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.
