  Come to find out Irma has been praying for the last four months that I would come back to help her little girl.  I suddenly felt like a little kid standing in their dad’s shoes. Big shoes; tiny feet.  That’s heavy; and thrilling.  

So with all the errands finally done, we headed to the boat. The sun shown out through large cumulus clouds as our van turned off a winding road surrounded by dense foliage.  There sat the 18 foot panga - a simple fiberglass hull of a fishing boat with slats for seats and a big diesel outboard on the back.  Inside we piled 7 adults, 2 barrels of diesel fuel, 2 cylinders of butane, 1 barrel of gas, 9 suitcases, boxes of food and other household supplies, and 1 baby walker.  It just felt right to be sitting in that boat again. Past colorful houses on stilts that looked the worse for wear on their perch over the water’s edge, we made our way out of the cove towards Helene and a darkening sky.  Small white caps appeared on the top of 2-3 foot swells as the boat rose and fell, the driver pulling in through little passes between reefs and mangroves to find calmer water.  Soon stinging bits of rain were falling from the dark pewter sky and I thought to remember being so chilly when the weather turns hot. We were greeted at the dock by a group of islanders who graciously helped carry all the supplies to the clinic. A surreal moment: to cross the dirt road by the big spreading tree, and in gently falling rain, pad through the grass, past the front of an old white-steepled church, and up the wood steps of the clinic.  I came into the main room, plopped down in the main room and literally kissed a wooden floor board.  

So while Larry and Sheila moved into their house out back, I dumped my stuff in my new room, located the apron I’d packed and headed to the kitchen.  With gypsy jazz playing and pasta primavera cooking, I started making myself at home. 

9:00 and the generator just went off; thus it’s time for my little battery lantern and no more electric lights.  The crickets are in rare form.  I’m the only one in the gigantic clinic building tonight, except for perhaps a bat or something I hear every now and then in the rafters.  I’ve put most of my things away and made my space as pretty as possible; nonetheless there was one little sniffle as I was putting things away and came across a smell that wrapped up friends and family and my old home all in one sad instance.  But now I’m writing to you about it all and if I don’t think about it too hard, you don’t seem far away at all. Couldn’t you just stop over for a bit?  Come sit on the prayer deck and look at the stars?  Oh please do!  Off to tune the guitar and drift off to sleep with a song. 

Thanks for your prayers.  Tomorrow we start cleaning up the place.

Tuesday: Well it’s “tomorrow”. Internet is finally up, the generator is running, and I’ve spent the day cleaning the grime covered kitchen.  There’s a pretty breeze blowing and I was just handed a packet of flower seeds.  Now to scavage for some sort of pot.  I’m beginning to meet people and forget a lot of names; trying very hard not to do that though. Then there is the family “bush” of this island.  (A tree would be too neat a mental picture).  Eventually I may get a handle on it.  

This morning we had our first “team meeting”, including Teddy.  Ted is an islander and a wonderful man that is part of the team, oversaw the clinic over the break, and gives precious insight into how to work within this culture.  He caught the team up on recent issues, feuds and happenings. We discussed as a team the best way to handle certain relationships, problems, and issues.  Trying to learn as much as I can and not forget anything.  

I’ve been put in charge of evening meals for the week.  On one hand this is great because as some of you know, Larry and I have very different ideas about what constitutes a good meal.  The only problem is that I was asked to make dinners after Larry did the grocery shopping...so canned pork and beans, American cheese... Nah, it’s not that bad.  He might of found it a little weird that I put broccoli in my eggs this morning, that being the only green veggie on hand right now.  We’ve been discussing gardening possibilities a little.  Big vote for such things as collards and kale.  

By 2:00 I’d hit a wall and was just worn out.  So parked in the corner of the lower deck where the breeze is best to read for a while with a make-shift iced coffee.  LD (resident dog) joined me; something about having her around just makes it feel all the more home-like.  People stop by from time to time, and at no time is it just “me” time.  Enjoying that though.  Community changes us, exposes us, grows us.  This will be good. 

The day came

The day has just begun. Literally.  It's just after 1:00am and I enjoy the snuggle of cozy blankets for an extra long minute. In 80% humidity at 80 degrees you don't snuggle under many blankets.  It's time to get up.  The day has come!  Super sleepy and super excited.  Sad and joyous all at the same time.  Do I have everything? Passport? Check!  We're good.

The well-wishes and prayers of friends and family have been amazing the last few days. Thank you all so much for sharing in this with me.  I'm not really sure what to say at this hour.  I wanted very much to share a few pictures with you before I go into the realm of limited bandwidth.  I'm heading off without knowing too much what I will be doing in Helene.  When I was visiting in October though, I did some home visits in the community.  One little girl is just about 3 years old, having had a horrible case of meningitis about a year ago that left her terribly impacted.  It was such a delight to sit in a very hot and stuffy conner or her house and do therapy with her, providing her caregivers as much training as possible until I could come back.  She has been on my heart all through the months of praying over the decision to go, and as I prepare and plan out things to pack.  I'm excited to see her and her family again.   I keep thinking of the 1 little lamb out of the other 99.  If only for one, it's all worth it.

Also while doing some home visits we stopped at the home of the gentleman below.  I actually made three trips to his house to find a time when I didn't arrive just as he was taking a nap. He had a difficult time hearing when I asked for his medical history so another gentleman asked him. "She wants to know what you used to do"...well yes I do, but I was thinking it might be more helpful to know medical history since he was on my list from the clinic for therapy... The sharing of his life was a thousand times better.  At the close we knelt to pray and this man, he prayed over us. It was beautiful and precious.  

 

Well now you have a few faces to think and pray about.  Excited to share more with you as this journey unfolds.  Until next time.  

Be Still

Somewhere in the midst of the busy end to a busy day my heart longed to be still.  To rest.  Set off to hike a few miles this morning in hopes of clearing my head but the thoughts were apparently just as happy to run about outside as they were while packing.  Wrapping up the day having spent the last 3 hours talking with a dear friend.  Philosophizing, postulating, and analyzing through a meandering assortments of contexts and events and themes we see in the various aspects of our lives.  Two souls with unguarded honesty; no masks, no pretenses.  Thanks friend. I wish for more of that.  Real me. Real you.  Good conversation about stuff that matters.

So the suitcase is almost packed...almost.  Up until this moment I had been feeling quite jittery the last few days.  But things feel more settled; so thankful for that.  Yesterday was a big step: said goodbye to my car!  Eleven years, thousands and thousands of miles, life in three states and two countries.  Machine gun checkpoints in the middle of the desert or driving up to Mount Rainier...packing 10 people in when we ran out of gas on a road trip...I like my life.  In giving away physical things in my life my soul has also been exposed of things to which it was attached as well.  Prayerful for the growth and work that is being done through this season.

For those who are praying, would love your continued prayer for matters of support and finances.  Specifically for folks who will partner through a monthly commitment of some kind.  Huge thanks to those of you who have been so generous, whatever the amount may be.  It's the greatest encouragement.  And while this may sound silly, Jesus is good with details, so pray with me that if there is something I need for serving in Helene, whether something for therapy/clinic work or something personal, that it would come to mind.  And I'd appreciate your prayers for my anxious heart and my family as we draw near to departure.  Love you all.  Can't wait to introduce you to Helene :-)

The place I used to live

That moment when your feet leave the ground.  That instant when a bird's wings lift her off her perch.  When a leaf blows from the twig.  A step, a leap, a fall even.  Just wondering what words to put to this moment.

After 18 life-changing months living in Alhambra and witnessing God work in my life and the lives of many around me, I moved out of my little apartment today.   I have especially loved the 6 months in that space. All throughout the day of packing and sorting and cleaning, 4-6 little kids were hanging around the house, digging through the bags of things for Goodwill or offering to help and asking me after every assigned task, "What now, Brittany?"  It was one of those times where you know it would go faster and easier if I wasn't doling out things to do and answering questions and stepping around them, but I would have it no other way.  It was a parting gift to be treasured.  Then to say goodbye and hug them...I drove away exhausted and just wept.  It feels like I blinked and it almost never happened.  Almost.

So in between the moving and packing, dear friends Ernie and Lupe helped me haul a load of furniture to a family that we had come to hear of who just needed just care and support, then it was off to the LCC Love and Serve BBQ.  Just blocks from my house, so exciting to see the hearts of my Family turn toward this neighborhood and serve the people here.  I want very much to be a part of something beautiful, and having spent the last year and half here hoping and praying for something such as this, I want all the more to share in it.  I rejoice that this is happening, that the heart of Jesus for this neighborhood is growing inside of the people here.

Who knew what joy I'd find in giving up other things to go to the place I used to live.  The moment I knew Jesus was moving me there, the refining soul work that took place, the precious people and relationships.  From Tom walking by in the mornings by the Alhambra house porch, always looking for me around the corner, to Maria and her family in the park.  Name after name recalled to my heart.  So now, once again, things being released, that compelling sense of being moved.  Some things seem easy and I don't sense that deep need to trust.  But there are some things, that to go forward will take a gracious gift of faith to trust the goodness of God and His love for me.

So, I'll keep you posted. Staying with family for the next week.  To-do list includes fundraising matters, necessary shopping, time with family, a good cup of coffee, and a hike.

Packing paper and cardboard boxes

I was packing up things in the kitchen yesterday - wrapping things in newspaper, getting frustrated I could never remember where I left the Sharpie -  when it dawned on me that usually when I pack there is the anticipation of opening up all those brown boxes soon and nesting in a new space.  I would be imagining the new home and finding a place for things.  But this time, I'm never going to unpack those boxes.  It's weird to give everything away.  It also feels amazing. 

Some time ago I was sitting on the sidewalk one evening while the kids I was babysitting played on the playground.  A girl came and sat beside me, asking if I'd help her with a few homework problems.  And so it began. Jennifer has been a sweet blessing in my life.  She and her two sisters and brother now often find their way to my kitchen table in the afternoon for help with homework, or to just have fun, bake cupcakes, make homemade pizza, watch movies...So in the middle of packing yesterday, I was not bothered at in a crazy, busy day when I heard a knock on the door.  What a precious afternoon of 5th grade math and spelling, followed by muffin baking.  Later in the night brother and sister were over.  I cherish these moments.  

Time multiplied

It took a long time to fall asleep last night with my to-do list running through my head and when I woke up this morning, the first thought was a prayer asking Jesus to help me with the tasks for the day.  There was far more that needed doing than I perceived possible.  I asked Jesus for grace on the day, to extend time as needed and direct what I did with that time.  It was amazing.  He help me write out letters, there was time to sit with a neighbor who needed prayer, tutor a neighbor girl, get stuff squared away at the bank, spend time with both my folks, and at the close of the evening, my Gospel Community Group filled my suitcase with letters to be read on those days in Helene when I just need to be remembered, prayed over me with the Gospel and shared the sweetest time.  The day is ending now and my apartment is on it's way to being cleared out.  The furniture I made went home with someone else. Favorite books too.  My house plants. The basil plant that smelled so good as it was carried off the porch. Things in this house won't ever be the same. But I'm okay with that.  So grateful for the support, help and encouragement today.

Two weeks out

Yesterday morning my alarm went off at 7:00am...and it hit me:  exactly 2 weeks from that moment my flight will be taking off.  So what to do with one of my last Saturdays?  Spend the day with the community of Life Connection Church.   Somewhere in the middle of the morning 7 year old Avden comes and gives me a huge hug and I stand holding her for a while.  She starts to tell me how much she is going to miss me, and asks why I am leaving.  Suddenly, she throws her head back and dramatically declares "It's not your time!!!"  Then looking me in the eye, "I'm not ready for you to go...I'll NEVER be ready for you to go!!!"  Heart. Melt.  Wow, there are some costs in leaving I never could have anticipated.  So the rest of the day?  Starting to pack and giving away the first of my stuff; this is just the beginning of a busy week of putting things in order and clearing out everything in my house that doesn't make the cut for my two suitcases.  

 

Hands too full

For the past few months I have felt that my life is so full, abundant.  The people, the deepening relationships, the experiences - amazing gifts.  My hands are full.  So as new things are given and I prepare for new things, my hands can only hold so many things, and that means letting go.

It's been raining in Phoenix for the past three days, which is a remarkable event really, and something that I savor immensely.  Tonight after work, a short walk through the desert.  The stormy sky and chilly rain shrouded my familiar hills in a cloak of breathtaking beauty.  I breathed deep as the biting drops were thrown in my face.  I needed a minute to get away and remember the greatness of God.  

In less than three weeks I will be moving.  The reality of that hit me last night and I will admit some panic as I considered all that must take place in that time.  But don't let that seem as though I am not excited and amazed to be going.  Santa Elena (Helene).  That tiny island in the Caribbean off the northern coast of Honduras - it is to become my home.  I'm leaving with no idea when I will come back or where I will go next.  Only one step has been made clear.