June 27, 2007
My fellow lovers of laughter,
It is Tuesday night here at the Farm, and extremely difficult to believe that our time here is almost halfway over. I am quickly beginning to realize that two months is not nearly enough time to even scratch the surface of this labor of love which has already captured our hearts.
Atop a greenish chalkboard in our 4th grade aula is written, "A day lived for God is a rare adventure." So many adventures, both big and small. The adventure of this summer, the adventure to give love away, the adventure of true openness to walk with God. I am learning what it means to live God's adventure with a heart that is completely and beautifully free.
A few snapshots of my free-spirited adventure:
My running shoes and chaco sandals carefully dodge stones, splash through rivers and sink into sandy beaches as I run, hike, and carry 4-year-olds through the lush, cloud-topped mountains. My stomach has held up remarkably well as I indulge in baleadas, topagillos, and plenty of rice and beans. Despite plentiful bug bites and a few strange rashes, my body serves me well and even enjoyed its first bucket shower this past week :) My "mente" (mind), though often tired, is stretching and growing rapidly, and was put to good use on Friday as I served as a translator for an international medical brigade from Arkansas.
Last weekend, I had the joy of attending my very first Honduran wedding, as the entire Finca community was invited just a few minutes down the beach to celebrate the "boda" of an old vol and her new husband. Dogs and two-year-olds plopping down in the aisle, totally off-key singing and a gorgeous sunset made for an experience that was pretty "diferente" but totally beautiful. Afterwards, joined by the oldest Finca boys, my fellow vols and some only-moderately-sketchy local Honduran men, I shook my gringa hips under the bright starry sky until the wee hours of the morning. I dance with light feet and a light heart.
Last night I wrote by the light of a single candle and listened to the sounds of explosive laughter and harmonies of voices singing alleluia resonating through our house which is so filled with geckoes and love. I joined the oldest boys from House 5 as they taught me to fish and hunt "cangrejos" (crabs) by the light of the moon. I sat by a campfire on the beach, was dragged into the sparkling water (fully clothed) and floated on my back with my Honduran brothers, looking at the stars and the cloudy sky illuminating the tops of mountains in the distance. Yesterday my soul sister Cassidy and I ran on the beach during an afternoon "tormenta" (storm), letting the cold rain pelt our faces and soak our clothes, diving head-first into the warm, choppy waters, yelling out to the mountains until explosive thunder sent gringa free sprits running, shrieking, laughing inside for cover.
And although my Spanish is far from "completa", I am learning to speak a far more beautiful language… the language of love. What does it mean to love as God does? What does it mean to love a child? It means immense vulnerability… and relentless forgiveness. I speak the language of love as 2-year-old Rosita runs to me with open arms and points to the moon… as little boys plop down in my lap… as I have a spontaneous post-dinner bachata-style dance party with 6-year-olds. They are my greatest teachers and the best part of my adventure.
And so my prayer is to be open to the ultimate adventure of dancing with the King, to learn what it means to love with reckless abandon, to allow my soul the freedom to sing of His marvelous light. I pray to seek His fingerprints in all faces and moments, to let my heart beat with the quiet reminder that this life is not my own, to pour out day after day after day, again and again. I am a work in progress, broken and poured out, yearning to sing long and loud and beautifully the melody the great Composer has placed in my heart.
Sing well.
Erin
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
so much grace.
June 16, 2007
Hermanos y hermanas,
Peace and blessings from the Finca! Cassidy and I just returned from dipping our feet in the warm Caribbean, watching one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen … and then dodged a chicken to enter the Finca office to type our emails. Pretty surreal.
Today is Friday, June 15th, and it's hard to believe that our time here is already a fourth over. We've settled into the rhythm of Finca life here pretty quickly, and although this past week has been quite difficult at times, we are learning and growing in pretty amazing ways. I am learning to jump in head-first to this crazy-beautiful adventure, which is full of laughter and pain and hugs and tears and so, so much grace.
Teaching is a daily rollercoaster, and I really struggled with feelings of inadequacy this past week. Being here is immensely humbling, and I constantly question what I'm actually doing here. The language barrier continues to be difficult (pecadores = sinners, pescadores = fish… haha…) but is improving, and I feel myself getting more comfortable speaking and understanding both in and out of the classroom. The kids at the Escuela Catolica de San Pedro (where we teach on the Farm) can be wonderful, but can also be very, very challenging and really know how to give gringa newbie a hard time. I am learning the art of "tough love" in the classroom, but often come home feeling pretty defeated. My challenge is to love them intentionally in spite of and because of it all.
Yesterday morning, I taught a 5thand 6th grade science class on literally two minutes notice (we are learning to be quite flexible as well!). 5th and 6th grade has a reputation as the most difficult class in the school, and as I quickly and anxiously glanced over lesson plans, I prayed that God would be my words and actions for the hour to come. Sixty minutes later, I left the classroom with a smile on my face and only three words in my mind: so much grace. Ridiculous amounts of grace. Beautiful, soul-filling, life-giving grace pouring over me and through me.
I feel this grace tangibly in Holy Hour. Holy Hour is a sacred time on Thursday nights where the entire Finca community gathers for prayer and adoration, and is possibly what I love most about this place. Little voices sing loudly and off-key. Carlitos, one of the Casa 3 boys, falls asleep against the pew. Alex and Sigri clap off-beat. The Casa 5 boys, who think they are oh-so-"suave", genuflect before the Eucharist. And despite what may have happened in school or at dinner, how much Spanish I still can't understand or how empty I may feel… I love them for who they are and who God created them to be. So much grace.
This past week, I felt God's grace as I…
- learned "punta" (the traditional Honduran dance) at one of our boys' quincenaros
- indulged in mango and chocolate "liquados" (smoothies) and a game of MASH with my volunteer community by candlelight to celebrate the life of Claire, one of the most vibrant people I have ever met, during an intense Honduran rainstorm
- got into a bit of a fight with the pila (the system we use to hand-wash our clothes) involving some bleeding of colors… Pila 1, Erin 0.
- prayed the rosary with the boys in Casa 4… totally sacred.
- learned to make tortillas, Spanish rice, and tajadas from scratch
- spent the perfect rainy afternoon in bed with Nouwen's Compassion, a steaming cup of chocolate-hazelnut tea and my beloved journal
- taught kindergarten for a few hours, which included jumping rope, listening to 5-year-old Dajani singing "Danos la paz", and ending the day with "estrellas" (star stickers) and an "abrazo" (hug) from each smiling little ball of energy
- picked up a "perrito" on the way to morning prayer (pre-6 am!) and watched 2-year-old Rosita chase "pollito" (a baby chick) around the Casa 2 kitchen
So much grace.
Thank you all so, so, so much for your encouragement, your affirmation and your prayers… they flow in me and through me, and are passed on to the kids here who need them most, even when I feel empty. Life here challenges me daily, and I am comforted by knowing that I am being lifted up higher and higher to our wonderful God. May you all know His beautiful grace this week and always!
paz y alegria,
Erin
Hermanos y hermanas,
Peace and blessings from the Finca! Cassidy and I just returned from dipping our feet in the warm Caribbean, watching one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen … and then dodged a chicken to enter the Finca office to type our emails. Pretty surreal.
Today is Friday, June 15th, and it's hard to believe that our time here is already a fourth over. We've settled into the rhythm of Finca life here pretty quickly, and although this past week has been quite difficult at times, we are learning and growing in pretty amazing ways. I am learning to jump in head-first to this crazy-beautiful adventure, which is full of laughter and pain and hugs and tears and so, so much grace.
Teaching is a daily rollercoaster, and I really struggled with feelings of inadequacy this past week. Being here is immensely humbling, and I constantly question what I'm actually doing here. The language barrier continues to be difficult (pecadores = sinners, pescadores = fish… haha…) but is improving, and I feel myself getting more comfortable speaking and understanding both in and out of the classroom. The kids at the Escuela Catolica de San Pedro (where we teach on the Farm) can be wonderful, but can also be very, very challenging and really know how to give gringa newbie a hard time. I am learning the art of "tough love" in the classroom, but often come home feeling pretty defeated. My challenge is to love them intentionally in spite of and because of it all.
Yesterday morning, I taught a 5thand 6th grade science class on literally two minutes notice (we are learning to be quite flexible as well!). 5th and 6th grade has a reputation as the most difficult class in the school, and as I quickly and anxiously glanced over lesson plans, I prayed that God would be my words and actions for the hour to come. Sixty minutes later, I left the classroom with a smile on my face and only three words in my mind: so much grace. Ridiculous amounts of grace. Beautiful, soul-filling, life-giving grace pouring over me and through me.
I feel this grace tangibly in Holy Hour. Holy Hour is a sacred time on Thursday nights where the entire Finca community gathers for prayer and adoration, and is possibly what I love most about this place. Little voices sing loudly and off-key. Carlitos, one of the Casa 3 boys, falls asleep against the pew. Alex and Sigri clap off-beat. The Casa 5 boys, who think they are oh-so-"suave", genuflect before the Eucharist. And despite what may have happened in school or at dinner, how much Spanish I still can't understand or how empty I may feel… I love them for who they are and who God created them to be. So much grace.
This past week, I felt God's grace as I…
- learned "punta" (the traditional Honduran dance) at one of our boys' quincenaros
- indulged in mango and chocolate "liquados" (smoothies) and a game of MASH with my volunteer community by candlelight to celebrate the life of Claire, one of the most vibrant people I have ever met, during an intense Honduran rainstorm
- got into a bit of a fight with the pila (the system we use to hand-wash our clothes) involving some bleeding of colors… Pila 1, Erin 0.
- prayed the rosary with the boys in Casa 4… totally sacred.
- learned to make tortillas, Spanish rice, and tajadas from scratch
- spent the perfect rainy afternoon in bed with Nouwen's Compassion, a steaming cup of chocolate-hazelnut tea and my beloved journal
- taught kindergarten for a few hours, which included jumping rope, listening to 5-year-old Dajani singing "Danos la paz", and ending the day with "estrellas" (star stickers) and an "abrazo" (hug) from each smiling little ball of energy
- picked up a "perrito" on the way to morning prayer (pre-6 am!) and watched 2-year-old Rosita chase "pollito" (a baby chick) around the Casa 2 kitchen
So much grace.
Thank you all so, so, so much for your encouragement, your affirmation and your prayers… they flow in me and through me, and are passed on to the kids here who need them most, even when I feel empty. Life here challenges me daily, and I am comforted by knowing that I am being lifted up higher and higher to our wonderful God. May you all know His beautiful grace this week and always!
paz y alegria,
Erin
Sunday, June 10, 2007
no subject
June 10, 2007
Queridos amigos,
Wow… what a week. There is so much to say that I hardly know where to begin. It's truly incredible how quickly we have been immersed in life here at the Finca. This past week has presented immense challenges and incredible moments of grace. Life here is certainly not always easy, but it is quite blessed. I tangibly feel God breathing life and hope into this place and calling it all "good".
I know my last email was pretty rushed (email is quite sketchy here) and some of you may be wondering just exactly what's happened or what we're doing here. The run-down: Cassidy and I live in a house with about fifteen other volunteers, two bathrooms, cold mountain water(sometimes), plenty of geckoes and an abundance of love. To be honest, I've gotten used to the simplicity of life pretty quickly… hand-washing clothes, cooking all meals from complete scratch, thin mattresses on wooden slabs, roosters crowing at all hours of thenight. Our bodies are holding up quite well despite countless bugbites, lots of heat, our perpetual body odor, and a few strange rashes :) Neither Cassidy nor I have gotten too terribly sick yet, which is a huge blessing.
The volunteer community here is quite incredible… compassionate, faith-filled, idealistic young people with so much love to give our kids and each other. Living, eating, and praying with them has been one of my biggest blessings. From giving tips on washing our clothes in the pila to encouragement after an excruciating day at school, they have been a constant source of support for us, and I have been immensely blessed by their companionship through late-night talks on the beach under the bright stars of the Caribbean sky, lessons in tajada-making, and folk-choir jam sessions in the kitchen. Beautiful and bizarre and totally unique, all of them. How blessed I am to be their sister.
We're beginning to get a pretty good feel for the rhyme and rhythm of life here and jump into it quickly. I'm going to be teaching at the school most of the summer, filling in for random classes (mostly 3-4 Science, 5-6 English, and 6 Spanish) in the beginning of the summer and teaching the Special Education classes towards the end of July. Cassidy will be working mostly with the colegio (older kids). I have a newfound respect for teachers after my first day with the 5th grade this past Wednesday… I never thought a group of 12-year-olds could tear me down so much. The language barrier makes things difficult, as we teach entirely in Spanish, and the kids often are not as respectful of new "profas" as they should be. My class was given some pretty severe consequences, and I do have some pretty wonderful apology notes to show off to you all when I get home :) Amazingly, they were much more well-behaved the rest of the week. Teaching will be one of my biggest challenges, especially because my class schedule won't always be consistent. While it isn't exactly an excuse, I constantly have to remind myself that almost all of our kids come from broken, abusive backgrounds and often act out without reason. Each morning, I pray that I may be intentional about loving them in truth and action.
And I do love them… all of them, so much, in spite of everything. I frequently have moments here which are simply too much for words… moments filled with grace and love. I find God's alegria in the wide, smiling eyes of Honduran kids watching their four "profas" jump into the "posa" (fresh-water swimming hole) fully clothed after hiking an hour down the mountain back from mass, in the sign of peace, in knowing that we are all part of the Body of Christ. God speaks through beautiful Honduran sunsets, through the songs and games of the littlest girls in House 1, through my newfound family here at the Finca. I cling to these sacred moments. I am learning to love, to be small, to pour out to others.
For any of you who might be able to pray for me "por nombre" this coming week… prayers for continued health, quick learning of Spanish,and above all the grace to love would be so very appreciated. Know that I love you all so much... thank you for being part of my journey.
Open. Empty. Be filled.
Hug children.
Erin
Queridos amigos,
Wow… what a week. There is so much to say that I hardly know where to begin. It's truly incredible how quickly we have been immersed in life here at the Finca. This past week has presented immense challenges and incredible moments of grace. Life here is certainly not always easy, but it is quite blessed. I tangibly feel God breathing life and hope into this place and calling it all "good".
I know my last email was pretty rushed (email is quite sketchy here) and some of you may be wondering just exactly what's happened or what we're doing here. The run-down: Cassidy and I live in a house with about fifteen other volunteers, two bathrooms, cold mountain water(sometimes), plenty of geckoes and an abundance of love. To be honest, I've gotten used to the simplicity of life pretty quickly… hand-washing clothes, cooking all meals from complete scratch, thin mattresses on wooden slabs, roosters crowing at all hours of thenight. Our bodies are holding up quite well despite countless bugbites, lots of heat, our perpetual body odor, and a few strange rashes :) Neither Cassidy nor I have gotten too terribly sick yet, which is a huge blessing.
The volunteer community here is quite incredible… compassionate, faith-filled, idealistic young people with so much love to give our kids and each other. Living, eating, and praying with them has been one of my biggest blessings. From giving tips on washing our clothes in the pila to encouragement after an excruciating day at school, they have been a constant source of support for us, and I have been immensely blessed by their companionship through late-night talks on the beach under the bright stars of the Caribbean sky, lessons in tajada-making, and folk-choir jam sessions in the kitchen. Beautiful and bizarre and totally unique, all of them. How blessed I am to be their sister.
We're beginning to get a pretty good feel for the rhyme and rhythm of life here and jump into it quickly. I'm going to be teaching at the school most of the summer, filling in for random classes (mostly 3-4 Science, 5-6 English, and 6 Spanish) in the beginning of the summer and teaching the Special Education classes towards the end of July. Cassidy will be working mostly with the colegio (older kids). I have a newfound respect for teachers after my first day with the 5th grade this past Wednesday… I never thought a group of 12-year-olds could tear me down so much. The language barrier makes things difficult, as we teach entirely in Spanish, and the kids often are not as respectful of new "profas" as they should be. My class was given some pretty severe consequences, and I do have some pretty wonderful apology notes to show off to you all when I get home :) Amazingly, they were much more well-behaved the rest of the week. Teaching will be one of my biggest challenges, especially because my class schedule won't always be consistent. While it isn't exactly an excuse, I constantly have to remind myself that almost all of our kids come from broken, abusive backgrounds and often act out without reason. Each morning, I pray that I may be intentional about loving them in truth and action.
And I do love them… all of them, so much, in spite of everything. I frequently have moments here which are simply too much for words… moments filled with grace and love. I find God's alegria in the wide, smiling eyes of Honduran kids watching their four "profas" jump into the "posa" (fresh-water swimming hole) fully clothed after hiking an hour down the mountain back from mass, in the sign of peace, in knowing that we are all part of the Body of Christ. God speaks through beautiful Honduran sunsets, through the songs and games of the littlest girls in House 1, through my newfound family here at the Finca. I cling to these sacred moments. I am learning to love, to be small, to pour out to others.
For any of you who might be able to pray for me "por nombre" this coming week… prayers for continued health, quick learning of Spanish,and above all the grace to love would be so very appreciated. Know that I love you all so much... thank you for being part of my journey.
Open. Empty. Be filled.
Hug children.
Erin
Sunday, June 3, 2007
la aventura continua...
June 3, 2007
My dear friends and family,
Buenas noches! I hope and pray that you are all well. Cassidy and I have arrived safely in Honduras and have been living quite an adventure for the past four days. The Finca truly is a labor of love, and we have been immediately welcomed into the community by everyone here. I am in awe of the beauty of this place- the lush, green mountains, the Carribbean literally 20 yards from our front door, the posas and cascadas.
I cannot even begin to describe what life here has been like, and I don't think I should really try in such limited internet time... but I am in awe of the goodness of it all. My constant wrestling with the Spanish language... the beauty of the heights of the mountains... celebrating mass with the mountain community in Buena Vista... swimming in the posas... these moments of grace remind me of my smallness, that this existence is not my own. I have already been challenged in so many ways, and I know there is so much more yet to come... yet I also feel God's grace being poured out on me, and I know that it is only through Him- seriously- that I can do anything this summer.
Thank you for your emails, your prayers and your love. My email connection is sketchy and time is limited, but I will write more and with good stories when I can :) Until then, know that I carry you all in my prayers and my heart.
la esperanza y la alegria,
Erin
My dear friends and family,
Buenas noches! I hope and pray that you are all well. Cassidy and I have arrived safely in Honduras and have been living quite an adventure for the past four days. The Finca truly is a labor of love, and we have been immediately welcomed into the community by everyone here. I am in awe of the beauty of this place- the lush, green mountains, the Carribbean literally 20 yards from our front door, the posas and cascadas.
I cannot even begin to describe what life here has been like, and I don't think I should really try in such limited internet time... but I am in awe of the goodness of it all. My constant wrestling with the Spanish language... the beauty of the heights of the mountains... celebrating mass with the mountain community in Buena Vista... swimming in the posas... these moments of grace remind me of my smallness, that this existence is not my own. I have already been challenged in so many ways, and I know there is so much more yet to come... yet I also feel God's grace being poured out on me, and I know that it is only through Him- seriously- that I can do anything this summer.
Thank you for your emails, your prayers and your love. My email connection is sketchy and time is limited, but I will write more and with good stories when I can :) Until then, know that I carry you all in my prayers and my heart.
la esperanza y la alegria,
Erin
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