Confessions of a Ragamuffin: June 2012

Hello All,

Greetings from the US! I have now been here nearly two weeks, but before I update you on how the trip home has been thus far, I wanted to backtrack to tell you about the amazing last week I had before leaving Honduras.

Birthdays

As you can see from the pictures and as previously mentioned in the last post, we celebrated Raúl’s 24th birthday on May 24th and my 23rd birthday on May 26th. I think we tried to out-do each other in birthday surprises. I’m wondering if this isn’t going to be a trend every year even though I suggested that we spend our birthdays next year celebrating together but resting. I got up really early on the morning of his birthday to decorate his business before he got there. I made two cakes and collaborated all week with his family and friends to plan a surprise birthday party. We had lots of food, friends, and family gathered at his mom’s house in Tatumbla for a good surprise. They all gathered before us, and it was my job to make sure that he drove us both out to Tatumbla when everyone was ready, but he sure made persuading him to go (given that it’s the rainy season, and we were going to be on a motor bike) very difficult. It was a great surprise, and we had a wonderful time giving him birthday prayers, birthday speeches, and trying to shove his face in his cake (a Honduran tradition). Overall, I think he felt very loved which was a sufficient birthday gift for me.

However, he outdid himself in everything he did for my birthday. While this may seem off-topic, for those of you who have been reading this blog for a while, you might remember that when I was in Honduras in 2009, when asking God what I was doing there at that time, God led me to the story of Elizabeth when she was pregnant with John the Baptist. He made it clear that, as The Message puts it, I was “relishing a pregnancy.” I kind of forgot about this word and thought perhaps it finished when I was in Honduras in 2010 simply because of how much time had passed, but really, I never felt closure about it. But, I forgot about it—until the night before my birthday. Bessy and Carlitos and Hermana Sandra from our church had been house sitting for Alvin and Nelly while they were in Denmark, so Raúl and I were sitting at the table talking with them about birthdays, the days and times we were born, etc. Even though I can’t really explain it, even in that moment even though I was surrounded by other people, I felt a deep loneliness coming on. As mentioned in the last post, I had just been so spiritually exhausted and lonely leading up to that point. Hermana Sandra looked at me and was talking about giving birth, and she said something that, while she might not have known at the time, I knew was very prophetic. She said, “Right before you have a baby—the night before—an unspeakable sadness comes over you. It’s hard to explain, but it’s just a deep sadness. By the next day, though, you have this new baby, and you’re just full of joy. But, the night before is long and dark.” What she said stuck with me, and I was immediately reminded of that “relishing a pregnancy” word from 2009. That evening, as Raúl was leaving, he pulled me aside and said, “Hey, I’m getting ready to leave. Are you okay? You going through something? You look like something’s going on.” At that moment, while I could feel the sadness, I couldn’t really explain why I was sad, so I brushed it off, not wanting to bother him as he was getting ready to leave. But, I went to my apartment and just started to cry. Like I said, I can’t fully explain it. Since I’ve lived in Honduras, I have been continuously reminded of just how introverted I tend to be. I often find it so difficult to trust people and truly let them in, and it often takes me a long time to let my guard down to build real friendships. It’s funny because I can tell myself that I’m just waiting for a friend to come along and that there just isn’t anyone when often, I am the one walling others out. Thus, that sadness that Hermana Sandra talked about came over me in a way I can’t explain. I sobbed much of the night and didn’t sleep. I kept telling God, “There’s nothing left. I am so exhausted. I am so empty. I can’t carry all of this on my own any more. I need love and some relief.” I told God I just wanted Him to knock me out when I got to the US because I was so exhausted, and I begged Him for an encounter with Him on my birthday because I just couldn’t see myself functioning without His presence. I was so desperate. But, as always, God is so faithful.

At 3:30 AM, I heard guitar music outside of my apartment door. I opened the door to find Raúl; Nahum; Carlitos; Bessy; Raúl’s brother, Walter; my Danish boys; and two friends of Raúl’s from Tatumbla playing guitars. I was astounded. They sang birthday songs before coming into my home to sing some more and do birthday prayers. Hermana Sandra came down and led the direction of praying. She had Nahum start, and after only a few of his words, I started crying—sobbing, ugly crying, etc. As mentioned, I was so desperate. So Hermana Sandra told everyone that he or she needed to take a turn hugging me and praying over me because I had needed to receive that love for a long time. She was right. Being someone who (if you’ve read Gary Chapman’s The Five Love Languages, you’ll understand) receives love through quality time and physical touch, I can’t express what that physical closeness from those embraces meant to me. Nearly all of the prayers—from Raúl and Carlitos, Hermana Sandra and Walter—talked of letting God ease my loneliness, receiving encouragement from the Holy Spirit, not allowing the enemy to beat me down, and to begin to walk in the fullness of the gifts that God has given me. I don’t know what all God was doing in those moments during those prayers and during the worship that followed, but there were tears that weren’t just my own, and God’s presence was there. God gave me my only birthday wish—an encounter with Him—and much sooner than I expected. After encouraging and loving birthday speeches, we had a breakfast of pancakes and sweet bread. I learned later that Raúl planned it all. When he left after asking me how I was, he went to Tatumbla to pick up the two guys (who had to work that day after so little sleep—Hondurans are so amazingly generous and kind to strangers). Then he wandered around at midnight looking for sweet bread to feed us. He didn’t sleep. Before leaving for work, he invited me out for the evening. I felt so bad for the baby because I knew he had to be exhausted, and he was working hard all day.

But, he showed up right on time. He took me to a mall and said, “I’m really complicated, and I had no idea what to get you. So, you can go in any of these stores and pick out whatever you want. It doesn’t matter what it costs.” While it was very sweet, it was also one of the worst ideas for someone who hates shopping (especially with other people) and who is terrible about making small decisions under pressure. The excursion ended with him picking something out for me anyway. After some ice cream and stopping to buy some eggs (I’m not too bright), we headed home. He said he figured he was going to go to sleep, and I was glad because I knew he was so tired, but then he invited me to talk to him on the porch where another surprise was waiting. The whole porch was decorated, and friends were waiting to celebrate with cake and pizza that he bought. We played games, and I was given the traditional Honduran baptism in birthday eggs to round out the evening. Overall, I was so overwhelmed by everything that he and the rest of my special friends did to make my birthday special. It was one I will not soon forget because God made His love for me so real through so many precious people, especially the kindness of Raúl.

I don’t know what exactly happened within me in that early morning encounter with God, but something just broke. It’s as if the walls I’d had up all that time came down to allow myself to really receive love from my Honduran friends and family, and it changed my interactions and level of closeness with them. I think for the first time since moving, I allowed myself to fully feel like I belonged and to recognize that not only did I feel called to Honduras and want to be there out of obedience, but that my life was having some kind of an impact on those around me enough for Hondurans to want me to be there too.

Leaving Honduras

In the days that followed, Raúl continued to out-do himself, taking me and other friends to Tatumbla for lunch at his mom’s business, planning a delicious going-away meal for me, and taking a whole vanload of us out to dinner the night before I flew out. (If you know much about Hondurans or Raúl, it’s not surprising that all of that involved food. Ha ha.) I think what meant the most to me was his willingness to just be in close proximity and to spend quality time with me before I left, especially in little things like walking home with me from his business. After waiting for such a long time to feel like I really had a close friend, my developing friendship with Raúl was such a blessing and made leaving Honduras more difficult (or perhaps easier to want to come back to).

I had a send-off at the airport by Bessy, Quendy, and Waldina (Raúl’s sister) along with Raúl who drove us. I think this may be the first time since my very first time leaving Honduras that I didn’t cry in the airport. (The first trip in 2007, I didn’t cry until I got to Miami.) After two flights and some waiting, I was met by my brother and my dad after not seeing them for nine months.

Life in the US

I won’t lie—every time I’ve ever come back to the US from Honduras, I typically spend a period of time (usually 3 to 6 months) in culture shock and in a devastated sense of restlessness and homesickness for Honduras. This trip was no exception in terms of culture shock even though I now live in Honduras, and my life and sense of home are fully there. The first week I was here, I struggled with feeling overwhelmed—from listening to people’s conversations in Houston airport, from not being able to find plantains at the local grocery store, from feeling disconnected from loved ones in Honduras, from being under time pressure, and from feeling like I live in two different worlds that in many ways contradict each other. I am a person of intense loyalty, so that disconnect between those two worlds initially left me feeling torn. It took some time of seeking God to help me realize that I don’t have to pick or be loyal to one or the other, that I can be a part of God’s culture and His Kingdom and simply love people of both countries and cultures right where they are. It’s difficult, and I’m not great at it, but that release was so what I needed. I still so desire for my two worlds to be more connected in terms of my family and close friends getting to meet my Honduran family and friends. And in terms of someone from Honduras getting to come to the US with me at some point to have a better understanding of what the last 20-something years of my life have been like. But, all of that is in good time. For now, I am so blessed that my family is so willing to listen to my stories and that my Honduran family is so quick to ask how my US family members are doing.

In the two weeks I’ve been back, I’ve had some treasured time with my family and my best friend/cousin/former road trip buddy, Gabrielle. This past weekend, we went on a camping trip with my cousins, my grandmother, my aunt, my immediate family, and a family that has been friends with my family for many years. It was a great time. It was fun to be around the people I can always be silly with and have some time to just relax and remember childhood. (It was also fun to see that my brother and I—we really could have been twins—still kill at playing the board game, Cranium.) In the two weeks or so that remain, I will be cramming in more visits with friends and a bit of traveling around the state to see the places I have called home.

Restoration

I do feel like I am being restored as I so needed to be. As odd as it may sound, being back in the US has only strengthened my assurance that I am called to Honduras, and for that reason, I am chomping at the bit to get back. Everything in my life right now keeps telling me that now is the time to go deeper with God and to start fulfilling His calling on my life in a radical way. For the first time in a while, I feel that old spark of excitement to see what God is going to do next. He proved Himself to be so faithful right before I left. This life is so short. After being out of the US for only nine months, I am astounded by the things that are transpiring in the government and in national trends. We were never meant to be of this world, and we, as Christians, cannot afford to be bought and sold by a system of the world. We can’t afford to sleep or to be complacent. There is a dying world out there full of people who have never heard of Jesus. Who else will be Jesus to them but us?

I feel as if my being so introverted is one of those weaknesses that Paul talks about in Corinthians, and I am beginning to learn that if I let it (and insecurity) silence me instead of taking my rightful authority as the daughter of the King, I will always miss out on opportunities that God had for more depth with Him. If I don’t take hold of the boldness necessary to open my mouth even when I feel intimidated, who knows what kind of blessings, healing, and hope I am withholding from other people. I don’t want that kind of responsibility on my hands, and I don’t want the regret of that lost privilege to weigh on my heart later. Thus, my current prayer is that God would give me the strength to walk in His fullness and to be more sensitive to His voice. On my birthday, one of the guys from Tatumbla told me, once again, that scripture from Psalm 37: Delight in Me, and I will give you the desires of your heart. And he also mentioned passages of Isaiah 58 which has always been a verse pertinent to my life and calling. While I may have felt lost all of this time, God has not lost sight of His vision of my future or my calling. For that, I am so grateful.

As always, thank you so much for reading and keeping up with me.

All my love,
Sarah