Happy Father's Day

by Alanna


We're celebrating the return of electricity with Kirk Franklin and "Playing for Change" music. I have this crazy idea that the baby, if not hearing, might be feeling the rhythm and soul of these beats daddy loves.

Yesterday we celebrated Father's Day here in Honduras. A lot of student's dads came to school, played games with their kids and listened to the pastor talk. Because of needing to supervise first grade, all I caught of that was, "Tiene que orar por sus hijos." So true.

Fathers matter. I see their values and priorities reflected in the attitudes and actions of my students. One cries hard for not making the honor roll, and I understand better after her dad questions me at length about why not, and asks me where she ranks among her classmates academically. One is tenderhearted. She showed me one day the illustration of the shadow of the cross, copied in her notebook from memory after I taught it. She tells me she's not afraid to ride a motorcycle anymore, because she trusts in God. And I see her father, a follower of Jesus, his values mirrored in his daughter. I see it all the time.

Yesterday all the fathers received a little blue shirt, pinned on. It read "superpapa." I found Yonas wearing one, and couldn't stop smiling. I'm so thankful God gave this man as the father of my children. If their lives reflect his, they will play soccer and guitar, both brilliantly. But they will also be patient, slow to speak and slow to anger. They will value people more than things, be willing to follow Jesus wherever He leads. They will be hard workers, and fix their eyes not material possessions, but on the things that really matter.

And my child's grandfather? I pray they reflect my father also. That they work hard, love the Word, cherish their own families someday, stand up against tides of injustice. I so respect these two men- my father and my husband. I thank God for them and pray that I never take them for granted. God has used them so to mold and shape me. May I keep submitting to His work through them, keep rejoicing in His blessings.

Happy Father's Day to you both.

the Giver of life

by Alanna

These days run together, long days of being on my feet, evenings of cooking or planning or spending time with my husband. Weekends of sleeping in, and the smell of crepes which my husband has been starting long before I’m up. Later the smell of bleach and laundry soap, the feel of dough for tortillas, the books laid out for another week of teaching. Walking these streets with my husband’s gentle pull on my hand, guiding me back from fast motorcycles and big buses. These things are familiar to me- the way the iron gate swings open to our apartment complex, the sights and sounds of all three grocery stores, the mountains a 10 minute walk from our door.

It seems to me that our time here is drawing to a close, although we still have 3 months left to go. I’m thankful for this time we’ve had, thankful for the small changes I see in 1^st grade as a whole, thankful that one of my worst students suddenly decided he wants to learn everything. (He is a joy to teach, just far behind from having been tuned out and not willing to work the last 7 months.  Every day in class he raises his hand and says, “Mrs. Hailu, no entiendo!” So I’m trying.) I’m thankful for shared laughter with my husband over Honduran logic. The things they failed to think of- a shower that is sloped toward the drain, a doorknob and the space for it in the frame lined up correctly, planning out street construction rather than stopping halfway. For us it means a perpetually wet shower that needs to be cleaned every week, an un-shuttable bedroom door, and dirt roads just a little worse than they were before the government got involved. 

I’m thankful for my husband’s flexibility; the way he gets up to lead worship by himself at a church although he had no idea it was coming. I’m thankful that he shares with everything here at the house, and helps me with even my own schoolwork when I feel overwhelmed. I’m thankful that Spanish comes easier, to understand and even to speak. I’m thankful for my assistant and the way she has become my friend. I’m thankful that some things I have only Jesus to speak to about. I’m thankful for the obedience of the prophets, although their writings baffle me. I’m thankful for e-mails from family. I’m thankful for the ice cream shop here, the beautiful park with the huge tree, and big stone benches with my husband beside me.

I didn’t mean to make this blog a list of the things I thank God for. It started out so very hard, today. But then when I sit down to type, here it comes. He is so good, even in what is so often the ugly mess of me. He is my Rock, my Refuge, my only Hope. He makes all things new. He is building and restoring and fortifying my heart. He is my Father.

He gave us something, recently. A gift I’d been asking for but knew that it was His to give. A little one inside of me. A miracle baby. And I’m in awe, because I realize now more than ever before that He is the Giver of life. He is the Creator, the Giver, and the Sustainer. We are so happy that He blessed us with such a precious gift! Due to “arrive” officially in October. Praise the Giver of all good things =)   

   

missing you

By Mary

I think if I'd had more of a clear idea of what this would be like, these months away from each other, I might have said no about you trying to be a Warrant Officer, might have even said let's find something new, something different from this Marine Corps life. If I'd known we'd have another baby, anticipated how hard it would be telling our little girl "not today" every time she asks "daddy come home please?", or understood the ache of saying goodbye to you during this time, maybe it would have never happened, maybe it would all be different.

And maybe that's why I didn't know, because this is how it's supposed to be. So for now I'll just be thankful--that's it's only four months, not seven or twelve or any other length of time. For things like cell phones and Skype, and for the moments when there's actually time in your day to put them to use. For the fact that you cancelled your private promotion ceremony and were the last in your class to be officially promoted so you could drive here to be with me when our son was born.

I think half the reason why I love how much he looks like you is because I can watch this perfect little miniature you and hold him close and his nearness in the room at night somehow makes the time til we're all together again seem a little less long. I know once that time is here, all this won't seem so bad, just another thing we've gotten through and gone past. She'll still be your little girl and you can learn all about this new little boy.

I'm really proud of you and all you've accomplished and how hard you work to excel.  And I'm thankful for how much  you mean to me and that I can spend all this time missing you.