It's a Mystery to Me…

Wispy clouds sail past my window as I watch my home of three months fade away. Palm trees wave their gentle farewell while the shimmer of tropical summer reflects the heat along with all its side-affects that has kept me close company recently. Crazy traffic-crowded streets indicate a country where every driver is a law unto his own. Trash-covered roadsides, vibrant green mountains, people who have melted their way into my heart—it is all indelibly engraved upon memory’s hallways, paint still fresh. Shortly my mind is ensconced by cloud trails to match those outside. It's a mystery to me…

I walk at a brisk pace towards the immigration hall lugging my partially incapacitated suitcase behind me while endeavoring to maintain intestinal peace. My eaves dropping capabilities have majorly improved since I first encountered this airport in January. I laugh later as I bump into someone and catch myself automatically responding with perdón or permiso despite the fact I’m now surrounded by English speakers. Other curious habits cause me to smile. Has this language, this culture, really become so much a part of me in so short a time? My mind is still whirling. It's a mystery to me…

It’s my last flight. The flickering lights of city night-life hold me captivated. They always have. Soon the view out my window evolves into complete blackness. I try to see the stars while attempting to avoid the draft coming from the exit row window. I’ve never been known to sleep easily on planes, yet at least I have an empty seat beside me this time. I curl up as comfortably as possible, heavy eyelids descending slowly. True to history, sleep eludes me while once again the inner recesses of my brain step into high gear. It’s a mystery to me…

My eyes cast a bleary gaze around my room. I'm frozen, standing in tired delirium at the doorway despite the fact that it is two o'clock in the morning and I'm incredibly sleep deprived. This room, this house, this country. How could I have become so comfortable as to count them normal? It's a mystery to me…

This enigma, this mystery has fastened its iron-fisted grip upon my heart. And in the silence of quiet morning broken only by occasional flame crackles, I find an answer.

It’s not the poverty, the necessity or even the simplicity of life, it's the contentment. 

These people accept their surroundings and day-to-day realities with a smile. They are satisfied to continue making tortillas and cultivating coffee on the mountainsides like their grandparents. 

If perfect contentment to accept with joy every situation God places in my life can make even a full life simple, that is true living. I can still dream, but I am satisfied that where He has me right now is the absolutely most beautiful place in the world to be.

It is no mystery…

Fun at the river…

Lettuce harvesting day!

Lost… :)

A weekend at the coast…

A friend in the nearby little mountain village of Cero del Torro

Promoting lettuce in San Pedro Sula

Now these are lemons!

Friday is craft day—my turn to teach… :)

The verdant garden

A caving adventure…

Mi amigas en el restaurante! 

A first-time mom, younger than myself, who I was privileged to assist through labor and birth

Hungering for Sacrifice

Sometimes I want to post. Sometimes I could care less. But if anyone has been wondering why so much silence, it's because there is too much happening. My journal is basically full, and it has only been two months. I had to go hunting in town for a new one (not quite my fancy, but at least it doesn´t have disney characters on the front). :)

I'm across the mountain now. Dividing time between La Zona and Santa Barbara. Time at the restaurant. Time at the school. Time at the hospital. My days are full...

Yet deep inside, I feel myself growing in new ways, discovering parts of myself I never knew before. And I'm glad for that…

Learning to take sacrifice to a new level.
Learning more perfectly the inexpressible joy of service.
Learning to create stillness and calm regardless of circumstances.

But the more I learn, the more I hunger. For one thing...

To see the sacrifice of my Savior played out in my life.

Because my life is not my own. All to Him I owe.

I love these mountains…

Gavi and Waleska, my friends and roommates :)

René teaching school

Picking delicious organic lettuce

Seedlings

The restaurant, La Canasta de Vida

Mouthwatering…

A batch of cookies I made…

This specialty, called Torta Fria, is absolutely delicious! I had the privileged of making and decorating it this time…

A friend in the cesarean ward

Cleaning off a cute little newborn

One of the nurses, Damaris, who has become a good friend. :)

He is Everything… (And INFC pictures)

If there is something that has rebounded into my consciousness time after time during the past week, it is this…

God is everything.

From wakening me renewed hours before dawn day after day…
To stretching cuisine further than we deemed possible…
To the dozens of willing hands and cheerful hearts who volunteered to lighten our burden every meal…
To hearts touched and lives convicted (including my own)…
To miracles everywhere I turned…

Yes, He yet again proved Himself capable of doing above and beyond my wildest dreams. Sustaining when I deserved to be exhausted, giving when I didn't deserve to receive, encouraging when I felt drained, and so much more…

And I am reminded once again that He is everything to me.

Yes, everything…

--

Here's a brief glimpse into a week full of smiling faces and willing hands…

Scrumptious peanut butter carob fudge!

30+ batches of waffle batter!

Dedicated to the Harnish's :)

Those oven gloves were absolutely irresistible!

You have to watch out for Uncle Jeff… ;)

Carob delicacies

The excellent potato washers

And potato stabbers… (they developed interesting techniques!)

Gravy in the making

Helping to uniquely decorate the stage :)

Boxing lasagna for Sabbath lunch

Gift of the Crucible

Has it really been an entire week since I was surrounded by nine energetic faces ranging from age one to thirteen and laughing with one of my best friends? It’s a thought hard to comprehend. So much has transpired between now and then, but the memories are as vivid as though it were yesterday.

Those 36 hours were filled with laughter, creativity, discipline, hugs, tears and mischief yet I wouldn’t have traded that last weekend for anything.

From dirty faces covered in the remnants of a traditional African meal, to reenacting David and Goliath, to playing tag in the oppressive heat, to cuddly kids, to dealing with obedience issues, to getting all nine kids through the shower, to hours of reading Swift Arrow, to making sure everyone ate their food, to baby smiles, to crying onion tears… Yes, they are memories I will never forget.

Yet after the flurry of the Crucible had abated and I found myself on a truck headed to Idaho, I contemplated the concept of a crucible again. And it was then that I realized that the crucible is the epitome of my Savior’s love.

For it is in the searing heat of trials that we learn to hear His voice best. It is only when we feel our complete incompetence to live a godly life that He can truly align our heartbeat with His and tune our lips to sing His praise…

The crucible is a precious gift.

No More Tears

It's not easy to say goodbye and leave familiar faces, places, and memories behind. And there is valid cause for tears… Because we were not created to ever say goodbye. Earth was created to be a haven of companionship, friendship, togetherness…

Yet I cannot, will not, allow my tears to obliterate the signs of His love…
It's everywhere.

In countless boxes stacked inside a quickly-emptying basement and spread outside on the grass.
In many willing hands and hearts.
In meals generously prepared by loving hands.

In the laughter with a precious little friend I love dearly.
In a heart to heart talk with my friend of 12 years around the subdivision block one last time.
In joint tears while embracing my adopted little "sister."

 

In a big yellow truck branded, Penske.
In many passing miles, slowly carrying me away from one of the only homes I've known.
In phone calls and chats with friends.

In quiet silence driving a loaded van and trailer behind the truck.
In sunlight streaming through the hotel window.
In a song reminding me to Be Still…

His love is impossible for me to ignore. I see the fingerprints of His infinite care for me everywhere I look. And this reassurance encourages me to never stop trusting, never stop singing…

I miss you my friends… And although I definitely hope to see each of you again still on earth, my greatest desire is to be reunited forever in the heavenly courts above.

"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away." {Revelation 21:4}

No more parting. No more tears.

Oh I long for that place…