Bringing it back…

Culture re-entry is never something I eagerly anticipate.  It’s a struggle on many levels: mental, physical, emotional and spiritual.  This entire past week, while in Honduras, I spent a lot of time processing with people, which is not common for me.  Usually I internally process and then may share the results.  But this was very raw processing, being unexpectedly hit with buried emotion, frustration, joy, and God-appointed moments.  Many times there was no filter, but there was a community to support me.  And now I’m coming back and trying to fit all of this into my head, heart and life.  I know it’s impossible, but I pray that God would use this past week to continue to shape me into who He wants me to be.  So this will likely ramble a bit, because I’m putting my thoughts into some semblance of order.  It’s not neatly packaged, though not as raw as it might be, as I’ve had a day of travel to process already. 

This past week was a daily, building reminder about what I love and miss about Honduras and the Honduran culture.  It started with the land itself.  Driving from San Pedro Sula to Comayagua was a winding road of hills and mountains, breathtaking valleys and one large lake.  It was a far cry from the flat urban sprawl of northern Illinois.  As we were driving, I found myself answering questions from a few members of our group who had never been there, and as I talked it brought back so many precious memories of people and places I miss. 

Sunday started with a worship time in Comayagua.  I was grateful to realize I still had enough Spanish where I could follow the vast majority without translation.  Worshiping God breaks down cultural and language barriers.  Standing in that church together, we were embraced and loved by people who had never seen us before, and this side of heaven may never see us again, but loved us because we are family, we are all adopted sons and daughters of God the Father.  In that, we have unity.  For me, that continued later, as I met up with Jennifer, a friend from when I lived here.  I hadn’t seen her in 3 years, but time fell away very quickly.  Our conversation was encouraging and I may find myself coming back to Honduras more frequently or for longer periods of time as a result, but right now all of that is still in the prayer stage.

This week was different from my previous experiences.  There was a lot more continuity with Hondurans; we saw some of the same people from one day to another.  We did things (like laying adobe bricks) with them which meant we had the opportunity for extended conversations.  My Spanish was stretched and I was pretty comfortable with it by the end of the week.  But mostly I saw again and again how God cares for individuals, including myself.  I don’t think, as a group, we’ve ever had as many “God moments” as we had this past week.  It was evident that God was there and working from day 1.  I won’t try to recount the stories here…if you want to know, just ask me, I’ll be happy to talk about it.

At this stage, I would say I’m a veteran at short-term Honduras trips.  I think this was short term trip #8, not counting the year I lived there and the times I’ve spent just visiting…and those are just the trips I’ve taken to Honduras.  Somewhere along the line, I’ve started to feel like one of the leaders of the trip rather than a participant…not that I’m up front giving direction, because I’m not, nor do I want to be.  But I’m usually waiting until last to volunteer for something because I’ve done it before and I’m willing to do it all again…provided no one else is taking the opportunity.  I’m looking for people who seem to need to talk and process what they’re going through.  I ask people how they’re doing and what they’re thinking, both because I very much want to know, but also because I know that people need to speak it out loud.  I give advice, I answer questions, I’m flexible…I’ve found it’s what is often needed.  I remember needing that my first trip, both because I was overwhelmed and because I was processing my grandmother’s recent death (I missed her funeral because I was in Honduras.)  I had great people who came along side me that year.  They were there for a hug, to talk, whatever. 

Unexpectedly this year, I needed that again.  And there were people with me who stepped in and helped me process, or just offered me a hug.  Many of them were people I didn’t know (or didn’t know well) before this trip.  But I was reminded again that we are created to be in community with people.  Much as our culture values independence, possibly above all else, you can do so much more, and enjoy so much more, when you work together in community.  You bear one another’s burdens, support, encourage, pray for, laugh with, sing with, and just do life with other people.    I think I both laughed and cried more on this trip than has happened for a long time.  And I had people coming along side me, helping me on the way.  I’m incredibly thankful for the experience and my new friends…and I’m praying that God would provide me with that same sense of community here.

I've stopped writing...

I created this blog really for my journey to and my time in Honduras.  After returning, I stopped writing in it, and actually in many ways I stopped writing at all.  I still journal - private personal thoughts and prayers that are just between me and God - but in many ways it seems to me like if I'm not out there doing something, no one would care what I'm thinking about.  I mean who really wants to know about the daily life of a suburban teacher.  And how can I have a "purpose" when every day seems like every other day.

But today I was thinking about it, and I realized that a lot has happened to me and a lot of changes have taken place since I came back from Honduras.  I may not be in a "foreign" country (which, when I visit, still seems like home), but it is still affecting me.

It's hard for me to believe it's been almost 3 years since I came back.  At times it seems a lifetime ago, other times it really does seem like it was just last week.  I have been back to visit since then.  I haven't yet seen everyone, but I have seen most of my students.  I know that my friends and family like to hear about those trips, but fewer of them ask about how I've changed (and in their defense, it would be difficult to answer that question on the fly).  I still think in Spanish occasionally, I still read in Spanish some, but I know I'm losing a lot of the language I had.  Hopefully it would come back quickly.

When I first came back, that first year, I pretty much was just waiting for God to send me again.  I didn't know whether it would be to Honduras or somewhere else, but I just wanted to go.  I wanted the clearer sense of purpose that came with being surrounded by your mission.  We all have a mission/purpose.  When you are somewhere other than your "home" that mission is often clearer.  You go on vacation to relax - that is your mission.  You visit friends to spend time with them - that is your mission.  I went overseas to teach - that was my mission.  When you're home, it's more difficult to find that purpose.  Some days it just seems to be to make enough money to survive.  Other days it's to get the house cleaned.   But it seems like I'm constantly being pulled in so many directions with no underlying clear goal.

The first year was probably the biggest physical and obvious transitions.  I needed to move back into my house, learn the new programs at school, reacquaint myself with how things were run there.  There was a new assessment system, a new evaluation system, new website, new teachers, new classes, a lot of new things.  Going shopping on my own in huge stores, creating my own schedules and having the flexibility of my own transportation were all somewhat overwhelming at first.  But you fall back into the pattern, re-learn how to do things and stop mentioning it to other people.  Within six months, most other people forgot I ever was gone, and a few of them told me that too.  But I very much didn't forget, because the internal transitions still go on.

I mentioned that during the first year, internally, I expected God to send me back, or send me somewhere.  When I didn't feel that, there was a fair amount of depression.  It seemed like everyone else had moved on and forgotten about it and about me, at times it even seemed like God had.  There was a lot of internal doubt about my decisions, God's decisions and whether or not God had a plan for my life.  Now, looking back, I can see both God's presence and His faithfulness through that time, but in the middle of it, both of those were hard to see.  Finishing off my first year of school in the States did hold a sense of accomplishment.  I went back to Honduras for a few weeks over the summer, and saw some people again.  Leaving that time seemed far more difficult than it had been the first time, because I knew what I was coming back to, and I still didn't know what my purpose was.  Shortly after returning, with school starting up again, I was told that if I did not get a Masters' degree within the next few years, my salary would be frozen.

This presented a few problems.  I didn't have extra money sitting around to pay for a Masters program.  I didn't have time to attend classes, and I didn't want a Masters just for the sake of getting a Masters.  The whole system of "you pay for a piece of paper (degree) which will then make us pay you more money (salary)" seems a little twisted and political.  So I half-heartedly looked around for programs, and talked to people who were getting a Masters or had gotten one recently.  I did find one that was fairly reasonably priced and all online.  I had done online classes before, I knew I could be disciplined enough to monitor my own progress.  I had to make the decision between what type I wanted to get, and all I knew was that I did not want to go into administration, so I decided to get a degree in curriculum and instruction.

Working towards my Masters has taken up a lot of the last 16 months.  I have two classes left to go, I'm finally almost there.  What I have seen through this is a continuation of God's faithfulness in providing for me in every way.  I have been able to pay for my classes as I've gone along.  My 10-year-old car has been very well behaved and not needed much in the way of maintenance.  My medical insurance has paid more than I thought they would of various bills that have come up.  I have gotten tutoring jobs when I needed extra money.  God has provided in many ways, both small and large, to allow me to work towards this goal.  And He provided a way for me to go back down to Honduras last summer as well.  I wasn't expecting that I would be able to go, financially or time-wise (as I was taking classes throughout the summer).  Looking back, I still don't fully understand how it came together, but it did.

God has also, in the last year or so, shown me other reasons that I'm here, in the States, in this place, at this time.  I don't have time to go into all of that now, because I've already spent more time than I anticipated writing, but I'll have to come back to that later...