Storms

It has been an adrenaline fueled day here in Georgia.

I dropped my children off for school this morning with an awareness that our area was under a tornado watch. Rather than worry & fret, I tried to go about life as close to usual as possible. When we switched from tornado watch to warning I was downtown in a coffee shop with a dear friend.

In the midst of sharing our hearts about circumstantial storms in our lives, sirens alerted us to the presence of a physical storm bearing down on our area. With no radio or television in the shop, we turned to our phones for updates on how things were progressing. As I scanned my news feed it was filled with updates of where people were taking cover. Many were home, but some were in the gym, at doctors' offices, in school, even at Walmart--just doing life when suddenly the storm hit. Most lamented how they were either relieved or stressed by whether or not they had their family members with them.

I rejoiced that I was not home alone in my dark basement, but was instead in a seemingly safe place with friends who were much braver about severe weather than I am. It was a vivid reminder of how different a storm can feel depending on the company you are keeping in the midst of it. Even though I wished desperately I was with my family, I loved hearing my children recount their tales of the hour plus they spent in the 'safe place' at school. I thanked God for their trustworthy teachers.

Throughout the afternoon as I watched the Atlanta news I heard repeated requests that parents NOT try to come and get their children from their schools. The announcers reminded parents that safety plans were in place and had been rehearsed. It was time to trust the plan.

Because I am a metaphor loving gal, I couldn't resist drawing the inevitable comparison to the way we feel during the storms of life.

We were warned for at least 36 hours that severe storms were coming, but it still doesn't prepare you for the impact when they hit. In our fear and panic, we want to rush in and take action rather than trusting the Plan...especially when it comes to those we treasure.

People in nearby communities were hit hard, but our town was spared serious damage. We were left with a very flooded backyard...but there are far worse things. Especially when you have a little redneck in you. ;-)

The storm was quite frightening, but the aftermath was pretty enjoyable!

We can't always find obvious ways to rejoice in the storm, but I hope we try make the most of our circumstances as often as possible.

Her Room

After a home renovation/addition, my K moved into her new room this Summer. Initially, the room was clean and crisp--an almost ethereal vision of soft blue and white. I had carefully selected her furniture, fabrics, rugs and pillows. Many brightly colored toys were moved to the playroom and her hot pink Barbie house was relegated to an out of sight corner, so as to not disrupt the calm and coordinated scene.

Predictably, things have changed as she has lived in her room for 7-8 months. Little by little K has personalized it with things that are important to her...soccer trophies, handmade crafts, paintings and dollar store treasures. What started as my carefully planned and crafted space is morphing and changing into something uniquely her. My influence is still apparent, but her individuality is now coming through as well. It is a sight to behold!

Next to a delicate pastel painting of a dainty bird sits a cheap plastic NY Giants bobble head doll (attached with a suction cup). On her nightstand the beautifully bound old children's books I found in a rummage sale are dwarfed by her current favorite read, a large black hardback Lego Star Wars character encyclopedia. The window seat which once held all of her soft, white stuffed lambs and bunnies now has neon stuffed animals from the Fair's midway on display as well. The most recent addition is a large bright purple camp trunk covered in colorful decals. It doesn't 'match' anything, yet it sits proudly right at the foot of her bed.

Her space is gradually reflecting more of her than me. And as a true measure of the work God is doing in this control freak heart--instead of twitching, complaining and constantly rearranging--I am learning to enjoy watching her bedroom evolve. Make no mistake, I still butt in here and there, but God is really teaching me to embrace it rather than fight it. This is not a decorator show house. It is our home.

I was thinking tonight about what a metaphor it is for parenting. We pray. We plan. We arrange, coordinate and attempt to create a scenario for our children from a vision we have in our head of what it all 'is supposed to look like.' When they are very young, we can control this pretty well. Then, they learn to talk and express themselves. They start selecting their own clothing, voicing opinions about their interests, gravitating towards certain friends. Our carefully crafted scenes get rearranged. Often it is nothing like what we had imagined. It doesn't always match. Things clash. Sometimes it's tacky & awkward in the process, but such is life. I am finding this evolution wilder, random and a lot more fun than I had planned.

Her room serves as a current expression of what we will certainly continue to see in her fashion choices, her relationships, her hobbies/talents and most importantly her heart.

I can't help but grin lately when I walk into her room. It is such a glimpse of her growing identity, influenced by her parents but expanding in brighter and more unique ways all the time.  I am reminded that this is her. She was never meant to simply be a mini me. God has plans for her unique life. She's in the beautiful process of figuring all that out--and  I get to love her through it. I am compelled to trust the Divine Architect and hold on for the ride!

The Perils of Scorecard Parenting

This was not our best morning. My little early birds were all up with their Daddy at 6am, as per usual. The trouble is, when he left for work they went downstairs & in the true spirit of my hibernation I snuggled back under the covers for a snooze.

I suppose I was finally roused by the fact that it was a little brighter than usual in my bedroom. My eyes managed to focus on the clock long enough to read 7:30. School starts at 8.

I scrambled out of bed, already flogging myself for being a lazy housewife. What kind of mother does this? The Proverbs 31 woman rose before dawn. Yet another way I am inadequate. This is your job, woman. Get up and get to it! I started my day by giving myself a lecture and a motherhood demerit. Bad Mom -1

As I dashed downstairs to rally the kids, I found them sitting in front of the television fully dressed (except jackets & shoes). I am raising responsible children! A small victory. Good Mom +1

Then I realized only one had actually eaten breakfast. My poor, hungry children. Irresponsible Mom -1

I snapped them to attention with a flustered tone (even though it was ME I was frustrated with, not them) and rushed them through gathering their things and getting to the car. Impatient Mom -1

We managed to make it to school on time (Good Mom +1), but only because I fed my boys breakfast at a drive through on the way (Unhealthy Mom -1).

As I drove away from school, still groggy, I replayed the morning and noticed how I was sizing myself up according to this mental scorecard. When I averaged out all my pluses and minuses I ended up right back at zero where I had began.

I posted something about it on facebook and found LOTS of people in my boat, confessing that they too play this bad mom/good mom game. Lest we beat ourselves up too much, it is a sign that we care. We take our roles seriously enough to pay attention and strive to do well with what we have been entrusted. But sometimes it can become a way of tripping ourselves up, taking our eyes off of the big picture by focusing them on ourselves instead.

As I reflected I realized I do it in other areas of my life too...as a spouse, as a friend, as a volunteer. (Don't worry I am not keeping score on any of you, I am entirely too consumed with my own scorecard for that. Cringe.) I spent some time praying this morning about getting out of this cycle.

Over dirty dishes midmorning, I was taken back to my short stint in the brokerage business when we lived in Virginia. I sat at the front desk with two large screens that followed the market from 9-4 every day.  The company symbols were red when they were down and green when they were up.  I was mesmerized by the movement. The only thing constant was that these numbers were changing all the time.

Every now and then when things were particularly slow in the office I would pick a stock to follow for the day. Luckily we didn't have the means to actually invest in any of these positions because just watching them throughout the day was enough to stress me out! And I noticed something...although many of these positions generally started and ended in relatively the same place, there could be huge fluctuation during the day. Watching moment by moment was exhausting. If you pulled a daily line graph it looked frantic, but usually converting to a monthly or annual one brought a much more consistent picture. The overall trends were what really mattered.

And so this morning I was left asking myself if I was going to be a day trading kind of parent or one who was willing to stomach short term fluctuations because I was in it for the distance. I don't want to ride the roller coaster of circumstances and bad moods. I want to have a longer range view that allows things to settle into a proper perspective.

Parenting and marriages are long term investments. These relationships will have their high points and their low ones...but we must remain committed to the overall trends not the momentary spikes and dives.

We should certainly be paying attention, but one bad morning won't crush us, any more than one good afternoon will redeem weeks of neglect.

No doubt, in investing financially AND relationally, steady plodding is the most effective strategy.

Savoring a Sabbatical

I confess I am a bit of a hibernator in Winter. I like cozy fires, comfy clothes, slow cooker meals and hanging out at home. It starts for me right after Thanksgiving. Schedules take on a different pace, Fall sports wrap up and I enjoy the opportunity to just 'hunker down' with my family.

After a particularly crazy Fall schedule two years ago (all three kids in demanding after school activities) I made an 'extreme' decision--no Winter sports. None of my children are particularly excited by basketball--their great loves of baseball and soccer are Fall & Spring sports. If they were ambivalent, why would I push?

I don't have any help driving kids from place to place in the afternoon. My husband works late. We have no family in town. I was tired of spending the afternoons bouncing around frantically like a pinball. I resented not having dinner as a family. Homework was getting the squeeze. I saw the opportunity to grasp a lifeline and I took it. This has now been our tradition for two Winters.

P & K still have music lessons during a 30 minute slice on Wednesdays & we go to church that night as well, but otherwise, we come home after school. We rest. We play. We try to space out homework across the week. And it is divine!

I was talking to a frantic mother recently. She spoke of her stress with her schedule and asked if I was feeling it too. As I confessed my hibernation she replied, "Well, you won't be able to do THAT much longer."

I know.
Which is exactly why I am enjoying it now.

Spring is coming and this year each of my three have picked a unique sport with a different practice & game schedule. It will be hairy. I am not looking forward to the seemingly inevitable nature of busy afternoons and game packed weekends. But just because that is coming, doesn't mean it has to be that way now.

I started thinking about how often we go ahead and throw in the towel prematurely. Why do we allow our anticipation that 'it won't always be this way' to spoil our enjoyment of the fact that while that may be true of the future, it is pretty good right here in the present? It is true of many parts of life--far beyond just after school activities. What is the hurry?

Is it fear?
Is it resignation?
Is it laziness?

Or is it just that we forget the power we have when it comes to schedules. We CAN say no. The world will not fall off its axis if we just step back and catch our breath. Shouldn't we be modeling this lesson for our children among the myriad of others?

I fear that we parents believe our children will succeed or fail in life based on whether or not they played kid pitch baseball at nine or had mastered their back handspring by ten. While it is our role in many ways to help them learn to steward their talents, it is also our job to teach them to prioritize their time and nurture their souls.

This looks different in various families in various seasons. All pursuits don't allow for such a period of rest. I won't judge you if you don't judge me... :) But let us not forget that while there is much to be learned from team sports and extracurricular endeavors, there are also great lessons to be learned in family dinners and downtime.

Burnt Flour

I spent the early 1980s in a rural elementary school in Russell County, Alabama. My best friend, D, was the daughter of an outgoing single Mom who drove a trendy red sports car and paid for everything in cash. She also had two older sisters in their teens that taught her how to dress, draw bubble letters and all sorts of other things that made her far cooler than me.

Because I grew up on a family compound of sorts, my little sister & I were allowed to be home alone for the couple of hours between school dismissal and my parents' arrival from work. Most afternoons consisted of two liter bottles of Coca-Cola and television.

One day in the 3rd or 4th grade, D told me about her new candle making kit. As she described it, I wanted it. Badly. I didn't want to wait. I decided I could recreate something like it at home. After school, I set to work with birthday candles and a double boiler.

The trouble was, I had never actually used a double boiler. I didn't realize it needed to have water in the bottom pot. Understandably, the birthday candles in the top pot didn't melt very well without boiling water under them. I did what most impatient 9 year olds would do, I cranked the heat up on the electric range and left it unattended for a while.

I don't recall the exact moment when I decided to go back and check, but I have a vivid memory of the sight that greeted me: bright flames consuming the pot as it melted into the red hot electric coiled eye.

There was a phone within reach. I had a little sister who could have run next door for help. I didn't take advantage of either one. Compelled by my independent streak, my foolish pride and my desire to protect my hide from being spanked I went into action mode.

We did not own a fire extinguisher, but I had this vague memory of hearing that baking flour would put out a fire. I dashed to the pantry, ripped open a bag and poured it onto the flames with reckless abandon. The flames disappeared, but I was left with a real mess.

As I caught my breath, I congratulated myself on saving the house from total destruction. Somehow, standing in the midst of this mess, my juvenile pride was still intact--maybe even emboldened.

With the smell of burnt flour still lingering in the powdery fog, I heard the back door open, the sound of keys jingling and the approaching steps of my mother. Her arrival snapped me back into reality. Suddenly, I no longer saw the room for the tragedy that was averted. Instead, I saw it from the vantage point of my Mom. A melted pot, a ruined stove, a smoky kitchen covered in a white floury mess and the 9 year old culprit standing in the midst of it all.
"WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED HERE?!?!"

It was a valid question.

How had a childish effort to get what I wanted turned into such a total disaster?

Ask Manti Te'o.
Ask Lance Armstrong.
Ask the woman who just wanted to feel pursued again.
Ask the man who just enjoyed feeling like someone thought he was interesting and didn't always have a chore list waiting.
Ask the person drowning it debt as a result of the things they thought would make them feel more accepted.
Ask the friend who thought they just needed that substance to get through a tough time--they could stop whenever they chose.
Not one of them set out planning to get in over their heads.

It is so easy for human beings to walk into the aftermath and survey the landscape while judgmentally asking How the heck did it ever get to this point?!?
I am guilty.
It takes going back to the places in my life covered in 'burnt flour' to be reminded how we get there.
Desires left unchecked.
Independence fueled by pride.
A refusal to ask for help.
Believing the lie that 'we got this.'

A wise counselor told me years ago that I had allowed myself to believe people were either independent or codependent. In doing so I had missed the beautiful in-between of interdendency.

People need each other...
to care enough to pay attention.
to LOVINGLY keep each other in check.
to admit when we could use a hand, or an ear or a shoulder.

It is the wise person who realizes the power of confession when temptation starts, and the fool who continues to shout, "I got this" as his world falls apart around him.

Thoughts on Grace & Parenting

I am feeling a bit quieter than usual lately. There's a lot already being said on the Internet--and some of it is being said very, very well. So, today instead of blabbing and pontificating, I decided to do a bit of linking instead.

This article by Kara Baskin is about 8 months old, but I had not seen it when it made its rounds the first time. I love her breakdown of the type of child she hopes to raise, practically speaking (and her reminder that there are lots of 'ways' to get there.)

And this one from Brene Brown was really thought provoking too. Although I am not a traditional working mother, I do have many unpaid responsibilities both in and outside our household. I have struggled for some time with how to help my children learn that work is important, but not feel like the computer is more important than them. Honestly, whether I am paying bills, working on a spreadsheet or vegging out reading articles for my own enjoyment is generally not clear to them.

I especially appreciated Dr. Brown's encouragement to think of customer service in 'serving' our families. Don't talk to them over the laptop or cell phone. Give them your full attention, even if that means asking them to wait until you are at a good stopping place in your work to do so. The retail customer service example of walking around the counter to actually connect with them was a poignant one for me.

Along those same lines, this Whole-Hearted Parenting Manifesto (also by Brene Brown) was a stark reminder of one more practical things I can implement that could bless every relationship in my life. Quoting Toni Morrison, she writes: "Let your face speak what's in your heart. When they walk in the room my face says I'm glad to see them. It's just as small as that, you see?"

I started trying to do this yesterday with my children AND my husband--smiling, making eye contact and displaying genuine kindness before my often critical or corrective agenda--funny how it reframed the thoughts I was having and how much of the criticism never got spoken. Pausing to appreciate them for who they ARE gave me a moment to reconsider how big of a deal their messy faces, crazy hair, untucked shirts, annoying humming, etc... really were in the grand scheme of things.

I am reminded of the love chapter, I Corinthians 13, and its admonition that without love we are but a clanging gong or clashing symbols...or perhaps a naggy wife & mother...

This parenting journey is such an adventure. Much like marriage, the sanctification that occurs as we try to really love others more than we love ourselves can be exhausting. I commented yesterday that I am often friendlier to the bagboy at the grocery store than I am to the people with whom I share my home. I wonder when they will start to notice??

I don't want to be a hypocrite to the people that know me best. We know one another's imperfections, no need to pretend they don't exist. The beauty of family is the grace in these walls to love each other for who we are, not for who we wish we were.

And who are we anyway? Broken people who claim to embrace grace. Let's love like that! We all have our junk. We can't do or teach all the things on all the great motherhood lists--but we can seek to remind ourselves constantly to keep the Main Thing the main thing.

In a sermon a few months ago, Andy Stanley encouraged listeners to constantly seek the Lord's answer to this question: Right now, in this circumstance, with these people, what does Love require of me?

The answer is not always easy, but it will keep us in a posture of prayer, forgiveness, kindness, service and grace. If we make ourselves first and foremost about the business of loving the Lord & loving others as we love ourselves, I am convinced all the rest will fall into place.

Observations Inside the OR

I keep thinking that I am going to have a lightening bolt moment where the summary statement of our time in Honduras comes to me. I really, really like a neat little package with a lesson at the end. Increasingly, God is taking me down paths where it just isn't quite that simple.

I am even having trouble writing about life in general because I want neat & tidy messages, but my heart has a lot of loose ends right now. (I am finding that's actually not a bad thing.)

I realized while flipping through pictures tonight, that I haven't even written about one of the most remarkable occurrences from our trip.  After 15 years together, I finally got to go into the Operating Room and see the man I love in a whole new light...literally.

From scrubbing in, to all of the pre-op preparations, it felt a bit surreal to be finally entering his sacred space.

 The case I observed was amazing on many levels. The patient turns 4 today. His complaint was extreme belly pain. The culprit was a massive tumor the size of a Thanksgiving turkey. 

 

(I really debated whether or not to post a photo of the tumor because I don't want to gross anyone out...so consider yourself warned. If you are intrigued, keep scrolling. If not. Stop now.)

 

 

This entire mass is a benign tumor that was inside the belly of a sweet little boy.

 

Yes, that is ALL tumor.

 

While my children watched Spanish cartoons in the tiny call room across the hall, I watched my husband's skills change this little boy's life.

(This is the 'after' photo.)

 

His resemblance to my R was absolutely uncanny. As my husband & Dr. Nasralla worked carefully to remove this mass, I snapped away with my camera and prayed for that baby as if he were my own. The following day when I was introduced to the patient's grateful father I was able to tell him so.

 

I have always respected my husband's calling. I know the unbelievable amount of hours he works, the research he does from home, the phone calls with biopsy results he is constantly making, the sacrifices he makes to serve...but something about entering that sterile sacred space to watch the delicate work took it to a whole new level.

 

It was all so intense for me..and yet he does this several times a day, 5-7 days a week.

 

It is so clearly his call--what God built him to do. It inspired me to affirm my husband more in his--and to look for ways to do so for others around me in their unique calls.

 

To the teacher whose students are never far from her mind/heart--who is in the zone when she is helping little brains love learning.

 

To the grocery store employee whose smile and general helpfulness is a blessing to people as they go about their mundane days.

 

To the artist whose creativity is a reflection of the incredible creativity of our God.

 

To the faithful friend who anticipates needs and meets them before they are ever spoken, a beautiful reminder that they are paying attention and they care.

 

To the parent who puts their own self interests aside time and time again in order to serve their family with little fanfare.

 

There are pictures of God's gifting in the people all around us.

The body is an amazing thing.

Let's pause to notice and to affirm one another.

It's a sweet slice of joy!

Coach Mom

 

I find great truth in the adage that the way we speak to our children becomes their inner voice, (while cringing with conviction at some of what I may have contributed in my yuckier moments of motherhood.) Recently, God has laid it on my heart to get serious about the messages that are being programmed into the hearts, minds and spirits of my offspring.

Practically speaking, it has resulted in sentence writing becoming my preferred form of discipline. It has helped my own reactionary nature because I can walk away from a situation, contemplate the real issue at hand and write sentences, tailored specifically to the issue(s), laced with Scripture, encouragement and admonition. The child then copies the sentences a predetermined number of times.

I love this strategy because it allows for the observance of another parenting pearl I adore: Rules without relationship always lead to rebellion. -Josh McDowell Our sentences generally start with a promise of God's love & their parents' love and wrap up with the same.

Because my strongest willed child seems to have inherited his Mama's mouth and hard headedness, we experience our fair share of run ins.  Being somewhat secluded with none of our usual distractions and 'breaks' from one another this week in Honduras brought a lot of our issues to the surface. (i.e., there were some sentences being written.)

It was a gift to my heart yesterday when he chose to copy (and add to) my closing remarks.

I am choosing to believe it was precious rather than that he simply wanted to have the last word. :)

Tonight as I was tucking in said child, I acknowledged that I knew this had been an intense week of 'coaching' from me. Attempting to tap into his love of sports and competitive nature I said, "You know how coaches treat champions, right? They keep working them because they know what they are capable of. That's how I feel about your heart & character. I know God has big plans for you, we just need to work on your self control muscles. What do you think about that?"

His very serious reply was, "I think sometimes, Mama, the coaches give their champs a break too--just to see what would happen."

If his tone hadn't been so pensive, I might have been offended. It was a humbling, big gulp moment for me, but one I plan to swallow with an even bigger dose of prayer.

Don’t exasperate your children by coming down hard on them. Take them by the hand and lead them in the way of the Master. 
Ephesians 6:4 The Message

I knew so much more about parenting before I was one.

Perspective

I am blogging from high above the clouds. (Isn't modern technology amazing?) I know what is waiting for me when I get back...
Nine days worth of mail.
An empty refrigerator.
Suitcases full of dirty laundry.
Losing the 3-5 pounds of tortilla & fried chicken I gained.
Kids to school in the morning...right back to the rat race!

So, I am writing now...even though I haven't finished processing, but while it is still fresh.

There are many challenges associated with taking a first world family of five to a foreign culture...but there are many gifts as well.

The greatest one for us is escaping the ruts of daily life for fresh perspectives on this world. Honestly, I love many of my ruts...they are in my life because they are the comfortable paths I take time and time again. Nevertheless, they can be stifling. It is good to allow God to lift us out of them and onto a new path every now and again.

It makes me appreciate my life. It challenges me to be more grateful, to buy less, to love more.

This trip has also reminded me that sometimes God's presence is loud and clear...other times it is felt in our hearts without major fanfare or huge headlines. That's the kind of trip this has been.

I rejoice in the good work so many people are doing across this globe to the glory of God...from those who serve their whole lives in a small town in central Honduras to my opportunities for service from a home in Northwest Georgia.

Going is good, but its gifts are maximized when we bring them home. I am reminded that the greatest impact we can make is to look for ways to love our neighbors, doing small things with great love, right where we are.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Honduras: Days 6 & 7

Sunday after I posted P had a fairly significant bike crash (down a hill in the pitch dark on a bike with no brakes and no helmet.) We always wear helmets even in the driveway at home, but things are different here and we all get a little too comfortable going with the flow of culture! Thankfully, he avoided major injury and/or an oncoming car from the road at the bottom of the driveway...but he did get a reminder of his crash...in the form of over 50 ant bites on his arms and face. Apparently, when he flipped over the handlebars he avoided a cement culvert but landed in an anthill instead.

The greatest gift from Sunday afternoon/evening was time with the missionary couple's grandchildren. The two boys and a girl, aged 9,8 & 5 live a normal, middle class life here. Because the focus of our recent international travels have been to serve impoverished people,  I appreciated the opportunity for my children to meet and play with children who were different from them culturally, but not because they were 'less fortunate.' These children were bilingual, very bright, exceptionally polite and totally schooled my kiddos in soccer!

Teaching compassion without any condescension is a goal of mine. As our children are exposed to the world I hope they realize different or diverse absolutely does not connotate better or worse. I am motivated by a quote I saw two years ago on a t-shirt that said: "To love the world God loves, we must see the world God sees." As we travel I realize that this isn't just about geography. It is about seeing people, regardless of their package, language or circumstances as children of God.

***Monday***
My husband spent seven hours in the operating room with an extremely complex case. The children and I enjoyed a LOT of down time at home. (My bag of tricks is running very low.) In the afternoon we drove about 20 minutes up into the mountains to see real coffee plantations.

Not sure why they are posing like cranes, other than the fact that they are silly 8.5 year olds.

It was not at all what I had imagined. Entire communities surround many of these farms with concrete block and/or adobe houses. While they certainly aren't built to American standards, they are substantial and a definite step up from the leaky tin roof shacks the most impoverished people here live in.


What coffee beans look like when growing on the plant.

Coffee beans ripe for picking. They actually have a sweet fruity taste in this form.

Letrina de trabatadores (bathroom for the workers) on the coffee farm

One of the other striking things about our trip up into the mountains was seeing young and old participate in the work. School aged children participate in the harvesting sometimes, as the families are paid for the weight of the beans they pick. The more hands picking, the better the payout.

When I was asked about minimum wage standards I was informed that it is equivalent to $350 USD per month.

 

The overseer's small home on the coffee farm was full of animals: three dogs, seven chickens/roosters, two ducks, a turkey

and this cat that thoroughly delighted my children when he stole some lunch out of the outdoor kitchen sink.

 

We were able to watch the National Championship game last night, albeit with Spanish commentary. Hearing the commentators shout "Touch-dooooooown, Alabama!" was quite entertaining. (I was thankful for social media to fill in the gaps on more than one occasion.)

***Tuesday***
My husband operated all day today. He is seeing patients who would have had to wait four months to be seen otherwise...many of them with cancers that need treatment quickly for better outcomes. Tomorrow his cases include a four year old with a complicated abdominal tumor.

Because we are on the compound without transportation (and it is unsafe to leave the grounds on foot) we are doing a lot of this...

Our big outing was a trip to a small neighborhood grocery store. Although I am not known for my culinary skills even in my home kitchen, I felt led to offer to cook dinner tonight for our host. I went to the store open minded...and did the best I could with limited produce, packaging that left much to the imagination (I had to ask two people if I was in fact purchasing beef) and the kitchen of an 82 year old widower. Of course, during the meal our host informed me that the strip steak was a little tough because I had actually purchase ox. Awesome!

Determined to create some adventure, my R insisted his Dad pull one of his teeth tonight. Apparently, his experience in Guatemala last year with Raton the Tooth Mouse convinced him that the mouse pays better than the fairy due to conversion rates.

We are all feeling a little homesick, especially since our school started back today...but we are hopeful for what the next few days here may hold!

Honduras: Days 4 & 5

It is the weekend, so our schedules have reflected a much more recreational pace. Saturday we relaxed all morning before taking an hour long journey to a nearby lake for a scenic lunch.

After 4 1/2 straight days of chicken and rice, we all rejoiced at the chance to eat fish!


Not to worry, ours came from a restaurant, not this roadside stand...but it was just outside, so who knows. Roadside stands offer everything from brown sugar to bread, fish, avocado, pineapple or banana.(Some of these pictures are from previous days, but illustrate our surroundings.)

Although our exploring has been filled with reminders of the extreme poverty that surrounds us, our accommodations on the hospital grounds are very comfortable.

The children enjoy a very American breakfast each day. We haven't been able to get our hands on any bacon, but cheerios and frosted flakes (called  Zucaritos here) balance out the ethnic food that fills the rest of our days. Fresh pineapple is a nice bonus!

I have been to the super mercado to shop twice--which has been quite comedic. There is actually a very western- type grocery store nearby. It is quite surreal to feel familiar and yet foreign at the same time.


This morning we went to church and the intersection of foreign & familiar was illustrated so clearly. The entire two hour service was completely in Spanish. (My sweet children who struggle to sit through the first 30 minutes of our home church's service did remarkably well, but, wow, what an undertaking!)

The service was full of a roller coaster of emotions. Within the first ten minutes they had the entire congregation break into small groups of 8-10 to pray. We were a bit intimidated!

Ten minutes later, I was moved as we sang Spanish words I only partially knew to tunes and melodies I know well. We sing in different words and with different styles about a God whose grace, love and mercy is the same. I couldn't help but let my mind wander to what heaven will be like...so many different people, worshipping one glorious God. We took communion and it made my heart smile. He is indeed the God of nations.

This thought process continued as the congregation spent 20 minutes celebrating Vacation Bible School. As the volunteers and students took the stage in their matching t-shirts, handmade sets reflecting the theme, and songs with hand motions I couldn't get over the similarity to the VBS at my own church each July. They even did a slide show wrap up!

This afternoon has been very low key. Tonight we will enjoy dinner in the home of a missionary family in their 60s who have been serving here for 37 years.

Tomorrow my husband has a very complicated liver cancer surgery, so please pray for him if you think of it. The facilities here are good, but are probably 20 years behind the technology he is accustomed to in the states.

I am not sure what the children and I will find ourselves up to, but another prayer request is for K, P & R. They are such troopers and have been thoroughly enjoying themselves for the most part--but being in someone's home has caused me to have high expectations of their manners and gratitude. (So I guess I am actually asking for prayers that I will have appropriate expectations that are led by the right motives. :)

This is the point in any trip when everyone gets a bit run down and weary of being guests and off of our routine. They are currently enjoying a 'siesta' in their beds reading for a bit. I think I might log off and do the same!

Honduras: Day 3

Despite having no agenda, today was quite an adventure! For the first five hours, the children and I just enjoyed the mid 70s temperatures and cool breezes by playing outside. It is times like these when I am so grateful for same-aged children. It never ceases to amaze me the ways they come up with to keep each other entertained!

After lunch, the bilingual spouse of a local physician offered to take K, P, R & me to another orphanage nearby. This one was very different from the place we visited yesterday. (I was not permitted to take photos.) There was no school and no church on the grounds. It was a single two-story building that houses 40 orphans. (Yes, you read that correctly, 40!) It is overseen by two female missionaries from Spain. The majority of the children (I estimated 30) are under the age of 10. They also have a precious 12 year old girl with Downs Syndrome, Ritzy. I got MANY wonderful hugs from her!

We arrived as they were finishing their lunch and sending the little ones to take naps while the older ones performed chores. Much like the orphanage we visited yesterday, these children are not available for adoption. This is the home where they will grow up.

There was a fence being built from cement blocks and bars. When I asked I was told it was for security. Surprisingly, there is no armed security at this orphanage--despite a formidable armed presence most everywhere else we go. I was alarmed when one of the missionaries told me they have issues both with common thieves and with people trying to get to the children. I asked her how they handle this situation without guards. She replied bluntly, "Big dogs and fireworks." As I asked her to explain, she told me they throw fireworks at intruders because the sound mimics gunfire.

Can you even imagine? This is their real life.

After the residents finished naps and chores, we were able to go on an adventure with a group of 18 of the school aged children. We hiked for about 30 minutes to a river, then hiked right up the middle of it. I couldn't help but shake my head and giggle to myself at one point. I was miles away from my husband--who was scrubbed into surgery--hiking thigh high up a filthy river with my fully clothed children, two Danish college students and 18 Honduran orphans in a third world country. And to think this morning I woke up wondering how on Earth we would fill this day! Life is an adventure.

I have a lot of processing left to do tonight. The orphans today overwhelmed me. They are safe, fed, clothed and being educated...but there are just so many. We have met 58 in 24 hours and are only scratching the surface. I know these children are not forgotten by God or the amazing people who have dedicated their lives to caring for them. Yet, the reality that they will grow up in this way, while my own children are growing up so differently...well, it is just a lot to process.

Three moments from today that I hope not to forget:
1- My children are typical 8 year olds--they can be shy in new situations. I can't always be sure how they will respond, if they will remember their manners, etc. You can only imagine how this can be stressful in a completely different culture. Thankfully, most adults (especially those in childcare) are understanding.

This afternoon it took my boys a few minutes to warm up...but I loved seeing that all was well when the soccer balls were put to use. I heard a familiar sounding voice from across the playground and looked over to see it was one of my dark-haired chicos yelling "Aqui! Aqui!"

2- Watching K pass out all her old silly bands to the wet children when we finished swimming in the river. It really impacted her to see how much these children valued something she had forgotten and stuffed away in an old cabinet. When she had finished distributing them she smiled and said: "Mom, I really love seeing them wearing these bands. I didn't realize they would enjoy them so much!"

3- It was a fun surprise to notice Tom's shoes on several of the little girls. I never doubted the company's one-for-one claims, but it was very special to really see them on needy feet! (I was given permission to take this photo.)

Every time I put mine on I hope I remember that somewhere there are little feet for whom they are making a difference!
"Jesus loves the little children, ALL the children of the world..."

A good day and I am off to bed!

Honduras: Days 1 & 2

Our journey to Honduras was safe and relatively easy. Due to an early flight, we travelled to Atlanta Tuesday night and found a hotel with transport to the airport. Wednesday morning we loaded our five selves, six carry-ons and NINE huge bags onto the shuttle and made our way to the airport.

We were not exactly travelling light! You should have seen the looks and stares as this Jed Clampett type caravan made its way through the airport.

In our defense, only four bags were clothing. One of the goals of this trip was to deliver supplies. An American company that manufactures surgical equipment generously granted a request for $70,000 worth of supplies--under the requirement that it was transported and used by the requesting physician.

Once we arrived in country we took the 2 1/2 hour drive to the city where we are are staying, Siguatepegue. If you have never been to Central America, the road rules (or complete lackthereof) are absolutely terrifying. Our host, a lovely octogenarian, was unphased, even when scenes like this played out around us.

What you cannot see in the photo is that there were people on bicycles on either side of this narrow, winding road as well, leaving no room for error on the hairpin turns. (The fact that I was able to take photographs rather than freaking out is the best indication I can offer for how frequently situations like this occur.)

And the fact that this sibling silliness was going on the backseat despite the death-defying drive is proof that the kids are learning that it is a normal part of life here too. :)

Thursday morning, my husband started his service at Hospital Evangelico by seeing a handful of patients. He will operate on them tomorrow.

While he saw patients, the children and I played lots of games and explored the hospital compound. It is amazing how creative kids can be when they are unplugged!

A little percussion session with items collected in the backyard.

This afternoon we were able to visit a wonderful church/school/orphanage founded and run by an incredible God-fearing woman from Augusta, Georgia.

Rhonda's testimony of complete obedience despite the odds (and even common sense in some cases) was a gift to my heart. She is currently parenting 18 children like these beauties.

She told me incredible stories of God's provision and her faithful perseverance--including literally purchasing one of her boys so that he wouldn't fall into evil hands. Her story was inspiring and challenging. There is nothing more beautiful than seeing some one so fully live out their purpose to the glory of God!

The school she founded offers a free bilingual Christian education to 270 of the most impoverished children in the region. I was struck by some of the simplest things we take for granted---like the lines of cups in every classroom to insure that the children brush their teeth at school because it will not happen at home.

The testimonies of hope and restoration that God has used the school to bring to the surrounding community were amazing! We are hoping to return Tuesday so my trio can attend classes for a bit.

(And P wants to return to see his new friend, Sasha the dog.)

With our host, Dr. Nahim Nasralla, a native Honduran who practiced general surgery in the U.S. for 40 years before returning to Hospital Evangelico.

In true central American style, the children and I do not know what tomorrow holds...but we are so grateful for an opportunity to see this land and these people. After spending time with Rhonda today and witnessing how she trusts Him for everything each day, trusting Him with my agenda for tomorrow is put in a whole new perspective.

The enormity of God's love is so apparent when we enter a world very different from our own and find much evidence of His Presence and His Work. So many lessons to be learned...