Last Day of Teaching

Hello All,

Today was our last day of teaching, and it was memorable mainly because it wasn´t that memorable. I love that about life though--the times that we think are the most pivotal are often anti-climactic, and the times and decisions that we dismiss are often the ones that completely turn our worlds upside down. I can´t help but think that that is the way that God works and is one of His subtle beauties. For Him, every moment and person is precious, and I want that to be the case for me as well.

To be honest, while six weeks have passed so quickly, it is a good thing that we are done teaching. We have no disciplinarian leverage--no grades, no consequences for misbehavior, etc. Thus, the novelty of MC and me as teachers has worn off, and the kids have gotten much bolder. We have done our best to maintain control of the class or to make class interesting enough that they pay attention, but it´s been hit and miss for the past two weeks. Sometimes, I´m ready to just end class early since it is obvious to me that the kids are done. It is very hard to teach in someone else´s classroom. You can´t establish your own rules, and often, we have to rely on the intervention of others to maintain some sense of order. This has always been a difficulty for me within field work at Shepherd as well. It is a learning experience though.

I have also learned a lot from collaborating with other volunteers. There is a lot of give-and-take and necessary humility. No one person can or should be the leader, and we all contribute valuable ideas and saving patience. It has taught me to entrust the education of my students to God, knowing that He knows best what they need to learn. And He has His own ways of opening doors for my students to learn--even if it is not the lessons that I have planned or the subjects that I value the most. I am so grateful for His grace that covers all of my flaws.

As far as ESL is concerned, I believe I have decided that I would like to get my TESOL certification. This experience was a way for me to test the waters to see if I was really interesting in doing so, and I do believe that I am. The level that my students are currently operating in is very basic and requires little training to teach. We teach a lot of vocabulary, and the most we ever covered in grammar was three basic verbs in the present tense only. But, I have had so many people at the church in Tegus ask me to teach them English that I think I would like to be better trained to perhaps give free English classes when I live here. But, it is all in God´s hands, so we shall see.

Today, we had third grade, fifth grade, fourth grade B, and sixth grade. We played bingo with the third grade, and I was pleasantly surprised by how much they actually remembered of the alphabet. Fifth grade also went smoothly as we did worksheets on family vocabulary. I was especially blessed by how many girls wished to participate. Often, it is unbelievably difficult to prompt the girls to be actively involved. Perhaps, it is a cultural trend, but they are often drowned out by the vocal and lively boys. Today, however, the girls actually lined up, excited to give their input. I was quite blessed by this change. Fourth grade B was crazy. We played bingo with them as a review and because they are always begging us to play bingo. They were wild, and we actually ended up ending class early because it was obvious to us that the kids were simply ´´done.´´ We ended with sixth grade which was equally as crazy. They had a quiz today on three verbs. Quiz results are always amusing to me--some kids absolutely shock you with their intelligence and willingness to study although they aren´t vocal in class. Other students that we would expect to do well, don´t simply because they´re goofing off. We intended to finish pen pal letters as our final activity, and it just didn´t happen. The best laid plans . . .
At any rate, it was a typical day of teaching, but it was also a blessed one as well.

Tomorrow is a program, and there are no classes. We are still going to go to Chiligatoro to take pictures, say goodbye, etc., but we won´t be teaching. A lot of our students today asked when we would be back. I was so happy to be able to tell them that when I move here to Honduras that I plan to visit, and that move is not so very far away! I love my students so much. They are so very precious.

Anyway, as a sidenote that I keep forgetting to mention, La Esperanza is so different from Villa Vieja in many ways but often for one simple fact--alcoholism is rampant here. There isn´t too much to do around here, and alcohol tends to be the entertainment. While I am a college kid, and thus, I have been around my share of drunk people, I have been rather amazed by how normal it is to constantly be surrounded by drunk people here. You can be driving down the road or walking along the street and see any number of people just passed out cold after drinking. Their skin bakes in the sun as they sprawl in the middle of the sidewalk in some of the most uncomfortable-looking positions. And no one stops. No one brings them inside. No one calls the police. It is totally expected to just keep walking, leaving them to sleep it off. More than once, we have been on trucks to and from Chiligatoro and have seen old men flopped on the side of the road in the mud, next to mud puddles, still gripping a bag or something else, with their hat still partially on. It is so bizarre to me. There seem to be interesting attitudes to drinking among the young people (mainly the soccer team) that we know here--either they do so readily, or they seem to be turned off by drinking. They´ve no doubt seen the effects on their families which likely influences their own decisions in this regard.

Another element of life here that is considered culturally normal is best described with a Spanish word, ´´pícaro.´´ The dictionary definition of pícaro is ´´sly person; rogue; rascal; vile; low; malicious; sly; naughty.´´ In general here, I have come to understand it as a person (usually a guy) who is crafty and manipulative--for men, trying to get with women that are married or are otherwise attached or cheating on whoever they are with. Among our soccer boys, it is often impossible for us to know which of them are married, attached, have kids, etc. because they never tell the truth. They also lie about their age constantly--usually conveniently closer to our own.

Along with this pícaro tendency is a widespread absence of fathers in the lives of their wives and children. For example, in the family that I live with in Esperanza, there are four sisters (that I have met; there are more siblings I haven´t met), and only one is married. The rest are raising their kids by themselves. This could be in part due to their independent tendencies, but I think it is also a product of their environment. It has to due with the culture of machismo, I know, but it still breaks my heart to see my little brothers growing up without the influence and care of a loving father. It is a generational curse that continues. I have had conversations with Jorge, Angel, and Alan about the importance of being a gentleman, etc., and I have been rather heartbroken at times by what they view as normal when it comes to interacting with women. I have great hopes for mis hermanitos, and I pray often that God would be the Father that they´ve never had.

I know that this is a work that He can do as I have seen the grace and amazing love of God at work in Roy´s life in this way. Roy´s father was married to and had six children with Roy´s mother but left them when Roy was seven. Just from conversations we´ve had, I know that this was one of the most defining incidents in Roy´s life that left much pain in its wake. But, he has also told me the story of how God freed him from unforgiveness and all the hurt that was so deeply rooted in Roy´s heart toward his father. Now, while they aren´t close, Roy has a good relationship with his father, and they do communicate and visit with each other. But, God has also provided Alvin to serve as a loving father who gives advice and reprimands, provision and affirmation to Roy. Alvin is the human father that Roy never had. Furthermore, God has become the ultimate Father for Roy and has moved in his life, teaching him through his own painful experiences and improving his character and his expectations for himself, breaking the generational curse. God is very powerful especially in the realm of families. The power of the Christian family and the love of adoption is so amazing to me, and I know that it is one of the major forces of God´s love in this country. Adoption (not even in an official fashion) is so important to me because everyone wants to be loved without condition.

So, to conclude, please pray for Honduras. Pray that the power of God´s familial love would permeate this place. Pray that He would work in the hearts of men to make them better husbands and fathers, and pray that He would work in the hearts of women to want better for themselves and to wait for God´s best. Pray that He would father the fatherless and fill the voids that so often consume.

With love,
Sarah

My Sisters

Hello All,
I realize that I haven´t updated in a while, but I am quite all right. I have gotten caught up in living life here rather than documenting it. It has been enjoyable and busy. Time is slipping by so very quickly, and I am dumbfounded by the fact that I only have 16 days left here in Honduras.

So many things have happened in this short stretch of time, so here is an update on some little things:
1) I got my first haircut here in Honduras. It turned out very well and cost me all of $3.50--heck yes.
2) Teaching is going well although it is as much of a learning process for me as it is for our students. Some things work, and some don´t. We just try to learn from all of it and improve as we go. One day last week, Walter, the little boy who wrote me a love note, grabbed my crotch. We were standing in the middle of a crowd of students when it happened, and it actually happened three times. I dismissed the first two times as accidents due to the fact that we were in a large group of students, his height, etc. But the third time, I snatched his hand up and gave him a stern scolding--highly uncharacteristic for me since I´m usually playful and joking with the students, but entirely necessary. I never know what my students see at home or what examples are paraded before them, but I want to do my best to teach them to respect me as well as others. Teaching is always an adventure.
3) The other day, Marie Claire and I were walking in Chiligatoro when a woman we didn´t know yelled at us from a truck, ´´Gringas feas y terribles.´´ My only response was to laugh because it was hilarious to me (and then I did pray for the lady). I had never seen this lady in my life, but she had enough hatred for me, a stranger, to yell an insult. Eh, all is well.

In other more eventful news, this past weekend was truly wonderful. Because our soccer boys of Esperanza won last weekend, they got to play for the championship in Tegus. Thus, my two Honduras worlds collided when I took the volunteers--Astrid, Marie Claire, and Tina--home with me to Tegus. It was a lot of fun. We took the bus on Thursday because the game was on Friday, and Roy picked us up at the bus station along with Kevin (mi hermanito!). Always the servant and gentleman, Roy got the biggest kick out of driving us around, and I was grateful for his ability to joke with the girls even when they didn´t always share the same language. Mamí Sara was so very hospitable and welcomed all of us into the Eagle´s Nest. The following day, Roy took the girls and I to Multiplaza Mall--it had been a while since we had seen various forms of city civilization, and the girls were grateful for shopping. Around lunchtime, Nick, our GVN director, picked us up to take us to Vía Olimpica for the game.

We were the only gringas there, but we felt completely at home at the epic match between Esperanza and Choluteca. I love that the town has adopted us as one of their own, and we are pretty die-hard fans, after all. There are no fans like Esperanza fans--they took buses at 6 AM to come to the game and brought their own drums, which were played throughout the entirety of the game. We had so much fun cheering our boys on, and the game was quite close. At one point, the team was rallying, and the place was just exploding with excitement. A guy called into a radio station in Esperanza and interviewed Dercia (one of the sisters in the family we live with) and me. Ha ha. I don´t believe I´ve ever been on the radio in the US, but now I have in Honduras. I couldn´t understand much of what he asked me because it was so loud, and I´m sure I sounded really silly--especially since Jorge (mi hermanito) who stayed home told me that he heard me and laughed a lot as a result. It was a really good time although very hot, and the game actually went into overtime, tied at 2-2. But, the boys eventually got tired and lost. It was pretty devastating to them as they all started crying and moped on the field for 20 minutes after the game. After the game, the girls headed back to Esperanza since there was a mushroom festival this past weekend (which entailed much dancing in the streets), and I stayed in Tegus. Roy came to pick me up and took me home to the Eagle´s Nest.

While we were in the car listening to some worship music Roy was playing (as he was singing along), it hit me that it was the 23rd--on that day last year, I left Honduras. Memories of leaving only reminded me what little time I have left. And, inexplicably, I began to cry in the car. I have grown so attached to my girls at the Eagle´s Nest, my new family in La Esperanza, the town of La Esperanza, my students in Chiligatoro, and once again, all of the people that I already knew and loved in Tegus. I know that God is preparing me to leave, but it´s never easy. I love this country and the people here so very much. In church on Sunday, it was continuously echoed in the scriptures used in the message:

Acts 7:33-34
God said, ´´Kneel and pray. You are in a holy place, on holy ground. I´ve seen the agony of my people in Egypt. I´ve heard their groans. I´ve come to help them. So get yourself ready; I´m sending you back to Egypt.´´
My prayer since I´ve been here in Honduras has been just one of humility and obedience: God, send me anywhere, to serve anyone, and help me to be obedient always. God loves the people in the US just as much as He loves the people here. There is suffering in the US although it is a different kind of suffering in some ways. If God is sending me back to the US, I want to return whole-heartedly, willing to be obedient.

2 Timothy 4:2
Challenge, warn, and urge your people. Don´t ever quit. Just keep it simple.

John 14:
I´ve told you this ahead of time, before it happens, so that when it does happen, the confirmation will deepen your belief in me. . . . I am carrying out my Father´s instructions right down to the last detail. Get up. Let´s go. It´s time to leave here.

Thus, I ask for your prayers as I prepare to leave, that God would strengthen my heart and give me a heart for the work and people He has for me in the US. Once again, I feel as if my church and family here are sending me to the US as a missionary since I so often feel so foreign in the place of my birth. But, more than anything, I want to be obedient.

One final story--Saturday was amazing. I went with Roy and the girls to clean Julio and Bessy´s house. Julio is the man in the wheelchair with muscular dystrophy that Roy helps every day. Roy was sick with a cold and fever, but he brought me, Mamí Sara, Mayra, Quendy, Blanca, and me to the house. We hadn´t previously been aware of what we were getting ourselves into. It was a profound mess, one rather reminiscent of professional cleaning or hoarding shows from the US. Realistically, we only put a dent in what needs to be done. We encountered maggots, mold, and more. We ran out of bleach and trash bags. While the girls marveled wide-eyed over a mess like they had never seen before, they also politely and cheerfully worked. I was so proud of all of them. Blanca swept and washed and dusted. Quendy washed mountains and mountains of dishes that likely wouldn´t have been considered salvageable in the US. Mayra helped me clean out the refrigerator. And Mamí Sara mopped and sorted, overseeing it all with a gentle spirit of serving compassion. We were playful as we raced each other to the dumpster with bag after bag of trash as Roy yelled jovially in the streets, ´´Basura!´´ which naturally embarrassed the girls and made me laugh. (Blanca kept fussing over how she looked like a street kid--which she has been before, and I believe being in this state was humbling for us all.) We were hot and sweaty. We sneezed a lot, and we were covered in filth. We truly couldn´t have been happier. We ate lunch with Julio and Bessy in this state, and as lunch finished, Julio and Bessy started a conversation with the girls that led to a precious God moment.

It began with the question of what the girls wanted in a husband. Being adolescent girls, this made them giggle and get shy. Being girls who have all been victims of sexual abuse, it is a question with extreme power because it dares them to want better for themselves than what they´ve seen and experienced. I always refer to the girls as my little sisters, but in this particular situation, I was most definitely one of them. I was expected to answer just as they were which made for a hilarious situation as Roy sat across from me. After we discussed the importance of having a godly man, a man who receives and gives God´s love, a man who serves others, and a man who is suited to our individual needs and God´s plans, Julio and Bessy wanted to pray for each of us. They talked with the girls about their dreams and told them that they should tell God their dreams without fear but with boldness. Dreams are rather a novelty to these girls who have just barely scraped by, focused on surviving first and foremost. Having the chance to believe for the future is something new and challenging.

Julio and Bessy started by praying for Mayra, who jumped at the chance to receive from God. They continued by praying for me which again was a funny situation for me given the circumstances. Next was Blanca. Blanca has had a lot of struggle lately. She decides that she wants to leave the Eagle´s Nest every so often, and Mamí Sara and Blanca butt heads over her attitude fairly often. She is such a sweet soul, but she struggles with her need for control and independence. It is difficult for her to submit to authority which I understand because it means a lack of control, and love means vulnerability. As Julio and Bessy prayed for her, she began to cry, and I found myself inexplicably sobbing with her. Bessy began to tell her to receive God´s embrace, and Bessy told me to give Blanca a hug. I can´t explain what God did in that moment, but Blanca collapsed in my arms, and we sobbed together for a long time. There were lots of prayers for freedom and lots of confessions of love for Jesus. It was undeniably God-orchestrated, but He still wasn´t done.

Quendy was next. She was so hesitant to stand before all of us for prayer, and she was even more hesitant to confess her dreams at Bessy´s prompting. She began with her dreams of being a beautician and having a steady job and a family and soon talked tearfully of the desire to move forward, to be free of all of the terrible things that had happened to her. Quendy is the one who was physically abused by her mother and brother, who never went to school, who was sexually abused by her father, and who was kept as a prisoner in her own home. Bessy placed a crumpled piece of newspaper in Quendy´s open hand saying, ´´Sometimes, you feel like you are trash, don´t you?´´ Quendy began to nodd and cry. Bessy continued, ´´You have been told by so many people that you aren´t worth anything, but God has taken you into His hands,´´ Bessy uncrumpled the newspaper, ´´and has made you something beautiful. And He says that you are worth something. You are so important, so valuable to Him.´´ Quendy began to cry as Bessy had her pour out her heart to God and repeat vital words of, ´´I am God´s daughter. I am loved.´´ Always a mess, I was crying along with her, and as Bessy told her to receive God´s embrace, I was again prompted to be the one physically demonstrating that embrace--a humbling privilege for me. Once again, I can´t explain what God did in that moment, but I know in my heart that it was no accident that I have stayed at the Eagle´s Nest this summer. Those girls are my sisters--not just in name, not just in affection, but in struggle and kindred heartache. There is an understanding among us that surpasses words, and I am infinitely grateful for the power of God´s perfect orchestration. Initially, I was so confused over God´s plans for me to be in Honduras while Alvin and Nellie were away, and I wasn´t sure how it would be staying in the Eagle´s Nest rather than Alvin´s, but this Saturday just showed me that He knew what He was doing. He always has a purpose. A precious, perfect purpose.

At the end of our impromptu church service (we´re always having impromptu church at Julio and Bessy´s), we prayed for Roy and Mamí Sara and sang together. (Roy has recovered from his cold and fever, I might add.) At God´s prompting, I began the song, ´´La Niña de Tus Ojos,´´ which the girls and I often sing together and means great significance for all of us--rescued women who once thought we were unworthy of His love.
You saw me when no one saw me
You loved me when no one loved me
And you gave me a name
I am Your daughter, the daughter of Your eyes
Because You loved me
I love You more than my life
I love You more than my life
I love You more than my life

We came to clean Julio´s house, and we left with cleaner hearts. Mamí Sara had been saying to Bessy all day, ´´We´re going to get rid of anything possible. We get rid of the old and dirty so that God can give us something new.´´ And so He did.

With speechless joy,
Sarah

The Most Chilled Out Person in the World

Hello All,
I hope it´s as sunny for all of you as it is for me in Esperanza right now. Yesterday, my roomie and I took a sick day to sleep off the stomach bug, and it was quite helpful. I am feeling 100% better now, and the only sunburn residue is my peeling nose.

Today is El Día de Lempira en Honduras--my second of this holiday in two years. Lempira was a Lenca Indian that took the initiative to fight off the Spanish to work toward independence, and he is thus known as a Honduran national hero. Because of this holiday and the fact that student teachers have begun teaching in Chiligatoro, we only had two classes today. Fourth grade B was a bit wild today; holidays do have a way of hyping children up. There was a special play performed afterward, so we only had sixth grade for twenty minutes which was actually perfect. It was just enough time to teach them the verb ´´to be.´´ They are so very smart, and they caught on so quickly. At Marie Claire´s suggestion, we are administering our first quiz to them on Thursday. We are trying to prepare them to write pen pal letters to my sister´s class that wrote them letters before school let out for the summer.

Yesterday, we received a visit from Nick, our Global Volunteer Network coordinator, and we had a fun time laughing and joking with him. Afterward, Tina, Marie Claire (my roommate here), Maricruz, and I all had an impromptu talking session. Maricruz shared the testimony of her son who was a drug addict and alcoholic before becoming a Christian. It was a blessing to listen to her story. Afterwards, we were briefly discussing religion, and as Maricruz was asking the other two girls their beliefs, she mentioned that although she is a Christian, she is not a Jesus freak and didn´t wish to pressure them. I piped in saying that, personally, I am a Jesus freak. There is no reason for me to deny it, but I won´t force Him on anyone else. Love doesn´t force itself onto others, and God doesn´t force Himself onto us. So, while I will always be honest and real about God and who I am, and while I hope earnestly that the love and peace of God overflows from me to others daily, it is not for me to force Jesus into someone else´s heart. Just as the Indian poem says, we cannot make the flower blossom. It is all His work. We are merely the vessels. Anyway, Tina piped in and said that she was glad that I am not a forceful person in this regard, that she had been worried when she first met me (I guess from things she´d heard about me being a Christian) and that she had avoided me at first. But, Marie Claire added (and Tina agreed) ´´But you are the most chilled out person in the world.´´

I take that as a great compliment and know that it is all the work of Jesus in my life. I was not always as peaceful and laid back as I am now. I seriously doubt people would have said that about me even just a few years ago. God has worked through circumstances in my life to cultivate patience in ways that I never thought possible. I look back on who I was a mere five years ago and know that there is no other explanation for who I am today. While I go through my bouts of impatience and stubbornness, times of fighting God and wanting my own way, I have learned (and continue learning) how to rest in Him and His will. His burden is easy; His yoke is light. I trust His best more than ever before.

Meanwhile, I have only one more week of teaching after this and only three more weeks left in Honduras in total. While three weeks seemed like a long time in Mexico (in the pre-Honduras anticipation), it seems like a very short time now. I believe I will be more ready to leave this summer than I was last summer. I am excited for my senior year at Shepherd (I´m so old!), and I am excited to graduate (even if I will never use my magic piece of paper in the rest of my life). I am excited to live with my girls for another year and to enjoy a final year of college life. I have enjoyed college so very much. I also look forward to the preparations to move here. I keep mentally going through my closet and excitedly thinking of everything that I can get rid of. It is absolutely ridiculous how much junk I have accumulated in only 21 years of life. Life is so much simpler when you own little.

As much as I am excited to move here, I know that this year will be a time of learning to lose all and share all with others. I am incredibly excited, but I also know that letting go of some elements will be very difficult. It hit me earlier today just what it will mean moving here--who I will be leaving behind. It will mean possibly not seeing my family often, and it will mean having to Skype with my best friend, Anthony, to keep up with how his senior year of college is going. It will mean being out of the reach of many people who have stolen my heart over the years. But, it will also mean opening my heart to new adopted family, new friends, and new people that desperately need to see Jesus in someone else. I have been called to leave it all behind, and I want to do so with a joyful (albeit broken) spirit.

Lots of love,
Sarah

Enjoying Esperanza

Hello All,

This weekend has been truly delightful. I enjoyed my time in Esperanza very much. One evening this week, I was playing cards with Alan, one of the sons of the sisters where I live. Alan and I were a pair, and we were winning pretty consistently. He was so excited. I loved hanging out with this little man, and I told him that I had adopted him as my little brother (along with his other brother, Angel). The next day, Alan introduced me to his friends as his big sister. It was so sweet. I have started calling the little girls, Ana, Evelyn, and Ivania, my little sisters as well.

The birthday party was a great success. I hung out with Jorge, the 16-year-old son of one of the sisters. He is such a good kid, and we had a very good conversation. I adopted him as my little brother as well. He immediately took to the adoption, and we pick on each other like brother and sister. I am quite thankful to have a catracho friend here in Esperanza. Becoming attached the family and my students has paved the way for an attachment to Esperanza as well. The family is so very precious and special, and I will likely visit them when I live in Honduras. Jorge will be going to university in Tegus soon, so I told him that when I live down here permanently, he´ll have to come visit me.

Today, we went to the town soccer game. There is an adult league (which I think is so awesome), and a team from Esperanza was playing Choluteca in a tournament. It was so much fun, and it actually reminded me of my hometown of Philippi. La Esperanza is actually a lot like Philippi just in terms of community. They won 4 to 0 and will be playing next weekend in Tegus. The celebration afterward was awesome and reminded me of how great small towns can be.

Meanwhile, a stomach bug is going around, and I´m afraid I´ve caught it. So please keep my health in your prayers, and although it was rainy, my face got baked today. Eh, trivial things, really.

Lots of love,
Sarah

The Love of God Is Folly

Hello All,
Well, after losing the first version of this post, perhaps you´ll get a more direct version this time. I feel as if I don´t even know where to begin. Today has been unbelievable and so God-directed.
The day began with much dying. I have been praying for a long time that God would teach me how to love--and so He is, through a situation that has caused me much vulnerability and has required much painful, obedient honesty, leading to many tears in the process.

I remember marveling at Alvin´s supernatural love the first time we ever did street ministry with him a few years ago. He loves those kids and pours his life out for them even as they reject him and his invitation for a better life. He has known some of those kids for 13 years and still has yet to see a change in their lifestyles. His love for them knows no conditions. He doesn´t withhold love from them even though they continue to reject a better life and continue to sell their bodies in prostitution, still are high on glue, or refuse to believe that God has better for them (even though Alvin is demonstrating His love right in front of their faces). Alvin loves in the face of rejection, and to me, this is real love.

Real love goes hand-in-hand with truth and obedience. It is easy to love and tell the truth when it is acceptable to the situation, when it doesn´t cost us anything, or when it is reciprocated and believed. It is wildly difficult to love obediently when we´re rejected, made to look stupid, or when it costs us our pride. It is difficult to tell the truth when we know that there is a high probability that it is a painful truth or a truth that no one else will believe.

God has been dealing with me about my pride. It is one of those things that desperately needs to die in me so that I can have a humble heart. I have such a pride in my own self-sufficiency, in my ability to be independent, in my capacity to protect myself from vulnerability and to be untouchable. One mild example of this happened yesterday, and while I don´t know that it bothered the other girls, it crushed me. We three teachers were walking in Esperanza when we passed a young boy who said something to us in Spanish. On a regular basis, we get yelled at, hissed at, kissed at, harrassed, etc. by males of all ages. Thus, it has become our habit to just ignore everyone because it is impossible to know the intentions of the other person. We don´t want to send an invitation just by being polite. In this case as well, we kept walking, ignoring the boy. It wasn´t until we passed him that I realized what his question was--What time is it? I was devastated and convicted that I had literally refused to give someone the time of day simply as a means of protecting myself. It was a terrible realization and made me understand that there is no need for me to ignore anyone. God is fully capable of protecting me from any results of a kind hello. I don´t think Jesus ignored anyone, and I shouldn´t either.

So, as I said, God has been dealing with me in regard to pride. I don´t like being vulnerable. I hate it because I feel exposed. Real love always requires vulnerability though as well as transparency and obedience. I was just pouring out my heart to God earlier today, whining about how I felt embarrassed and humiliated, rejected and used, and in the midst of my brokenness, He reminded me--the love of God is folly. God led me to my old journal and my entries from early May before I left. I had been reading The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning and included the following excerpt:
Don´t try to feel anything, think anything, or do anything. With all the goodwill in the world you cannot make anything happen. Don´t force prayer. Simply relax in the presence of the God you half believe in and ask for a touch of folly.

An Indian poem by Tagore:
No, it is not yours to open buds to blossom,
Shake the bud, strike it,
It is beyond your power to make it blossom.
Your touch soils it.
You tear its petals to pieces and strew them into the dust,
But no colors appear and no perfume.
Oh, it is not for you to open the bud into blossom!
He who can open the bud does it so simply.
He gives it a glance and the life sap stirs through its veins.
At his breath the flower spreads its wings
And flutters in the wind.
Colors flash out like heart longing, the perfume betrays a sweet secret.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.

Lámour de Dieu est folie! -- The love of God is folly.

The following day, I aptly had pasted the following fortune from a fortune cookie as a good reminder: The greatest risk is not taking one.

That word, folly, means ´´the state or quality of being foolish; stupidity; a lack of good sense.´´ Operating in the real love of God often means that we are going to look stupid to the world. We´re supposed to look like idiots when we´re walking in God´s obedient love. God brought me to the story of Noah to remind me of this. Naturally, Noah looked stupid while he was being obedient and building the ark out of love for God. But, what interested me more was the folly of God and His love in that story. The whole reason for the flood was that all of God´s creation was full of evil except for Noah. God had painstakingly taken time to create human beings in His image to love Him and serve Him, and all but one and his family were living selfishly and disobeying. He had lovingly poured life into humans, and none of them except Noah and his family loved Him back. In the world´s terms, doesn´t that make God look stupid, rejected, humiliated? Yet, God was not embarrassed; He just decided to start over with the one family that did love Him.

Thus, with all of these revelations in mind and a new prayer in my heart that God would give me a touch of folly, I set out for the center of town to go here, to the internet cafe. I got a mere three or four houses down when I saw an old woman dressed in indigenous clothes walking laboriously with a cane--and she had no shoes. There is a split second of time when we see the struggle of another person when we assess how involved we are willing to be--is this their problem or am I willing to make it mine? For a few seconds, I kept walking, thinking, deciding, and thoughts of my own shoes flooded my head. I turned around. I began talking to the old lady who had one solitary tooth hanging from her gums, and I couldn´t understand a word of what she was saying although she understood me. I asked her if I could buy her a pair of shoes. I offered mine, but as she was a tiny woman, they would have been huge on her. She agreed to sit and wait on the sidewalk while I bought her a pair of shoes. I hustled off with a mission, not knowing exactly where I would fine a pair.

I went to the closest store I found and ran into the sixth grade teacher from Chiligatoro. The look that she gave me as I bought a tiny pair of shoes (that obviously wouldn´t fit me) was priceless, and I began to sense the beauty of folly. I took the shoes back to the woman and knelt before her, placing them on her filthy feet. One of them fit, but the other did not--her foot was swollen, and she was suffering immense pain. As I was talking to her, numerous people were passing by and staring (more than the usual stares I get for being a blonde gringa). One man stopped and gave the viejita money and managed to talk to her enough for me that we found out the name of the person with whom she lives. She was lost.

I told her I would go buy another pair of shoes that would fit better, and I thought I could perhaps find a taxi so that she could ride to her home although I still didn´t know where she lived. (There was no way she was walking home.) I went back the same store where the woman was very helpful although quite dumbfounded by my requests. I also wandered around until I found a taxi, but he left without coming to the old lady since he expected us to walk to him. I brought the second pair of shoes to her and placed them on her feet. They fit. Then, I told her I would go find another taxi, hoping that she´d be able to point out to the driver where she lived even if she didn´t remember the name. I wandered around to the center of town and found a taxi. When he saw the woman, he said that he had seen her before, and she hadn´t seemed to know where she lived. He suggested that I call the police to help her and left. I don´t know how to call the police here. Go figure.

When I came back to her, she had begun walking again--without wearing the shoes. She said they hurt her foot too much, but she was happy to carry them. One of the men from the family where I live came over at this point and started talking to the lady and to me, trying to find out what was going on. It is pretty crazy for a tall, pale, blonde gringa to be holding the hand of a wrinkled old lady in indigenous clothing, with no shoes, no teeth, and a cane. People stopped and asked if I knew her. People stopped and asked what I was doing. No one really stuck around to help though. The man from the house managed to find out from the old lady which barrio she lived in. It was located very far away--45 minutes by bus. How this shoeless, little old woman made it to Calvary from her home 45 minutes away is beyond me. The man got a taxi for us and told me that the taxi could take us to the bus, which could then take her home.

The taxi driver was very talkative. He asked all kinds of questions about me and wanted me to marry him so that he could go to the US. Ha ha. No thank you. He helped us find the bus, but he dropped us off across a four-way stop. While this normally wouldn´t have been a problem for me (how often do I take walking for granted?!), it was a painstakingly long walk for the abuelita. We were in the middle of the market, and as we crossed the street at a snail´s pace, I felt all eyes on us. I was so afraid that the bus was going to leave before we got there even as I could see it, but it didn´t. I helped her climb up the stairs and walked her to her seat. As we hobbled by, everyone on the bus whispered, ´´Pobrecita! Mira la gringita con la viejita!´´ or ´´Poor thing! Look at the little white girl with the little old lady!´´ It astounds me that everyone will offer a word of sympathy, but how many would have passed her without a bit of action? And how had I almost passed her without taking on her burden as my own? I gave her the shoes, the food she´d been carrying, and money for her bus fare. She gave me a beautiful, gummy grin, and I stooped to hug her and kiss her on her cheek. She kissed me back and mumbled a string of thankful, joyful words that I still didn´t understand. I left her on the bus, assured by the driver that she was going to right place, and I walked home fighting tears.

I saw Jesus in that little old woman in a way that I have never seen Him in someone else before. As I stooped in front of her, cupping her crusty, swollen feet in my hands, I felt so humbled that God had allowed this woman to cross my path just to show me that the love of God is folly--a joyous, beautiful folly! And what if I would have kept walking? What if I would have been too embarrassed to turn around and talk to the abuelita? What if I would have ignored her just as I ignored that little boy who only wanted to know the time? We got stares. We got whispers. We got yells and whistles. We got all kinds of attention, and I was thought to be quite crazy. But the love of God is folly, and how humbling a privilege that He let me experience the wonder of His folly through this little old woman?

Just as the Indian poem states, only God can open a blossom. Only God can work in the hearts of others, but He calls us to be the vessel of love and to plant the seed so there is something for Him to lead to blossoming. He calls us to this love even when it costs us our pride, our time, and our sense of self-protection. Lámour de Dieu est folie!

Embracing the folly,
Sarah

Thrilled to Tears

Hello All,
Today has been a phenomenal day. I have just had unspeakable joy. I don´t even know if I can find the words to express how good God is to me. Teaching went very well today. It was Lindsay´s last day, and we will miss her and her help in teaching. We got out of teaching early, so we decided to go visit Astrid, the other volunteer who works construction.

To walk to the house where she works, we had to walk around the pond in Chiligatoro. The ground was rather soft, and we had to cross a small ditch where water was running. I could have jumped over it to the other side, but there were some boards spread across it. So, I decided to risk the boards. As soon as I stepped, it fell through, and I went with it. It was hilarious. Only one leg fell in the pond, and for the rest of the morning, I walked around with one dry shoe and dry leg and one wet shoe and wet leg. And, oddly enough, this odd occurrence filled me with a lingering laughter and joy that I can´t explain.

Visiting with the family where Astrid works was so precious. We just walked right onto their land with no prior permission, and the older woman immediately served us coffee. We had never met her before in our lives, but she dropped everything to make us feel at home. This is why I love this country. Everyone treats you as family. It is humbling and such a blessing. That is how I want to live my life. I want my home to be a refuge for anyone. I want to treat everyone who crosses my path as family. There were also two small children at the house, and as I was talking to them, they began to laugh for no explicable reason. I thought perhaps I had said something wrong or just looked funny--I probably did. But, at any rate, I started laughing as well to the point of tearing up, and the children just belly laughed in return. It was a moment of pure, God-given joy and such a God-orchestrated melody.

This morning, I was journaling about part of that Mother Theresa book and what someone said about her:
Whenever I met Mother, all self-consciousness left me. I felt right away at ease: she radiated peace and joy. . .
I just started telling God that that is how I want people to feel around me. I want to radiate a sense of home and acceptance to everyone. I just want to be a beacon of His love and joy.

Anyway, we returned to La Esperanza on the back of a giant truck carrying two pieces of lumber. As I sat, muddy and wet, bouncing around with the two boards, I couldn´t get over how peacefully at home I felt. Like I belonged in that moment, on that truck, with wind blowing my untamed hair, and a smile just enveloping my face for the entire ride. This is home.

For lunch today, we ventured to the market. I absolutely love the market. Everything you could possibly want is there, being sold my local vendors. There are families visiting and selling together, people eating, and just an overall sense of camaraderie. We wandered to a place that sold food such as baleadas and the like. It was a lovely group of people, and I enjoyed the food very much.

I also love the things that I am learning from my fellow volunteers. Astrid is a hard worker--she makes it a point to stay longer than she has to in order to accomplish more construction. Tina, although she doesn´t speak much Spanish, speaks the universal language of kids. She plays with any kid that crosses her path. In the market today, she had one little boy belly laughing so hard that everyone around him caught his joy. It was beautiful. Maricruz, the Cuban woman, is very no-nonsense but also so helpful to all those she comes in contact with. She chatters away in Spanish to strangers fearlessly. I love this about her. Where we ate lunch, there was a woman who was crying in one of the food vendor stalls. Maricruz saw her and immediately asked her what was wrong. The woman told her that her eight-year-old son was in the hospital getting his appendix removed. She was crying because she was worried about him (he´s in a hospital in Comayagua, roughly 3 hours from here) and wanted to be with him. Maricruz assured her that her son would be fine, and she promised to pray for her son, Axel. She told the woman to have faith in God. I love the boldness of this woman and her willingness to thrust herself into the lives and struggles of others. I want just such a willing heart that is outgoing in the same way. I would also ask that all of you pray for Axel as well and for the peace of his mother.

Anyway, I am finally here--at the internet cafe. I was reading my e-mail and got an update on my bill from Shepherd from my mom. While there´s no real need to go into too many details, let me just say that God has been so faithful in financial provision that it brings me to tears. He provides such an overabundance that I can´t begin to fathom the depth of His love for me, His child. Trusting Him makes life so very sweet.

Meanwhile, my family was able to visit with Alvin and his family today in Gap Mills, West Virginia. It was such a blessing to hear both from Alvin and from my family about what a wonderful time they had. The family of God is so very beautiful. I love that it knows no boundaries.

With unspeakable joy,
Sarah

Walter

Hello All,

There´s not a whole of new things to report. Teaching went well although we had some crazy students today. I so love my students even when they make teaching difficult. I hope that when I move to Honduras that I will be able to come back and visit all of them, and I´d like to bring Roy as well. (He´s always saying that he wishes he could watch me teach just to see my behavior, etc.)

I received a love note from one of my students today--a precious fourth grade boy named Walter. It was so sweet and made my whole day.

Meanwhile, I miss Tegus and all that I associate with my beloved home. I had a missed call from Mamí Sara this morning, so I called her back and for just the few minutes we were on the phone, I felt a little closer to home. I know that I am here in Esperanza for a reason, and I am grateful for the time that I get to be here. I am getting more attached to the place and adopting it as more of my own. Every day, I get more a glimpse of the realization that it won´t be much longer before I live in Honduras. I love this revelation because although I have said for many years now that I will be moving to Honduras, the reality of that truth only sinks in every so often. I so long for roots and permanence. I long to drive my tent pegs deep as it says in Isaiah. I long for this place to no longer just be home in name but also home in action. All in good time, I know. Once again, the reality of how difficult it is going to be to leave yet again is unbelievable. I underestimate it every time, and it gets harder every time. Leaving Honduras leaves me so broken, but it´s a brokenness that I know is of God. And, I just want His best; thus, I welcome the brokenness even when it leads me to embarrassing laugh-cries. Ha ha.

With love and deep sighs,
Sarah

Calvario and the Cup

Hello All,
Yesterday, God showed me some cool things. He often speaks to me in the details, in names, and such. Maricruz told us yesterday that the barrio we live in is called ´´Calvario´´ which means ´´Calvary´´ in Spanish. Previously, we didn´t know the name of the neighborhood where we live, and I don´t find the timing of this knowledge to be a coincidence. I knew immediately that the name carries a significance for me. My physical address right now is Calvario, La Esperanza, Honduras which means in Spanish: Calvary, The Hope, The Depths. It is oddly appropriate and obviously isn´t an accident.

That word ´´Calvary,´´ in addition to being the location of Jesus´crucifixion, also means ´´any experience that causes great suffering.´´ While I love Honduras and am enjoying my time here, I am in a place of spiritual suffering--well, mainly, the death of self. I was listening to Brooke Fraser´s song ´´Lead Me to the Cross´´ and studying the Bible some yesterday, and I began to ask God, ´´What does Calvary involve?´´ Death. Silence in the face of adversity. Abandonment. A preparation for deeper intimacy with God (because afterward the Temple curtain split). Thirst.

Before pouring over the Gospels´accounts of the Crucifixion, I had read a little of that Mother Theresa book, and I was surprised by the underlying theme of thirst. In the book, a friend wrote of Mother Theresa:
It was the redeeming experience of her life when she realized that the night of her heart was the special share she had in Jesus´passion . . . Thus, we see that the darkness was actually the mysterious link that united her to Jesus. It is the contact of intimate longing for God. Nothing else can fill her mind. Such longing is possible only through God´s own hidden presence. We cannot long for something that is not intimately close to us. Thirst is more than absence of water. It is not experienced by stones, but only by the living beings that depend on water. Who knows more about living water, the person who opens the water tap daily without much thinking, or the thirst tortured traveler in the desert in search for a spring?

I noticed that in every account of the Crucifixion, one detail was consistently mentioned--the sour wine. Initially, Jesus was offered wine mixed with myrrh--a mild painkiller, but He refused it. I understand why Jesus refused this wine. First of all, it was a painkiller, and Jesus was called to be in a place of suffering. Taking this wine mixed with myrrh would have meant dodging some of the suffering, however small. It would have meant being disobedient to His calling. The other reason relates back to the Last Supper. In Luke 22, it says:
Taking the cup, he blessed it, then said, ´´Take this and pass it among you. As for me, I´ll not drink wine again until the kingdom of God arrives.´´ Thus, taking that cup, again, would have been a form of disobedience.

The idea of the cup is an important one as it does not just hold wine, but it also represents the task God had given Him. This is evident in all of the Gospels. For example, Matthew 26:42 says:
Again he prayed, ´´My Father, if there is no other way than this, drinking this cup to the dregs, I´m ready. Do it your way.´´
Luke 22 also says:
Father, remove this cup from me. But please, not what I want. What do you want?
John 18:11:
Jesus ordered Peter, ´´Put back your sword. Do you think for a minute I´m not going to drink this cup the Father gave me?´´

In every account of the Crucifixion, sour wine is mentioned in various contexts. The Gospel that shed the most light for me was John 19 when it says:
Jesus, seeing that everything had been completed so that the Scripture record might also be complete, then said, ´´I´m thirsty.´´ A jug of sour wine was standing by. Someone put a sponge soaked with the wine on a javelin and lifted it to his mouth. After he took the wine, Jesus said, ´´It´s done . . . complete.´´ Bowing his head, he offered up his spirit.

According to my interpretation of John in relation to the other scriptures, the Kingdom of God arrived while Jesus was still alive. He had said that He wouldn´t drink wine again until the Kingdom of God arrived. Thus, it arrived while He was still living as a human. Perhaps, then, the Kingdom of God arrived not in His physical death, but in His final death of self. Until that moment when He drank the wine and breathed His last, He still could have saved Himself. He still could have done it His own way, but He didn´t. Drinking the wine was the final acceptance of God´s will over His own since it brought about the arrival of God´s Kingdom and new covenant.

While I was studying this, the only dictionary I had was my Spanish-English dictionary. Just out of curiosity, I looked up ´´sour´´ because I wanted to understand the significance of why the wine that Jesus drank was sour. The verb ´´to sour´´ in relation to spoiling is ´´cortarse´´ which is also related to the verb meaning ´´to cut.´´ I found this to be very interesting because it led me to this interpretation: The wine was sour because in drinking it, Jesus was willingly cutting Himself off from the Father in the form of death and hell. In drinking the sour wine, His thirst was not quenched, and He drank the cup, dying His final spiritual death before dying physically.

It is also important to note the significance of the Last Supper and the fact that Jesus gave the cup to all of His disciples to drink. It was a cup of suffering, but cups can also be trophies, prizes. Thus, the cup of dying daily, of death of self, became the ultimate prize as Jesus´ follower. (It still is!) It is a cup of surrendering our will for the Father´s. It is only in taking this cup and drinking it to the depths that the Kingdom of God can arrive in us. Drinking this cup of the suffering of Jesus is the only way to truly be in the Kingdom of God. There is a huge difference between knowing of the Kingdom of God and walking in the Kingdom of God. It´s a line that is evident by the fruit a person produces with his or her life, how that person lives his or her life, and what is most important to that person. It is a line of difference that changes lives forever.

And so this is the place that God has led me. I am in a place of thirst. I am in a place of many desires, but like Jesus, I want to drink of His cup--not that those desires may be quenched, but that I could be in His Kingdom and that His Kingdom may arrive in me as a result of my choice to die to self. I am glad that He has led me to Calvary. I am thankful that He loves me enough to let me share in His suffering, to let me be intimate enough with Him that I can carry some of His burden. I am humbled by the privileged opportunity to allow the Kingdom of God to arrive in me. The opportunity is presented for all of us. It is a cup that He expects us to pass among ourselves, but how many of us will choose to drink?

Longing for His heart alone,
Sarah

Recibe Toda La Gloria

Hello All,
There was more that I meant to write about in regard to the weekend, so perhaps I´ll tackle a bit of it today. During church on Sunday, I found myself coming to God wanting nothing except a humble heart. I just asked God to take all of me, putting myself on His altar, with my greatest heart´s desire being that He would take the offering of my life (however small a gift it is). It has been my consistent prayer of late that God would make me a servant, the very least of these. I want to see Jesus in every single person and grasp what a great privilege it is to kneel in service before every person--no matter what their status is in the world. I fail so often at this, but I do want God to help me to die daily, to shed my selfishness, and to truly give me the heart of a servant. I picked up Mother Theresa´s book again yesterday, and I was reminded that her prayer was that she would refuse God nothing. I also want this to be my prayer--no matter how difficult.

Mother Theresa, according to Come Be My Light, suffered with an intense darkness in her soul even as she was pouring her life out for others. She felt abandoned and wondered in God´s silence if He loved her, but her actions demonstrate her faith in defiance of her feelings of despair--she told God that she was willing to endure the darkness, that she believed He did exist and did love her even when she couldn´t feel His presence, and she continued to obey, praying that she would continue to give Him everything He asked of her.

In Elisabeth Elliot´s book, Passion and Purity, she mentions how she asked God to either take away her desires or to fulfill them, and God´s response to her was that His desire was to teach her to want something better. This is the place where I find myself currently. I love Honduras. I so desire to be here, and there are so many elements to this place that fill my heart with labored longing. But, although God has placed those desires within me--my love for this place and this people--He also wants me to offer those back to Him as a sacrifice so that He can teach me to want something even better. It is not easy. I feel stubbornness rise up in me at times, and I have to submit to God once again. But, other times, like yesterday, God grants me a clarity of what He is teaching me to want--just His will and His glory. He is teaching me to want His best, to submit to His work instead of trying to conduct my own in His name. Sometimes, Christians fly into a frenzy of action and programs, projects and plans and say that they are doing ´´His work,´´ but at times, this work (the good) doesn´t actually cost us anything. His best always does. It costs us ourselves, and we must die daily, surrendering our good for His best.

On Sunday, Papí Alvin spoke from Isaiah and Genesis. He recounted the stories of Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel. He made the note that when Adam and Eve realized they were naked after they were disobedient, they tried to make clothes out of leaves to hide themselves. But these clothes did not cover them sufficiently; otherwise, God wouldn´t have had to make clothes for them out of animal skins. Papí then made the point that Cain´s offering to God was produce--from the earth and reminiscent of Adam´s attempts to right himself with God (which he could not do). Cain´s offering represented man´s attempts at self-sufficiency and the times when we come to God with our own works, trying to win His affection and approval. Abel´s offering of burnt animal sacrifice, on the other hand, was reminiscent of what God did for Adam and Eve. He made them clothes of animal skins to hide their nakedness. He sent His own Son as a sacrifice to right humanity with Himself. He did that--no human did, and no human could. Thus, Abel´s gift was pleasing to God because it represented the acceptance of what God does for us, rather than what we think we can do for Him. Just as it says in Romans 12, ´´Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for Him.´´ For me, this echoes that idea of our good versus God´s best as well.

My senior year in high school, I gave a presentation to a church about Honduras and the need to be more missions-minded. After the talk, various people in the church asked what they should do with the information I had just given them. It´s funny looking back on that moment because I was still in a place of learning that for myself, and my guess is that my answer was less than satisfactory. The tendency is to fly into a frenzy of urgent actions without a heart motivated by love or to despair over our lack of ability to help, sinking deeper into complacency. Neither is what God calls us to. The truth is that He calls us to seek Him and to be recklessly obedient. Seeking Him means being still--laying down our plans for action and any works we could bring Him of our own doing. Being obedient means that when He does show us what it is He is calling us to do--even when it is being still longer and only praying or when it is losing all of our life to become the least of these--that we do it, with bold and reckless abandon, secure in the promise of His best. As Jason Upton notes in his song, ´´Dying Star,´´ God calls us out of the whole, for the benefit of the whole, even when that means the very destruction of our own lives. And the truth is that it will always mean the destruction of our own lives because to be one with God and His kingdom means that self has to die daily.

On Sunday, both at the church in Tegus and from the church across the street in Esperanza, I heard the following song, and every time I hear it, it brings me to my knees with tears. It has become the deep prayer of my heart and a secret place in worship. While I realize it is in Spanish, if you have the chance to listen to it, please do so with an open heart.
Recibe Toda La Gloria
Receive All the Glory
Quiero levantar a tí mis manos
I want to lift my hands to You
Maravilloso Jesús
Marvelous Jesus
Milagroso Señor
Miraculous Lord

Llena este lugar con tu presencia
Fill this place with Your presence
Y has descender tu poder a los que estamos aquí
And send Your power to all who are here

Creo en tí, Jesús
I believe in You, Jesus
Y lo que aras en mí
And what you are cultivating in me
En mí, en mí
In me, in me

Recibe toda la gloria
Receive all the glory
Toda la honra
All of the honor
Precioso hijo de Dios
Precious Son of God

That´s really all I am learning to want--His glory in all things, even at the expense of myself and my desires. I have been learning slowly for a few years now how to be more intimate with God. Initially, the lesson was allowing God to truly know me even when that meant being flawed and vulnerable. Then, the lesson was to receive God´s love deeply, to let Him show me how He sees me, and to forgive myself as He forgives me. Now, I am learning that being intimate with someone is not always an enjoyable experience in the superficial sense of the word. Being that close with someone also entails carrying their burdens. Suffering with them. While it is a meager example, I see this as being true in my experiences with Roy. He is constantly running, constantly has something to do and someone to help. He very rarely gets a second of rest, and he willingly spends his life as a servant for others. There are times when he is in a time crunch or simply has far too many things to accomplish, and he feels stress. And when I´m around him, it reaches a point where I, too, literally feel his stress. Every time he sighs, I feel heavier. Every time he rubs his hands over his weary eyes or simply cannot stifle another yawn, I feel that, and I long to relieve the burden, to give him rest, even when I can´t. The point is that there is also a closeness to reach with God where we share in the suffering of Jesus and in the suffering of Jesus in others. He calls us to an intimacy where we carry His burdens. And this is the kind of intimacy I want to dedicate myself to.

Anyway, with those thoughts in mind, I want to tell you also a little bit about my precious students here. They light up my day in a way that I can´t begin to express.

None of my students have electricity in their homes in Chiligatoro. There is only one house that has electricity there, and it belongs to the patriarch and community leader of the entire pueblo. My students come to school dirty with holes in their clothes and worn shoes on their feet. (I´m so grateful they have shoes!) It is cold in Chiligatoro. The teachers wear gloves, and sometimes, the uniforms of the students are quite thin. The decaying of my students teeth is actually visible. They are often quiet and shy, sucking on their fingers (no matter their age) or speaking so softly that you can´t understand them. Other students are quite confident and readily talk in class and address me boldly as ´´Sarita.´´ All of my students are brilliant, truly. I am so blessed by how they are learning and how they desire to learn more. My first graders run up to us and yell, ´´yellow,´´ and ´´green.´´ My sixth graders beg everyday for English class (even when it´s not their day to have class), and they catch me during free time to learn even more. All of my students have such vibrant energy. The boys utilize every single second of spare time to play soccer, and they have been using the same, worn, plastic ball since I´ve been here. Today, that ball had a hole in it, so they patched it with a piece of chewing gum. At lunch, the mothers take turns bringing food, and they eat the catracho usual--rice and beans, tortillas, and occasionally soup or oatmeal. They grin every time I tell them ´´buen provecho´´ as is custom here. (It is wishing someone a good meal.) Every child, no matter how young or old, cannot help but smile back at me when I smile at them. And many have now graduated to daily hugs. I am slowly learning their names, and the children are so ecstatic when I remember them personally. (Please pray that I can learn as many as possible!) I love my students dearly, and I will miss them so very much when I leave.

I don´t necessarily know the detailed purposes of this trip to Honduras--there seem to be many, actually. But one thing I want to leave this place with is the heart of a servant and a lifestyle dedicated to obedience, in such a way that He truly receives all the glory.

Humbled,
Sarah

Admiring Home

Hello All,
Well, I had an amazing weekend. Thursday, Roy picked me up, and we went on some mandatos and stopped for a breather at a coffee place. It was really nice. Then it was back to life as usual in Tegus. I helped Sara cook dinner for the team, and we made sandwiches for street ministry.

I went with Alvin, the Danish team, Cesar and Patricia (from Belize), and mis hermanitos (Kevin and Bladimir). All I can really say about it is that I was home. Talking to the regulars that were high on glue was completely normal for me. I saw Kevin, a friend that my family made in 2007, who is still living on the streets. He was so pleased that I remembered his name. When I live here, I want to go with Alvin to visit the street kids whenever he goes by himself without teams. After we had made all of our stops, Alvin stopped at a flat place near the stadium overlooking the whole city. It´s a phenomenal view. I was standing beside him just soaking it all in, thinking about how I can´t wait to live here. Out of the corner of my eye, I happened to catch Papí Alvin staring at me and grinning. I looked over and said, ´´What?´´ And he just smiled and said, ´´Admiring your home?´´ I just grinned and said yes. I´m so glad that he knows that Honduras is my home.

Friday and Saturday, I helped Mamí Sara cook for the team. It felt so good to be washing dishes at Alvin´s again, surrounded by mis hermanitos and lovely family. It just amazes me how at home I feel with everyone there.

I had such a difficult time leaving today. As soon as I got on the bus to go back to Esperanza, I started crying. I have no idea why. I just didn´t want to leave. I´m such a weirdo. I won´t be going back to Tegus next weekend though because it is the birthday of my host mother in Esperanza, and they´re having a big birthday party for her. So I will be staying here. If I´m crying just leaving Tegucigalpa, I can only imagine how difficult it will be to leave for the US. Oh, brokenness. . .we are becoming close friends.

With love,
Sarah

Lazy Day

Today was a slow day. We got two new volunteers yesterday--Astrid and Laura. Astrid is 19 and is from England while Laura is 30 and is from Argentina although both of them reside in the States. Laura is working with the IHNFA, and Astrid is doing construction work all by herself. They are both quite nice.

School was anti-climactic today. Wednesdays are our easy day anyway since we only have 3 classes, but today we only had one. The whole school seemed to be in the midst of testing or a physical education day. So, I spent the morning just visiting with my kids. I´m trying to learn more names. My sixth graders were wandering around (who knows what they were doing), and they asked me to sit with them and teach them the days of the week, the months of the year, and numbers. The boys later left to go play soccer, but some of my girls stayed with me and played with my hair. I love my students. I love how very at ease I am with all of them. The only class we ended up having was the A section of fourth grade. It went well although it was not as smooth as the B section.

Tomorrow, my host family is leaving for Roatan, and the rest of the volunteers are leaving for Utila. Thus, with no one home, I am headed to Tegus yet again and early at that! :) Roy asked me why I wasn´t going with everyone else to Utila, and I just explained that I have a very limited time here in Honduras. People are always the most important to me, and I would rather spend time with my family in Tegus while I can rather than travel.

Lots of love,
Sarah

Nuevos Amigos

Hello All,
I had a wonderful weekend in Tegus, and I got to see Alvin! I was so blessed by his willingness to take time to visit with me. I spent the weekend with my girls and helping Tía Sara prepare for a Danish team and a couple from Belize that are staying at Alvin´s this week. (The couple from Belize are so amazing! Our interactions were so natural, and it was so easy to get along with them.) It was so nice to be back in that house that feels so much like home. I haven´t really been keeping track of time since I´ve been here, but occasionally, I get a reminder that I´ll have to leave at some point, and I undergo a wave of sadness. This place is home. I love it here, and once again, it will be very difficult to leave--although the abundant promises of God will make it easier.

I had a very interesting bus ride yesterday. I took the very last bus from Tegus--at 5. I made a knew friend on the ride--a man name Cesar who is a lawyer in Tegus. It was such a God thing to meet him. There was a man preaching on the bus for almost an hour--this is a pretty common occurrence actually. He was quite passionate in what he was saying, and I could see where his tone of voice could be interpreted as forceful or even angry. I was watching the reactions of people on the bus as this man was saying that if you don´t believe in God, you´re dead. And I was pondering the methodology. I have been asking God to teach me how to witness. I have been so burnt by church formulas for witnessing, so brainwashed by step-by-step blanket approaches, etc., that I don´t feel like I truly know how to share Jesus with someone else. This, however, is the perfect place to me because every person is different. Witnessing is meant to be a natural outpouring of Jesus´ love for someone else. It´s not meant to be contrived. It should be as natural as breathing. With this in mind, I listened to the preacher and asked that God would speak to me through the situation.

After the man spoke, Cesar and I began to talk. Cesar felt threatened by the man. He felt as if the man´s tone was angry and didn´t convey the love of God. He felt as if the man wanted to fight, and Cesar wanted to provoke him to fight. I listened and offered as much of a stabilizing reasoning as I could, but I also understood Cesar´s point. I explained to Cesar that I understood that it was much easier to receive God´s love through someone who is a consistent friend, who meets you where you are, who knows your struggle, rather than through someone who invades your life for only a moment on a bus. I know in my heart that God can work through both, and perhaps, in the case of Cesar, He will work through both the preacher and me. I don´t know. But it was lovely to meet Cesar. He offered to pay my bus fare, and when he got off in Comayagua, he told me that he really enjoyed my company--a random, gringa stranger. We exchanged e-mail addresses at his suggestion, so I hope to continue to show the love of Jesus to Cesar however possible. I am so blessed by the people that God places on my path here.

Today, we got a ride back from the school from a man who works for World Vision. This man, Nelson, and I swapped World Vision stories since I worked for World Vision in West Virginia for a summer. It was such a blessing to meet him as well. He was very kind, let us ride inside the truck, and didn´t charge us.

Anyway, teaching went so very well today! I was so proud of my second grade boys. They remembered so much of the alphabet that we had gone over. First grade is still a ridiculous challenge. I don´t know that they´re going to learn or retain anything, but we have fun with them anyway. We made name tags to try to help us learn the students´names. It was such a good idea to do so! The kids respond so much better to the personal mention of their names. They have all learned my name, and at the end of class, after I had made a point to learn the names of the students in my group, I was swarmed with hugs. We played sound bingo with the sixth grade. It went amazingly well. I was so blessed by how much our students remembered and how excited they are to learn. I truly love teaching there, and I love my students very much.

Until next time,
Sarita

Romans 12

Romans 12:
So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life--your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life--and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity; God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

I have learned that any time in my life when I feel as if I am struggling, fighting myself or my circumstances, or simply not resting in the sleep of God's will, I am not fully surrendered. I need to let go of the illusion of control of whatever it is I'm grasping too tightly. Sometimes, it is health--thinking I can will myself to get better, instead of trusting God to heal me. Sometimes, it is just trying to do too much--instead of letting God control my time and commitments. Sometimes, it is my finances--worrying for no reason when I know fully that God has always provided for me. Sometimes, it is holding too tightly to people that are dear to me--instead of surrendering them to the hands of God. A lot of times, it is unconscious, and it is only when I get still with God that I see it. His yoke is light, and the more I let go and put in God's hands (even when it means surrender and sacrifice of my desires and control), the more peace I have. Life is not a struggle when I trust every last detail to Him.

Yesterday, I read Revolution in World Missions by K.P. Yohannan. I would definitely recommend this book. I was fighting tears throughout the entire thing because it is so convicting. I can't even put into words everything that God showed me from this book because it hasn't all fully sunken in yet. All that I can really convey is that it reminded me of the true heart of missions--reaching those that are lost or in darkness with Jesus. It's just that simple. It's not about humanitarian work or education programs (although I know God can use those). It's not about food or handouts (although God can use those as well). It is just about Jesus. Period. With this in mind, the load of missions is lifted, because it's His work, not ours. We are only called to be obedient with reckless abandon. We are just the vessels, the mouthpieces. In some cases, our humanitarian work and the meeting of physical needs is a "good" thing that proves to be an obstacle for His best thing--the simple sharing of Jesus, salvation of people right where they are.

I've really been searching, seeking God as to what He plans for me to do when I move here. I imagined trying to drum up financial support with a complete loss for what I was going to "do," where that money would "go." In short, it was a fear of mine. Through that book, though, I learned that this is the way it needs to be for me. This is not my work, it's His. If it is all surrendered to Him, I don't need to "do" anything; He will make the way. Being a missionary is quite simple--it's sharing Jesus with people that don't know Him. I don't have to have a task or a title or even a plan. It's just Jesus. He will always show me where to go. I know this.

I find myself in the refiner's fire here. I am being stripped of my own ideas and plans, and I once again, find myself in the place of Abraham. God has given me a gift, a blessing for which I have prayed and waiting diligently, and now He is asking me if I trust Him and love Him enough to lay the very thing He gave me on His altar. It is difficult and painful. But I want His perfect best. I don't want to settle for the "good" at the expense of His best. Thus, all is surrendered to His altar. And once again, I feel peace.

I encourage you that if there is something within your life that you are fighting--as demonstrated by worrying about it, constantly bouncing thoughts about it around in your mind, feeling torn about it, or not being able to imagine your life without control over it--to surrender it. Understand that this kind of surrender is accompanied by obedience. There is no way around it. We can't give something to God with our own conditions. "God, I'll surrender this aspect of my life, if this happens. . ." or "God, I'll be obedient in letting go of this problem, if you make the circumstances go this way. . ." It doesn't work that way. Surrendering means obedience with reckless abandon. You don't know how it's going to work out. You are totally in the dark. But you believe and trust that He is a God who loves you desperately and will always work His best for you when you allow Him to do so. It's just that simple.

I want to walk the road of Romans 12. I am placing all of my life on the altar as an offering to the Father. I don't want to struggle against myself or my circumstances. I want to gladly embrace what He does for me--in my health, in my finances, in my future, in my relationships, in my daily activities, in EVERYTHING! I have learned that our obedience or disobedience or even hesitation to obey does not just affect us. It will inevitably affect someone else. I want to be obedient and wait for His best not just for myself, but because I know that the lives of others, the well-being of others, are related to my decision of surrender. God doesn't need me. I am not so important that He can't do His work without me, but I want in on it. I want to be whatever it is He has called me to be--humble, obedient, a servant for His kingdom, forgetting my own.

With humble love,
Sarah

A God of the Details

Hello All,
I made it to the bus station yesterday by 6 AM, but the bus didn't leave until 7. I was initially rather frustrated by this because I had tried to get there by 6 to make it to the station by 10--the time that Roy had told me was most convenient for him. I knew that he would never complain and would come at any time that I needed him to, but I wanted to make his life easier. So, all I could do was just pray that God would work out the perfect timing. Roy constantly has a million and one things to do, and the last thing I want to be is a burden for him especially when I know that he doesn't have to pick me up or take me anywhere. After a seemingly endless ride, I arrived at the station at 11, and he was patiently waiting there to meet me.

On our ride home, he told me of how insane the day before had been for him and how hectic yesterday already was. So many crazy things had happened the day before--a flat tire, a friend's motor bike that broke down and had to be fixed twice, police stops gone awry, lots of chores and errands, and new friends made. It was a hilarious story, really, because it detailed the grace and hand of God in so many situations that were out of Roy's control. And furthermore, Roy told me that the arrival of my bus was perfect timing for him because of how his errands had worked out. I was quite grateful for God's attention to detail in this way.

Although yesterday's bus ride was long and hot and made me a bit carsick, waking up this morning in my bed, in my room with my girls, made it all worth it. Yesterday was a pretty tranquil day. I raided Tia Sally's library and read Sacred Journeys by Wendy Murray Zoba, who has lived in Honduras while her husband pastored a church. It was a good book.

Today, the girls, the aunts, and I are headed up to Alvin's house to prep for a team coming tomorrow. Lots of cleaning, washing, and cooking to do. Alvin will be here before I have to head back to Esperanza, and I am looking forward to seeing my Papi! And I'm sure with everything going on here, I'm not going to want to go back. But, I do enjoy teaching, and I'm thankful for that opportunity.

Thanks for reading!
Sarah

El Viejito

Hello All,
Well, I had quite an interesting day today. We missed teaching our first class (the third grade) because we couldn´t find a ride up there in time. La Esperanza is a sleepy town, and there seems to be no set routine of people always coming and going to Chiligatoro. Thus, we waited for quite a while until we found a truck to take us. Today, we had fifth, one section of fourth, and sixth grade. It went very well.

For all classes, we reviewed the alphabet, the sounds, and taught them the concept of long and short vowels. For this reason of the vowels, I did most of the teaching before we broke off into groups. I loved it. The students very quickly got the concept of long and short vowels through examples and my explanations in Spanish. I was quite proud of my students. After I felt confident that they got the concept, we broke into groups. The three of us--Lindsay, Marie Claire, and I--all have very different teaching styles although we build off of each other´s ideas. Because of a lack of a lot of visuals, I tend to utilize a kinesthetic teaching style. Recalling tactics from my Spanish teacher, I use a lot of games and repetition. I tend to shy away from vocabulary at this point, and I won´t move on to another concept until I feel confident that the vast majority of the group understands. At times, this means that I don´t seem to make a lot of progress, but I would rather that the students very solidly understand one concept rather than only have a superficial understanding of many.

The fourth grade teacher was watching me teach and also watching me work with my group. She pulled me aside after class and told me that I was doing an excellent job. She said that she really appreciated my use of repetition so that each child learns individually and doesn´t get lost. I was very humbled by her kind words. Fifth grade was a little more difficult to keep at attention, but I did have a few very enthusiastic students which is always a blessing. Sixth grade, I won´t lie, has stolen my heart. I love that I can teach them using the basis of their own language and that I can make jokes with them as the maturing young adults that they are. They have now started calling me ´´Sarita´´ as well. I love them. I love watching their faces light up when they know that they understand and proudly tell me the right answer.

After class, we got a ride from a very nice man who didn´t charge us. I am always so blessed by the Hondurans who are strangers that choose to help us. There are many, but like in any place, there are also those who are not so kind.

I had a very strange and infuriating thing happen today:
I was walking on the street where we live, a mere three houses or so down the road. I had just called Roy and was talking to him (in Spanish, naturally). Walking toward me was an older man, perhaps in his sixties although I didn´t really get a good look at him. I was trying to stay out of his way, so I walked a little closer to a truck parked on the side of the road to give him more room. But, instead of going his own way, he walked right up to me and had me trapped between him and the truck. I didn´t know what was going on and thought that perhaps he was drunk. As I was still talking to Roy, this man got right in my face and said something in Spanish to the effect of, ´´You should not be here in this country. You don´t belong here. If you stay here, I will kill you.´´ I was very startled, but I kept walking past him as soon as a little bit of space opened up. As I walked past, he smacked me on the butt. I was livid. Poor Roy got his first taste of the Sarah Crickenberger angry earful--quite a quick change from our previous happy conversation. I am so very glad that I was on the phone with him though because he provided enough of a confidence and distraction from the situation at hand that I believe I was better able to get away. Although he was very concerned and was asking me about all the details, he was also quite calming for me. While I was angrily running my mouth and trying not to cry, he listened patiently and comforted me. After our conversation, while I was still angry, I also more readily recognized that it was something spiritual. I have been reading in 1 Peter, and I found myself reviewing it after this incident:

What a God we have! And how fortunate we are to have him, this Father of our Master Jesus! Because Jesus was raised from the dead, we´ve been given a brand-new life and have everything to live for, including a future in heaven--and the future starts now! God is keeping careful watch over us and the future. The Day is coming when you´ll have it al--life healed and whole. I know how great this makes you feel, even though you have to put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime. Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffering comes out proved genuine. When Jesus wraps this all up, it´s your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of his victory. . . . So roll up your sleeves, put your mind in gear, be totally ready to receive the gift that´s coming when Jesus arrives. . . . You call out to God for help and he helps--he´s a good Father that way. . . . Your life is a journey that you must travel with a deep consciousness of God. . . . It´s because of this sacrificed Messiah, whom God then raised from the dead and glorified, that you trust God, that you know you have a future in God.
1 Peter 1

What counts is that you put up with it for God´s sake when you´re treated badly no good reason. . . . if you´re treated badly for good behavior and continue in spite of it to be a good servant, that is what counts with God. This is the kind of life you´ve been invited into, the kind of life Christ lived. He suffered everything that came his way so that you would know that it could be done, and also know how to do it, step-by-step. He never did one thing wrong. Never once said anything amiss. They called him every name in the book and he said nothing back. He suffered in silence, content to let God set things right.
1 Peter 2

If with heart and soul you´re doing good, do you think you can be stopped? Even if you suffer for it, you´re still better off. Don´t give the opposition a second thought. Through thick and thin, keep your hearts at attention, in adoration before Christ, your Master. . . . It´s better to suffer for doing good, if that´s what God wants, than to be punished for doing bad. That´s what Christ did definitively: suffered because of others´sins, the Righteous One for the unrighteous ones. He went through it all--was put to death and then made alive--to bring us to God.
1 Peter 3

Friends, when life gets really difficult, don´t jump to the conclusion that God isn´t on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refinining process, with glory just around the corner. If you´re abused because of Christ, count yourself fortunate. It´s the Spirit of God and his glory in you that brought you to the notice of others. . . . So if you find life difficult because you´re doing what God said, take it in stride. Trust him. He knows what he´s doing, and he´ll keep on doing it.
1 Peter 4

Keep a cool head. Stay alert. The Devil is poised to pounce, and would like nothing better than to catch you napping. Keep your guard up. . . . keep a firm grip on the faith. The suffering won´t last forever. It won´t be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ--eternal and glorious plans they are!--will have you put together and on your feet for good.
1 Peter 5

I don´t find it to be any accident that this was the book that has been on my heart this week. I don´t find it to be any accident that this incident happened to me and none of the other girls. I don´t even find it to be any accident that I was on the phone with Roy when this happened. It´s all spiritual. Although I was initially angry, I now take this incident as a great blessing--a sign of my obedience in being here now and a further confirmation that I am called to this country. Why else would a complete stranger threaten to kill me in broad daylight in the presence of numerous people for being in this country? I have never had anything like this happen in Honduras before. Thus, I rest in the security of His protection. I take joy in the knowledge that the fruition of His promises is imminent, and I am grateful for this tiny, minute measure of suffering.

Anyway, there is some sort of a seminar tomorrow at the school, and classes are cancelled. Thus, I plan to take a very early bus to reach Tegus as soon as possible. I miss it so much! Off to see Papi Alvin!

With love,
Sarah