being the gringa

by Alanna

I'm a bit of an odd one here in Catacamas. It's true that I know of at least 3 other white woman who live in this city, all married to Hondurans, but I rarely, if ever, see them outside of school. If I forget that I look different, I'm reminded by the stares. After being here for over 4 months now and walking the same streets, I would have hoped that the novelty would wear off. But it hasn't.

This weekend my husband and I took a 2-hour bus drive to a place called Culmi, and experienced Honduran hospitality for a night. We went there with the music teacher from our school, and Yonas helped them with their music for a 'culto' (their word for a church service). It was such a blessing to be there. The young people were genuine and kind, and a stranger opened up their home to us. I enjoyed 2 cups of sweet Honduran coffee and wonderful food which they call Tacos Mexicanas. We walked the streets at night safely, under so many stars. Yonas played soccer with the guys late at night, and I watched them and prayed. I also marveled at the moon, which is sideways here compared to the way it is in the U.S.A. It means the crescent lays on its back horizontally, and last night just the top was in shadow and the whole thing shrouded in clouds. It was a beautiful night, me the only woman but feeling so lucky to be married to that one man. We learned new things about culture in Honduras, sharing a room with somebody else and using bathrooms with just curtains for a door. It pushed me a little out of my comfort zone, and I'm glad because I want to live in Honduras, not alongside it. But still, I'm not one of them. 

After lunch, somebody asked where can they buy Gringas? Here it's a term not just for American girls, but also for a kind of mexican quesadilla. Everybody laughed and looked at me, because clearly I am the only real gringa in the whole city. Yonas said I'm not for sale =P It reminds me that I'm being watched. The little kids in the house peer through the curtain at me; they ask us shyly if we want to come "platicar" with them in the living room (chat). Maybe I'm the only gringa they'll ever have in their house. I don't like being different, don't like standing out at the Christmas program among all the other teachers, don't like being watched. If I go to the grocery store with a bad attitude, I'm sure to meet a parent of one of my students there.  Sometimes I wish I could just be Honduran, but no matter how good my Spanish accent, this skin color will never change.

Being watched is good practice for me here, a sober reminder that we are ambassadors of Jesus, representatives of His name. We don't belong here on earth, we're strangers and sojourners. Yonas says his home is in the heavens, not here in Catacamas. And he's right. The thing I wonder is, how do I bear the name of Christ? Do I reflect even a little of His compassion, His love? Do I radiate joy because I'm beloved by the Creator of all? Do I dance happy because I'm forgiven and free? Do I forgive the way I am forgiven? I don't want people to see me in me, but to find reason in me to glorify His name. Today I want to remember that I'm being watched, not as a white girl in Honduras, but as a light in a dark place. Not so that I can perform, but so that I can cling to Him and so that He can produce fruit in me that brings Himself glory.

surprised by gentleness

 By Mary

My so-very-close-to-being-two-year-old has a pretty good understanding of discipline and consequences. I think she even appreciates the justice of it, though it doesn't in the least prevent her from doing the things she knows will earn an unfavorable result for herself.

But I've also noticed that in those moments when she's at her worst and the very hardest to love, when something inside me makes her pull her close and kiss her soft, the sweet surprise teaches so many lessons in itself.

I can tell she knows that she doesn't deserve it, that it doesn't excuse her behavior. But she knows I love her anyway and always will. And that's when she softens, quick as a wink, and presses her chubby little cheek against mine with a squeeze around the neck and the sweetest "wuv youu" that ever was.

I'm so thankful God loves us with such merciful love, praying it will always soften our hearts and cause us to seek His.

pictures

by Alanna

We've hardly taken any pictures here in Honduras. None of the school, none of Catacamas or the kids we're teaching.  I took just a few last week (we were in Tegucigalpa for Thanksgiving), so I decided to upload them here. I'm hoping to do better in the future with picture taking, but we'll see.

No deep freezers here. The Honduras version of an "extra large freezer", at our hotel in Tegucigalpa. 

(Bigger than the one in our apartment.)

We visited Valle de Angeles, a touristy sort of place in Tegucigalpa, 

and found this book exchanging post!

They use these taxis in some places in Honduras. Called 'motos'.

 Here in Catacamas we use regular white taxis, but I took a picture of this moto because I think it is so cute. Someday I hope we'll ride in one.

My husband walking in Valle de Angeles.

Both of us in Valle de Angeles.

Sometimes our water from the taps in Catacamas looks like this.

(And no, that's not Fanta. And yes, it's just straight water into a clean bottle).

My husband loves to make crepes, and to bless people with them.
Sometimes he makes crepes and plays guitar at the same time.

He's also very creative. Made a chess set out of a pizza box, a file organizer for me out of cardboard, a new drawer handle from a camera strap. These shapes from crepes.

Anyway, enough pictures of our uneventful life here in Honduras. 

Here's the last one, of us together outside of our apartment in Catacamas.

A thankful heart is a happy heart

By Mary

I had a little Thanksgiving post all ready to put up just before I went to pick up my parents at the airport the day before Thanksgiving...and then my computer restarted before I could publish it and it was time to go and I proceeded to bid the internet farewell for the week they were here.

But the title of the post still goes with what God seems to be reminding me; take what comes and be thankful for it. Slow life down and forget about imaginations drawn up in my mind. Life is unscripted and people don't always behave like they do in a book and getting a certain feeling out of an activity definitely shouldn't be the goal I set for myself.

And sometimes imperfect is just right.

marriage

by Alanna

5 months and 5 days ago I got married to this wonderful man. I never blogged much about our wedding, or about marriage since. I hope that God is glorified through whatever little testimony I write here now about our first five months of wedded life.

Our wedding was a joy! Friends and family blessed us by helping and rejoicing with us. We had a potluck wedding celebration with dancing and even a swing lesson given by my dear cousin. Cliche or not, it was the happiest day of my life so far. I'm not sure how this man found me, although I credit it to God's good planning. He gives such good things to His children.

I always hoped that after we got married, we would be a picture of Christ and His church. The church trusting, submitting, serving. Christ loving, laying down His life. I prayed about being a submissive wife, prayed to trust Yonas no matter where God led Him. What I never guessed was how much, within our marriage, I myself would be shown a picture of Christ's love for us. Frail little me, crying for a boy I left in Africa, held up by these strong arms. Clumsy me, breaking all 3 of our glasses here in our first month, treated with patience and kindness. I've focused too much on myself all my life, making me question the love of anybody else. Now, when I run circles in my mind trying to untangle lies, this man reminds me not to think too hard. He makes me laugh, he lets me cry, he teases me unmercifully and I like it. When I'm overwhelmed at school, he comes to help bear my burdens- rewriting all my grades, singing songs with my 1st graders.  He is to me a tangible demonstration of Christ's love toward us. He is not perfect, and neither is our marriage. We are all broken people here, battling sin in us. But these days I rejoice, because God is such a good Father, and He gave me this man to love me with His love. I'm such a blessed girl. And this grace, so undeserved, poured out to us all every day, it makes me sing praises to the King =)

He sees me

by Alanna

Yesterday we had such a good day in 1st grade. I felt like the kids were listening, perhaps even learning. I took time to solve small problems, to encourage kindness in individuals. I stopped to give hugs and dry tears. God answered my prayers and He worked through me. The boys didn't fight in recess, and my previously worst behaved student was a dream. (Any patience I ever possess is only from Him.) Four of my students were also absent yesterday, including 2 of my wilder ones. (Leaving me with only 16).

Today 1st grade was so difficult again. All 20 students arrived, full of energy. I lost my temper and they noticed. A sweet boy in the front row correctly pointed out, "Mrs. Hailu esta enojarada." I was alone all afternoon, as my assistants are busy decorating for our next big holiday here. I got so frustrated and once again wondered why did I ever want to work with kids?

I think I realized a big part of my problem today. I look at the class. I hear 20 voices calling my name, feel 10 hands pulling at me, see 5 kids talking as I'm trying to explain place value. The better days are when I see individuals. But there's too many of them my flesh complains. I subbed for 2nd grade last week, with just 8 quiet girls and 2 quiet boys. God, if there was just only 15 of them, I could manage. But no, this is where God has me. God put each of those 20 kids in my class for a reason. I think that this is what He wants of me. Teach this one boy how to subtract. Praise this energetic boy for waiting patiently. Stop class to hug that one girl who always cries because she has a headache.

There are billions of people in the world. God sees individuals. Christ died for individuals. It makes me want to weep with joy and awe. I'm frail little me though. I can't love individuals the way He does.  Does He expect me to do the impossible? I don't possess infinite patience, omniscience, never-ending supplies of love. But He does. His love never runs dry, so I'm asking Him for it tonight.

Abounding love of this sort is our great need.

Such love is always looking out for chances 

to do loving things.

It runs the second mile as a matter of course, 

for it is continually doing more than it need.

Let us pray that this love may abound 

more and more in us.

God is love, and 

we can never draw too much upon Him. 

That sea will never run dry.

(Amy Carmichael)

      

 November 3rd, 2013
by Alanna

Today Yonas and I are at a new church, as he is practicing music this afternoon with some young people and our school's music teacher. I think he is helping them prepare for a special service, but with our limited Spanish, neither of us are exactly sure. (Note: Turns out that church service began shortly after I finished writing this blog in my notebook. Yonas was up there on stage with his guitar so he just became part of the worship team. We laughed hard about it later and were reminded that Honduras = flexibility)

As usual on the weekends, I'm waging small battles in my mind. Why are we here? Why always so busy? Why haven't we found a good church, good fellowship yet? Me, me, me, always struggling to rise. He is stronger than all this, and He puts songs of rejoicing in my mouth. This is part of why I practice gratitude. Because gratitude kills the me in me. It acknowledges that He is what life is about. To give Him glory is to know joy. They sing this song here, 

"Recibe toda la gloria, recibe toda la honra, 

precioso Hijo de Dois." 

 It's that He would receive all the glory and the honor. Amazingly, in part, through my thanksgiving. So this afternoon, I practice dying to me and in giving thanks, gaining happiness. Through Him glorified.

Thank You, Father, for....

1) random Christians expressing glad welcome to us

2) the music teacher's generosity

3) the way music crosses language barriers

4) patient people talking to me in Spanish

5) my little friend Carlos Roberto

6) being trusted to give my husband haircuts

7) seeing people learn new things

8) walking with my husband and coming upon a random plaza

9) a big disused fountain with mysterious steps leading underneath

10) supportive parents of 1st graders

11) adoption

12) the order of red plastic chairs in rows

13) ceiling fans

14) Honduran sunshine

15) close mountains carpeted green

16) good ice cream for 25 lempiras ($1.25)

17) tree branches covered in moss and stretching far over our heads

18) God creative

19) the gift of communion with Him

20) the Psalms

Counting it All Joy

By Mary

It's November and a lot of my Facebook friends are taking the time to list something they're thankful for every day of the month. I like seeing their lists...it makes me feel like people are taking the time to enjoy the season of Thanksgiving, instead of just skipping straight from costumes and candy into lights and presents with a quick pit-stop on Turkey Day.

It happens that in our little women's study group, we've been going through the book One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. I've read it a little over two years ago and it seems to fresh but at the same time I think some of the principles and perspectives that God taught me through it the first time are fairly well cemented in my life and it leaves me free to dig a little deeper in some ways.

And I've realized my serious lack of thankfulness in hard places of my marriage. I can do it for everything else when I set myself to it--every difficult thing as a mom, a friend, anything. But I'm so reluctant to give God thanks at times when our relationship isn't what it should be (and maybe also the times when it's just not what I want it to be)

I think part of my problem is, I've stopped viewing my life in it's entirety as my job. If I'm God's ambassador, God's steward, I'm on the clock all the time. I get to thinking I'm supposed to have breaks where life becomes about me, not Him, His will, His ways. In my other roles in life I think I do better with self-sacrifice, remember to minister and forget expectations, while as a wife I've allowed myself to be demanding. And I justify it at first--I am after all only wanting God's plan, right? The way He wants it to be, right? I don't see this habit of dissatisfaction creeping in until it hits me one day that I've completely lost sight of the wonderful person my husband is, and is towards me. If there's anybody standing in the way of what should be in our relationship, it's me.

I  catch myself thinking "be thankful? For what? Why be thankful about this frustration and that annoyance, about now?" But really the question is, "why not be thankful?" Do I really think there's a better alternative? That irritability, bitterness or anything else is going to do anything for me besides turning me into a person that I don't even want to have to be around?

"You would be very ashamed if you knew what the experiences you call setbacks, upheavals, pointless disturbances, and tedious annoyances really are. You would realize that your complaints about them are nothing more nor less than blasphemies - though that never occurs to you. Nothing happens to you except by the will of God, and yet God's beloved children curse it because they do not know what it is" (-Jean-Pierre de Caussade)

I don't think James was simply being poetic or inspirational when he said "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds". I think Paul was pretty literal when he instructed "give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you". And I'm learning (again and again and again) that it's really the only way I want to live.

I'm a workaholic

by Alanna
 
Since being married, I've learned more about myself. One thing my husband recently sugested to me is that I'm a workaholic. At first I didn't believe it, but now I'm sure it's true.

Here this always work to do. Every night, I could plan more. I could grade exams. I could sweep the floors, or start dinner, or make tortillas, or start the laundry. But so often those things can wait.

This past week I've been sick, and my husband has been making dinner. I've had to rest. It's good practice for me, to stop thinking about subtraction and how to motivate 4th graders to learn. It's not good to be always a Martha, tempted to judge the Mary's. I need to learn to be still.

Another thing God's been teaching me is how to be still in the working, how to stop and breathe when my hands are busy. I've been reminded by Ann Voskamp, Amy Carmichael, Brother Lawrence, and Paul, to remember eternal things. A quick look up- "Lord, Thou knowest," a deep breath of thanksgiving, a deliberate response of love to one of those many clamoring voices calling "Mrs. Hailu!" Time spent just being with my husband. Talking with people in my breaks at work, rather than planning lessons. I ache to rejoice always, to love better, to put to death my own selfish desires. A dear friend reminded me that we can't just think hard enough to squeeze out this fruit. We have to abide in the Vine, drink deep of Him. These days I pray to practice acknowledging His presence, long for Him to keep me close to Him. When I work and when I rest.

when they drive me crazy (September 10th)

September 10th
by Alanna


My class drives me crazy sometimes. I never imagined I could have such a difficult time with a group of 6-year-olds. I never imagined my patience was so lacking, and my love so utterly inadequate for these little ones. Yesterday I borrowed the English word 'manic' to describe the kids in my class. At the end of the day, I wanted to cry and some of them already were.

I was in such a grumpy mood that night, that I laid on the floor with pen and paper, and didn't get up until it was full of things I am grateful for. Not things I made up just to list, but actually beautiful and good things that God has done and is doing in our lives.

Today was dia de los ninos- day of the children. It is the day to celebrate children and how precious they are to God. Why can't I see them as precious as He does? Love for kids has always come so easily to me. These days loving is hard and messy and I don't have enough to go around. Today was a new day, different than all the days before. (Every day is new right?) I celebrated them. We ate together and laughed together and one boy helped me sort papers after school. In the midst of it, my most trouble making student called me over to his desk and said "Usted es el mejor maestra!" (You are the best teacher). These days I feel anything like that, but oh that boy made me smile today.  

Sometimes I wonder what we are doing here in Honduras. My husband shows me on my ipod, a note from months ago, in which I thanked God for "the possibility of living in Honduras". I laughed and thanked God that we are here now, even when its hard. Because there is so much good in this chaos.

my inadequacy

October 3
by Alanna

I haven't blogged here lately, partly because of a lack of time, and partly because I haven't had a good enough attitude to type grace and blessings and positive here. Many times I have sat down to write, but not found the words. My husband keeps telling me to just write the truth. So today I'm going to try.

The last month of teaching school has been hard. I teach 1st grade most of the day, and also 4th grade language in the morning 6 times a week. For the most part 4th grade has been going well, but the 1st graders have tired me out exceedingly. There are twenty of them, ten boys and ten girls. They are wild, disobedient, talkative, and forgetful. I have had such a hard time managing them, and even a hard time loving them these first couple weeks. I thought I knew better how to discipline and manage kids. All my life, I wanted to work with kids in a third world country. I wanted to come to Honduras.  I thought that love would come easy, that I would have patience for them, that I would see them always as gifts and blessings and rejoice to be their teacher. In some ways, I imagined I was capable.  Loving kids is the only thing I ever thought I could do well.

Our first month of being here has taught me that I am inadequate and incapable. I don't know how to love kids well, let alone how to manage and teach them. I don't possess patience beyond a half hour's worth. I don't have the wisdom to do this job well, or the discernment of how to balance all this work with being a wife. I don't have limitless joy and gratitude that triumphs despite adverse circumstances. I don't always trust that we are right where God wants us to be, and that His plans are best. I am indeed an empty jar of clay.

Perhaps this is one thing God is doing with me here in Honduras. Revealing to me that the wealth I thought I possessed is but nothing.  He is my Sufficiency, to fill up all that I lack.  Although it is hard, I'm glad today that I am nothing without Him. He is everything. I'm amazed that He chooses to use us, weak as we are. I hope that in this weakness, He is glorified.

But we have this treasure

in jars of clay,

to show that the surpassing power

belongs to God

and not to us.

2nd Corinthians 4:7

By His grace

By Mary

I have a Bible study I go to every Wednesday morning. It started out just four of us at my house, when my girl was a couple months old and I didn't have a car to go anywhere. The other girl close to my age worked, and Wednesday mornings was the best free time for her. And the final two in our group were 20-40-ish years older, taking time out of their days to spend time together, to learn and encourage.

There's about 10 of us now every week, plus 8 kids 3 and under (with three more on the way early next year) We meet at church now and one of the loveliest ladies you'll ever meet volunteers to watch the kiddos for us so we can have an hour and half just to focus on the study.

This last week we ended up talking a bit about how God uses us as parents in our little one's lives...but how it's really not within our scope of power to make their hearts choose Him, seek Him, follow after Him. And it's something I've been thinking about a lot in every area of parenting, and just life in general: you don't do all the right things and thus end up with the perfect product.

One woman from church has told me on occasion how well we've trained Gianna. Those words mean so much to me, especially coming from her as she does see a lot of Gia from week to week and she works with kids a lot as well as raising her own. But I never feel it's a compliment to me. I feel so grateful, but it's always just a feeling of encouragement and a little relief, thankful that somebody can see the results of God working in our successes and failures, using and redeeming by His grace.

This verse is always on my mind "But by the grace of God I am what I am: and His grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I labored more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me." Even in the broken places of my life, it's by His grace alone that I'm nothing worse--for what am I without Him? And His grace continues to lead to better things in the imperfect. And one day, what wonderful perfection awaits!

blessed messes

 By Mary

"You will never have this day with your children again, tomorrow they’ll be a little older than they were today.  This day is a gift, breathe and notice, smell and touch them; study their faces and little feet and pay attention.  Relish the charms of the present.  Enjoy today, mama.  It will be over before you know it” – Jen Hatmaker

The first time I came across this quote, it was linked to another mommy's thoughts on it. She focused on the pressure of the sentiment, guilt she feels at reading something like that when it's just been one of those days and moments haven't seemed so easy to cherish--and really, do we have to make ourselves relish the exhausting, dirty, irritating parts of motherhood?

I can understand her point, but when I read that quote, it speaks so differently to me, about parenthood and life in general. I don't think giving thanks in all things means calling everything good and enjoyable. I think it's important to learn to discern God's goodness and the things that reflect Him and recognize the things in the world that are part of brokenness and sin.

I pulled out our fall decorations this week and in our little tub of seasonal decor there's just a few little things that were all Nick's idea, not mutually agreed upon items...and some of them are actually a little ugly to me. But I smiled when I saw them in that plastic tub and I put them up over the house anyway and somehow they're beautiful because they're part of us and our life.

And it's the same thing with parenting: I don't have to actually like washing diarrhea out of sheets or dealing with a tantrum out in public in order to cherish even those moments. It's all part of such a blessed life. How can I be anything but thankful?

answered prayers

By Mary

Sometimes I struggle with the concept of asking for specific things in prayer. I can definitely understand talking to God, or asking for His will to be done in specific situations. But to ask for my personal desires, believing He'll answer...it's hard for me sometimes. I wonder if He doesn't grant my prayers because I'm actually lacking faith I thought I had when I asked. And I don't have it all figured out or anything but I realize more and more that this usually happens when I don't have much of a relationship with Him in general and I'm treating Him more like a genie in a bottle.

This month I've been realizing so many prayers He's granted that I've just ignored really, taken for granted. So many little prayers with my daughter, like a quick and easy delivery, a healthy baby...and then even right down to her curly hair and blue eyes!

I have a whole list of thankfulness for prayers answered...immediate answers like strength for the day, and long asked for prayers like the adoption of two precious little ones I've waited for years to come to be.

Right now my heart utters praise and gratitude instead of questions and doubts. And it's one of my prayers that I learn the discipline to remain this way.

the blessings of power outages

by Alanna

 

Life has been quite busy for us here in Catacamas. We started school last Wednesday, and received our teaching schedules that same day. It’s been hectic, catching the bus at 6:30 a.m. and getting home between 3 and 5 in the afternoon. After that we cook dinner, eat, wash dishes, and plan until generally around 10 p.m. Teaching has been quite a struggle. Someday I’ll muster up the courage to blog about my failings with children and the cacophony of 20 Spanish speaking 1^st-graders in one room. Tonight I want to write about the 12^th graders, our lack of electricity, and Texaco.

Today was a hard day for me. It was our first full day of actual teaching, and I had the first grade room all to myself from 10 a.m.-2:40 p.m. (Before that I do devotions with them for half an hour, and then teach 4^th grade language). The boys were wild; I felt like giving up; I had duties during recess and lunch which meant no time to simply breathe. 1^st grade is harder than it sounded, and patience is something I severely lack.

During lunch time I was keeping an eye on the kids near the soccer fields, and three high school girls joined me. We talked a little about their plans, and mine. They told me nice things that Mr. Hailu told his class about me, and I rolled my eyes and laughed. “No really- he is in love with you Miss”, they said. It was a little breath in my day, a small reminder to be thankful, when all I wanted to do was lay down and quit.

The bus left without us this afternoon because we had teacher devotions. As usual we were the last teachers to leave, catching a ride home with the director around 4:30. I felt so tired and hungry. Unfortunately we had hardly any food at our apartment, and no Lempiras. The bank had closed at 4 p.m. When I flipped the light switch at home, nothing happened. It gets quite dark here by 6:30 p.m., and so lesson planning would be a problem with no electricity. Our electric burners would of course not work to cook dinner. We laughed, Yonas hung up flash lights, and I got out the bread and jelly and cereal (we are out of peanut butter). My husband reminded me to be thankful for cereal. Then he suggested we go out to eat, something we haven’t yet done here in Catacamas. We walked together in the rain to Texaco, and had our first Honduran date there. We ate a whole pizza, drank coke from a glass bottle, sat across from each other and talked. It was a beautiful calm from the chaos. I think we both praised God for the lack of electricity. By the time we walked home, the lights were back on.

In this crazy schedule of our lives right now, it was so good to have a Texaco date night. I’m so exhausted and I still don’t really want to be a teacher in the morning, but tonight I’m thankful because we live here. I’m thankful for reminders from 12^th graders, for hugs from my first graders and the way they yell “Mrs. Hailu!” when they see me walking. I’m thankful for Texaco and their Visa card reader. I thank God for the ability to buy a pizza if we want to. I thank Him tonight that we didn't have electricity for a time. Such darkness brought unexpected blessings. 

  

one day in the life

by Alanna

My husband is cooking crepes and loudly singing along to Bob Marley. So I’m sitting down to write a small blog of our day. This morning we took the laundry down to the courtyard to wash it in the pila. (The pila is an area with cement washing boards, a drain, and a basin for water. We hand wash everything there). My husband wisely wore mosquito spray, and I smugly didn’t. I was promptly bitten 9 times on my ankle and leg within the first 10 minutes of washing clothes, and so I humbly retreated back upstairs to get mosquito spray as well.

After the laundry, we walked to the bank. There you get asked by the security guards at the door if you have a cell phone, as they are not allowed in the bank. From what I’ve seen, if you are a man you also get waved with a metal detector. Yonas had looked up the word for withdrawal, so we could get Lempiras out of our account here.

From there we walked to the grocery store, La Dispensa. It’s the cheapest one in town for most things. They have loud music playing outside every day, and today the music was inside too. It was hard to think about what Honduran baking powder might look like, when those Honduran pop songs were blaring so loudly next to me. I forgot to be thankful and to rejoice that we have a grocery store and money to use there.

Just as we were paying at the register, we heard the rain come. It was a downpour, and the gutters fast became rivers. We waited at the entrance to the store, along with all the Hondurans, for the rain to let up a little. Then we walked home through muddy puddles with light rain coming down. I laughed because I love puddles, but Yonas was not thrilled because he does not like the rain. This afternoon we had lunch (PBJ again), and washed the floors in our apartment by hand.

Afterward I checked e-mails, and Yonas took a nap in our room. While I was typing, suddenly the wide open bedroom door slammed shut. It was so loud that I jumped right out of my seat. It had been the wind, and right away the rain started pouring down. I thought it would be a hurricane. I ran into our room and jumped right into my husband’s arms, like a little scared child.  I’m so thankful that I have this man to be strong. Thankful that he thinks about things like mosquito spray, that he speaks Spanish, that he leads me by the hand across these crazy streets. I’m thankful that we get to hand wash clothes together, clean floors, grocery shop. I’m thankful that we get to live life together, that I don’t have to be alone here. I’m thankful for his kindness and the way he notices the bathroom needs to be cleaned and just does it.

I don’t want to ever forget what we have been given. These other things- a whisk, a washing machine, a mop, aren’t so important. Even baking powder and paprika I can live without. But I’m thankful that today, I have my husband.  

 

in the desert

By Mary

Its been difficult for me to blog lately...partially because the single mom roll was a little more stressful and wearing than I thought it would be, partially because I've been more tired and low energy lately, but mostly just because its been hard to put my thoughts into words.

I've had a spiritual dry spell for months, I think. I can't give it a time frame because it felt so comfortable for so long. Being lukewarm takes little effort...but it really is so draining, so empty and joyless. God has been on the very outskirts of my consciousness with so many petty things competing for my time and heart.

I think it's simple to fall into this kind of lifestyle. It doesn't take anything dramatic and it doesn't even take a long time. It just takes a little shift of focus from God as number one to...anything else as first. It's easy to lose love when you're not cultivating it. It's natural to lose good habits when you stop exercising them.

But right now, I'm so excited for life. I've got my husband back from all his training for at least the next few months and it seems like we're both in this spiritual rebuilding stage and it's so good. And hopeful. God is as present with me in the desert as when He leads me to the well-watered pastures.

adapting

(written on August 12th)
by Alanna

 

I write this blog for now on paper, as we haven’t yet found internet in Catacamas. I’m sure it’s here, just not in our apartment or at the school. Internet, like many things I’ve found, is not a life necessity.

My husband opens our little fridge to get bottled water (nobody drinks tap water here). Inside I see one Yoplait yogurt, a banana, an apple, half a jar of spaghetti sauce, and some unidentified fruit which in my opinion tastes kind of like grass. In the door there is a jar of jelly and a box of juice. Other than that the shelves are bare. I laugh and tell Yonas that I never in my life lived with such an empty fridge.

After our spaghetti dinner tonight, we split one of those chocolate wafer sticks in half, to share. We laughed together, because it’s good but new- this living cheaply, living simply. We have plenty of money in the bank, and we don’t go hungry. Soon we’ll also figure out how to efficiently grocery shop here.

We read this verse in Acts 2 a few days ago- “They received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people.” I’d like that to be us.

I’ve been using socks for potholders, my shirt for a kitchen towel, and a table for an ironing board. Yonas is playing guitar now on our improvised “couch”, which he so creatively made yesterday from 2 chairs, a suitcase, and a blanket. We deep cleaned the whole apartment yesterday- bathroom, screens, windows, floors, furniture- with just 2 rags, a scrubbie, disinfectant, bleach, and water. (There was no broom or mop so I washed the floors Cinderella style). I’m going to learn to make tortillas, hopefully; to hand wash our clothes in the pila, to cook/bake everything with only one working electric burner.

We have so many blessings here. Kind teachers at the school, a very approachable director who is fluent in English, our own furnished place to live. We live in a safe, secure place, we have cell phones, clothes, food, electricity, and running water. We even have 2 fans here, which my handy husband repaired. We have each other to love and serve and lean on. Soon we get to meet kids to love and teach. Jesus paid the ransom to free us. Tonight I’m so very thankful.