Hello beautiful friends and family. After two years of blog silence and for
many of you, complete silence for quite a while, I am finally sharing my
story. It has been an
incredible 2 years that is quite difficult to begin to describe. I would like to try, however, to share
with you all a bit of my experience.
I am incredibly grateful for the Lord’s call to go and for the support
of so many- in prayer and through donations. It would not have been possible without you all and I hope
that my failure to be a better communicator will be forgiven. The Lord has loved me in countless ways,
through many different channels, and pushed me to love differently and
hopefully better in the last two years.
It took two and a half years- filled with much reflection, music,
prayer, dirt, driving, self analysis, yoga, hours of Excel and data entry, pizza
making, reading, rat trap setting, children’s hugs, and conversations exploring
the big questions of life- for me to come to a better understanding of God’s
love in some new and beautiful ways.
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Part of my missionary class as we took our first steps in Honduras. Looking rough after hours of travel...
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Here, I’d like to share a day in my Finca life with you
all. This is not one specific day
but a series of experiences that very easily could have all occurred throughout
the course of a day.
This project of writing down my story has become about as long as a book
so most of you probably won’t read this whole thing (but please check out the
pictures!). Thank you for indulging me as I continue to process God’s love.
It is Tuesday morning at 5:50 am. My alarm is now going off for the third
time. I am grateful for my
roommates, Emily (also an intense sleeper) and Kiddissa (an early riser), who
put up with it. I role out of bed
in a groggy, disheveled state and step out into our garden, heading to the
bathroom. I hear a “Buenos Dias” from behind me and I throw
up a peace sign of greeting to a community member (not sure which one because I
am not awake yet). After brushing
my teeth and throwing on my signature scarf (for comfort, not fashion!), I
begin the walk to the chapel.
Kevin M comes up to me with a random question about the new missionary
application process and midway through the question, he remembers. “O wait, you are still invisible right
now. I’ll ask you later.” I am loved and understood by
community even when I am completely out of it until way after prayer.
The Holy Family Chapel
I enter the chapel, grabbing a cancionera and making my way to the back row sitting with the
teenagers. We begin laudes, led into song by House 1, our
youngest girls. We sing/shout “Alegre la manana que nos habla de ti, Alegre
la manana”. Their voices, although not in key most times, begin to lift me
out of the fog of sleep.
House One girls marching in their dance costumes in the iIndependence Day Parade
After prayer has ended and the children begin to head home
to breakfast and school, I take a few precious moments to sit. I offer a quick prayer to God, offering
up my day and asking for grace. I
know I will need it today. Today’s
prayer is quick because it is Tuesday- chicken day.
I start to walk towards the bodega, our food warehouse that I have been in charge of during my
second year, purchasing all of the food and provisions and supervising their distribution
to the 70ish people who live at the Finca. Seidy is from house 1 and although I have never been very
close with these little girls, Seidy and I have formed a special bond because
she is the responsible one sent to bring the meat back to her house on the days
of the week when I take it out of the back deep freezer. We enter the bodega hand in hand and
I find Brayan, a house 3 boy, ready to scare me as he loves to try and do. He does his typical lion roar giving me
a hug around my middle. We all unlock the back room and these two precious
children help me put out the frozen chicken for each house. They love to feel grown up, responsible,
and I love to give them a chance to help, soaking in this small moment with
children I don’t see very much throughout my day.
Brayan enjoying his haul from a birthday party pinata
After breakfast of scrambled eggs and amazing Amish Baked
Oatmeal (one of the many ways that Laura loves our community through her
baking), I take my time getting ready for the day, resting for a short time
back in bed, knowing that this will mostly likely be my only “me time” today. I am not interrupted on this particular
morning- no one comes looking for me with a question or emergency meeting about
an accounting issue and I revel in the small blessing of a whole chapter of my
current book, one of many worlds I have been able to escape into over two years.
The beautiful garden I step into from my bedroom
The work morning begins and I find that all of the
wonderful women of social work, psychology and the clinic are also in the
office. On this particular
Tuesday, their weekly meeting has been cancelled and everyone is taking
advantage of newly found office time while the kids are in school. I get to play Santa today. We just
received some donations from a visitor and my role in administration means I
get to distribute these little presents.
Haydee jumps out of her chair when I come in with colored post-it notes
and new pens and Erin Marina talks about how she will use the new things for
the discipline system, her not-so-slight obsession. They LOVE office supplies and their joy over this small gift
permeates the office.
I then settle into my corner office, shutting my door and
finding my work playlist on iTunes.
Data entry morning! Cuentas, Quickbooks, reimbursements,
checks, etc. I secretly love this
paperwork- many of my fellow missionaries not understanding why I feel the way
I do about it all. I have plenty
of opportunities at the Finca to organize and be a little bit OCD, although I
marvel how my type A-ness has decreased over the years, most especially because
of my time in Honduras. As I belt
out some Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson, I look out my window to see our
dedicated maintenance team drive past with a car full of leña ready to be burned in our outdoor stoves. I am reminded of how hard they all work
and I am grateful for the relationships I have with these men and the men of
our security team. I hand out the
paychecks so they are all nice to me but I know that they are always kind,
generous with their time and dedicated to their work.
My personal jam session/ office work is over as I watch
several blue and white uniforms heading home from school. On Tuesdays, most missionaries eat lunch in the houses. As the only one who can usually cook
lunch on Tuesday, I am typically in the missionary house. But today was special because there
were spots for everyone! I head to
House 6, our oldest girls, my special friends. Dynia, the tia
who lives with these girls and my friend, has made a typical but delicious
lunch of rice, beans, chicken and corn tortillas. Julitza is the oldest, a Finca girl since she was 3. We have developed a close relationship,
sharing a love of reading and a preference for hanging with the guys. She is preparing to graduate 8th
grade and I pray for her transition. Nelsy, when she sees me, lets out a loud
squeal, comes to give me a hug, burying her face into my shoulder. Miriam and Belgia are calm as usual- responsible
6th graders who tend to go with the flow of the house. We sit and eat, teasing each other
about random things that have happened and laughing about the fun Finca
Olympics we had the past weekend.
Rocking our maroon shirts (the color House 6 wears during these Finca
wide competitions organized by the activities rock star Kit and held
bi-monthly), we had enjoyed each other’s presence even though, yet again, we
were not the most successful group.
God’s love is palpable at the table as the girls show each other love
and love me, allowing me to feel so incredibly comfortable in this house.
House 6 Ladies- Riccy, Miriam, Julitza, Myself, Nelsy and Belgia
Its 1:30 pm, which means it is time to do the sale at the bodega. Sigri, another beautiful house 6 resident, and I head
out. I have on my usual bodega attire of jean cut offs, a
razorback tank and my apron. Sigri
turns to me and makes sure I have brought my music. We like to jam out during the two times she is with me for
her work hours. Dancing, laughing
and singing out loud, we pass the boys who are preparing for their afternoon
work hours doing maintenance work.
Rony, flashing his infectious smile gives me a high five and Jairo lets
out one of his weird but endearing shrieks.
Rony, Jose Daniel and Jairo working in PAVI
At the venta,
our employees and a few women who do odd jobs around the Finca for a food
credit, can come to purchase items at cost that we keep in stock for
distribution. Maria, a woman who
has been a neighbor to the Finca since the early stages, works with Sigri and
I, weighing and bagging flour, rice and collecting other items. Petronila walks in with her daughter who
is a student in our school. Her
presence is my weekly reminder of life outside the fence of the Finca. She and her family are poorer than I
will ever be able to imagine and she works so hard to provide for them. She is grateful for the food credit
that she receives for cleaning our chapel and the clinic. Today I sneak a couple other donation
items into her bag that we have received and I know we can spare. She is so creative and I know will use
every item to benefit her children.
Today, I choose not to despair in the face of this poverty. I have chosen to do that in the past
and still try grapple with the justice of this world. Today, though, I will be grateful for how the Lord is
providing for this woman and her family, grateful that I get to play a tiny
role in that, hopeful that with her education Cyndy, Petronila’s daughter, may
escape the extreme poverty and help her family.
I am also happy today because of a some other special
people who walk into the bodega. We help out a few families with monthly
food credits and Cristina has walked 45 minutes from Trujillo with her grandson. She gives me a joy-filled hug and I
receive God’s love through this woman.
We find the items that she would like to take home this week, including
a box of soy rice from Stop Hunger Now.
Today I am especially grateful for God’s providence because I already
had a town trip planned, which means Cristina does not need to walk back with a
huge sack of food balanced on her shoulders.
Closing up the bodega,
Sigri and I walk back to her house and I make a quick change of clothes,
knowing that jorts are not acceptable attire for the booming metropolis that is
Trujillo.
Well, Sigri doesn't like her picture taken but we snuck this one in of the two of us...
Grabbing the keys, I hop up into one of our Landcruisers,
putting it gear and backing out of the maintenance workshop. I love driving these cars, having
learned to drive stick upon arrival 2 years ago. It is a good thing I like it, because I have made this trip
to Trujillo hundreds of times, as my schedule and job responsibilities make me
one of our main drivers. Dodging
potholes, passing cows and bikes, driving through 6 rivers, Cristina and I chat
about her daughter’s new job cleaning the house of an ex-pat near town,
probably a Canadian since our part of Honduras seems to be a little hub for
them. I drop her off near her home
and head to the bank. The guards
out front know me quite well and certainly seem to like when I come in. “Hola,
hermosa. Que tal?” Hello beautiful, how are you? Deslin the teller, is not quite as overt in his flirting,
but as always is very friendly. I
pick up the previous months cancelled checks from Yarino in the back and Emilio
and Miriam wave a greeting. I’m
sad that I won’t get to see these friendly faces for much more time but am
grateful to know these people and feel so well taken care of by my Trujillo
community.
I leave the bank and head to grab a quick Coca Light from Ivan’s mercado. I walk in and he makes a comment that I look skinnier
today. Every time I see him, he comments
that I look mas gordita or delgadita. I have learned that comments like this are extremely normal,
acceptable in this culture. God
has loved me through these honest comments from a man who started as just my
meat and egg provider and has because my friend, looking out for me, worrying
about my safety and even generously gifting me with diet cokes every so often, knowing
they are my favorite. Vertin is
his assistant and Ivan teases him mercilessly about his crush on me. Vertin, however, is extremely
respectful and shy- uncommon in this town where I have been whistled at more
times than I can count and even received several marriage proposals. “Nos
casamos y me llevas al norte? Marry me and take me to the states??” I have gained confidence and feel
extremely at ease in Trujillo, where I know there are several wonderful people
watching out for their little gringa
friend.
An great visiting priest captured this shot of the Trujillo Cathedral where we attend mass each weekend
I make the drive home to the Finca, happy that my town
trip was short today. Flexibility
is the key to life here and a short town trip without any unexpected stops is
rare. I head back into the office
and meet up with Pat for a short time, as he was in the school this morning for
other training. Patrick, Natalie,
Noelle, Curtis and Tiffany are the newest missionaries. As I get to know them, I am so sad that
I won’t get to live with them longer.
Their energy and love for the mission have reenergized so many of
us. Pat has been an unexpected
surprise as he steps into his role as my accounting shadow. He makes me laugh every day in the
office and I know he is going to kick butt as the financial administrator (the
new name for my role).
Tiffany, Natalie, Noelle, Curtis, and Pat enjoying time in Guatemala before traveling to the Finca
As Pat gets acquainted with the joys of file folders and
archiving, my cell phone rings.
Virginia Gomez is a dear friend from Trujillo who I met as our fish
vender. Her family has been
connected to the Finca for years and years and she blessed me in July, asking
me to be the godmother for her youngest, Misael. He is 2 1/2, extremely shy and very attached to his
mom. Over the past months, I have
made many stops at their house in town, buying fish or just stopping by for a
quick coffee or chat.
Virginia is one of the most generous people I know. She has been dealt some real struggles
in life but her desire to help those even worse off than herself is an
inspiration to me. She is worried
that she will lose her house because she can’t make some payments but is
calling me today to ask if I can bring her another box of soy rice. I know that she delivers bags of this
rice to several people. A woman
named Dominga took in a young pregnant woman a few months ago who abandoned her
precious new son, leaving Dominga to care for him in addition to her own hoard
of children. Virginia also
visits an old couple up the mountain. They can no longer work and are routinely
without food. This couple loved me
on the one visit I made to their home, offering a glass of juice that I know is
extremely rare for them to have and probably a gift from Virginia. The entire Gomez family has
welcomed me into their lives, showing me more of the Lord’s love than I
deserve.
I am holding an exhausted Misael during his baptism and stand with his godfather and his mom, my wonderful friend Virginia
Finishing up work with Pat, I choose to spend some time in
my favorite place at the Finca.
Walking through maintenance, greeting the guys as they wrap up their day,
I make my way to the back porch of house 5. Juan Carlos is
on dinner duty and that means baleadas
made with home made flour tortillas.
After he stokes the fire of the fogon,
he grabs a fresh one, still hot and tosses it to me. He knows that they are my favorite snack. Suyapa, the house mom for this oldest
boy’s home, makes her way out. She
has become my Honduran mother and I love her dearly. She sits down next to me on the bench, takes my arm, rubbing
it with love and asks how my day is going. We laugh about an inside joke. Jose Isabel comes running up from the campo, sticky with sweat after some futbol. I get a huge hug from him because he knows the sweat grosses
me out. He then heads into the
house to shower and eventually makes his way back out onto the porch. Duncan,
the youngest in the house, is still working on his chores but continues to
wander in and out of the conversation just because he wants to be
included. Jose Daniel, a house 4
boy now but hopefully moving up to this house soon, wanders over on an errand
for his tia. She is looking for a
large pan. Daniel stays as long as
possible soaking in time with his friends, guys that he looks up to.
Cesar is brilliant when it comes to English and today we
practice the tongue twister I taught him, which he repeats with perfect
pronunciation. “How much wood could
a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? A woodchuck would chuck all
the wood he could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.” This kid has opened up to me and I
treasure our relationship. Rony,
Suyapa’s husband of 24 years, is finally finished with his work with our
maintenance team. He joins our
little gathering and the conversation turns to relationships and love, a topic
that comes up quite frequently when Hondurans know that you’re single. Rony is lamenting, again, that his
oldest son already has a mujer and a
little baby because he thinks we would make a wonderful couple. I laugh while secretly wishing and
praying for future in-laws as wonderful and selfless as the two people I find
in front of me.
Wilmer and Riccy have now come home on the bus from
Trujillo where they have been studying all afternoon. I get a quick hello from Riccy, who is off to house six
swinging the umbrella she uses on the sunniest days. Wilmer goes into his room and comes out to show me his latest
artistic creation. This talented young painter is bursting with pride and my
heart melts when I think about the kid I met two years ago whose anger issues
were a constant battle.
I sit, surrounded by a beautiful group of people who have
formed a strange little family and decided to welcome me undeservedly into it
with open arms. My heart is full
and I have been loved again today.
Most of the House 5 Gang (Duncan is missing): Rony, Wilmer, Suyapa, Cesar, me and Jose Isabel with Juan Carlos in front
As I make my way to my house for dinner, I realize that I
am just in time to see God in one of his coolest forms. Grabbing the key from inside our house,
I open the gate and walk right out onto the beach, speechless, knowing there
are no words to describe the beauty I see.
There are no words for the beauty of my home.
Wizards in the kitchen, Ashley and Kevin K were on dinner
and I can smell the delicious fried chicken they have prepared for us tonight. It is a real gift because I know both
of them have been super busy all day and went right into cooking dinner 2 hours
ago. We gather around the table,
the first time all of the missionaries have been together since breakfast. I look around the table missing the
three members of this particular year’s community who are not present. Sara has been home with her family for
a few months- her joy radiates through the phone the few times we have been
able to chat since her departure.
I get excited because I remember that next week I get to see both
Allison and David, living 3 hours away with some of our teenagers who are part
of Phase II of the Finca, studying in high school. Pat and I have a buying trip planned for San Pedro Sula. Our
director, Ysmary, and I have been preparing for this trip as we are renting an
18-wheel trailer to pick up mattresses and other donations. I can’t wait to show him the ropes as
we drive across the northern coast of Honduras, stopping to see our Finca
family in Phase II and have some road trip adventures on our way to pick up the
donations and buy supplies.
2013 Missionary Community with visiting priest Padre Marcos (missing the lovely Sara De Phillips)
Our dinner table discussion turns to something about food.
This is inevitable, a very typical conversation. The lack of smart phones- computers in our pockets that are
a staple in the States- makes us seek out an answer to a scientific question
about a particular food in an actual book from our library (one of my favorite
parts of our house).
After doing the dishes at the pila, we all make our way to the chapel. Each weeknight the Finca community gathers in an intentional
way. Tonight is rosary and our
Franciscan sisters are on to lead.
Sor Elda, Sor Inocencia and Sor Mirna are all here, a rare occasion as
Finca and their own congregation work have at least one of them traveling
constantly. They have
recruited the ladies of house 2, our middle girls house, to lead a lot of the
music. I see fellow missionary
Margine, the sweetest of us all, sitting with these girls and I am reminded of
Mary’s gentleness. As we pray to
our mother, asking for her intercessions, asking her to take our prayers to the
feet of her son, I take in the large Finca community and am grateful once more
for this project that I am blessed to be a part of.
After rosary has ended and the houses have left one by
one, most of the missionaries stay for the missionary holy hour, time to sit in
our Lord’s presence and pray. On
this night, Harrison and I have our act together and brought the music binder and
guitar. He begins to strum and I
think through the day, praising Jesus.
He used so many people and moments to love me today. I am currently sitting next to one of
my best friends with whom I have made some of the most beautiful music I have
ever been blessed to be a part of.
More of my best friends surround us- my family to describe them better.
A family that has loved me despite my failures and have taught me more than I
ever thought possible.
One of my favorite Finca memories- a spontaneous night of praise and worship after Talent Show 2013
Taking a sip of my now cold but still great Good Earth
tea, I savor this little bit of heaven- a chapel filled with love, memories,
candlelight and mostly, the Lord who called me here. A call I still can’t wrap my head around. My Creator and Father chose me to serve
and love here but more accurately, chose me to be loved, served by and saved by
him through the family that is the Farm of the Child.
Harrison starts to play a familiar tune, a song that
speaks volumes to my heart every time I hear it. He nods to me and we begin to sing about a truth that I have
lived for 27 incredible months.
He
is jealous for me, Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending
beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.
When
all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And
I realize just how beautiful You are,
And
how great Your affections are for me.
And
oh, how He loves us, oh,
Oh,
how He loves us,
How
He loves us all
Yeah,
He loves us,
Oh,
how He loves us,
Oh,
how He loves us,
Oh,
how He loves.
And
we are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn
to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If
his grace is an ocean, we're all sinking.
And
Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss,
And
my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I
don't have time to maintain these regrets,
When
I think about the way...
That He loves us,
Oh,
how He loves us,
Oh,
how He loves us,
Oh,
how He loves.
El nos ama,
Oh, El nos ama,
Dios, tu nos amas,
Oh, El nos ama…
Yeah,
He loves us,
Oh,
how He loves us,
Oh,
how He loves us,
Oh,
how He loves.
