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.