'i just believe in putting kindness into the universe'

Three and a half weeks of travels, and I still don't feel like I've seen the world. I guess this hunger is only temporarily satisfied like my normal daily hungers. I love every new experience now that it's all in hindsight, but I was all too ready to return. And I surprised even myself with that.

I think often of what makes life full and meaningful. And what I just did certainly ranks at the top of that. But I fear that many will too quickly assume extravagance and heavy expense are necessary. But truthfully, fullness is, the majority of the time, found in candles and fresh flowers. Food prepared by familiar hands. Live musical sounds. Invigorating conversation by those drunk on the excitement of being together. An afghan and the written word. 

I find my life unsettling in its awkward position of the in-between. Contentment and desire. I choose always to be happy where I am, but I always want more. I always want to see something else while I want to stay home and sleep.

And now, two weeks after those travels have ended, I can't believe that so much of what I have been working toward has finally happened, and I'm left with the only thing I know how to do now, which is to ask: now what? There are too many things that I want to do in my time in this world, and I've mentioned many of them here before. But if there's anything I have to do, it is to keep writing. And through that I will hopefully find a way to all those other things that I want. I would love to one day lose myself in the titles of librarian, teacher, editor, writer, bookseller. But at the same time, I have piles of yarn, cookbooks rarely opened, journals still unfamiliar to the pen, a guitar case collecting dust, tennis balls somewhere, and I swore to myself that I would learn to french braid and drive a manual before I died. I would also like to master chess and sourdough bread. I have patterns and fabric waiting for me, and if I believe about the world the things I say I believe about the world, I better learn how to make my own living. And I mean make my own money as well as make my own food and clothes and gardens and sugar scrub. 

That was a bit of a rave. But it brings me to my next point which is a bit of encouragement. Go to your local farmer's market before you make a trip to Walmart. When your clothing rips, don't buy new ones right away. Make a friend who has a sewing machine. When you meet your copains, don't go out to eat, make a mess in somebody's kitchen. If your house is stuffy, try to plant something before you pay too much money for the Febreze plug-in. These are only a few of the many places and moments where community sprouts, and through that, I believe one can find that life is full, because everything you think you need and all the things you weren't aware you needed are hidden there.

"refuse to leave the best things in life to chance" - daddy

Today I did something I've never done before. I browsed the internets for job opportunities in teaching English as a second language. Of course, most of the ones I found were immediate, and it would have been nice if I were a year into my future because the one in Czech Republic paid an oh-so-nice salary. I'm excited. This isn't just some distant dream anymore. It's here. And I can go get it. I am seeing the facts come to reality that the world can be mine to subdue and conquer. Oh it brings me so much joy to know that I can do this. I've always known this, but it's an entirely different thing to realize it.

I can honestly say that there has always been within me a desire for other places. I know that's nothing special, every third person in the world has this hunger. And at different times I have different reasons for this desire. A lot of the time, I desire this in order to escape from the messes in which I find myself. I feel that if I can run away, the world I left behind that I messed up can move on, forget about me, and be happy. Sometimes, I'm just tired of the same scenery. Familiarity numbs me sometimes, and that scares me. And at other times, there is no specific reason other than that hunger needs to be satisfied.

I'm changing, y'all. A matter of weeks ago, I decided that I do not have to be a person I'm not happy with. Lauren Graham said, "I feel like the only thing you can do with your choices is be happy with them. Or change them." I like who I am. I always have. But being introverted does not mean that I can't go out there and get me some. I told God I wanted to change, to be made better. And over the past few weeks, I have seen opportunity after opportunity for me to be the active one and confront others as well as myself in order to get what I want or think I need.

It's time to tell about these tales

Everyone, I completed the first of my world travels in the form of a mission trip, and it was wonderful. For those of you who supported me in the form of prayer and finances and encouragement and advice, I want to do my best to let you know what you did and what you were a part of. Thanks to everyone who contributed, I wish you could know the full extent of what you did, but hopefully this little bit will help.

June 23rd, day 1: We flew out of Jackson to Houston, barely made it on the plane to Tegucigalpa where we arrived at midday sometime (I never had a watch on me). We got to the home of Luis Sorto and his family and were served the first of the most wonderful meals before we went to meet the kids and play soccer. Well, they played soccer. I watched. And the Americans suck. They were no match for ten-year-old Honduran boys.

Everything here was as beautiful as I knew it would be. Before we go any further, let me let you in on who I am. I have always believed that I was meant to spend a time in my life as a nomad of sorts. A world traveler. During these unattached years of my life, I have this constant itch to get out. When I do, usually in the form of road trips with someone I'm related to or best friends with, I always felt the sigh of relief when I returned to my home and my bed because towards the end of the journey I felt a pull back to that place. This time I did not. I love you all immensely, but for the first time, I felt no urge to come back. When I got back, I missed everybody and was glad to be back, but I felt no sigh of relief. This was my first time in a plane, and I was a tad bit nervous getting on that first flight, but it all disappeared immediately. I was meant to do this. I was meant to travel, whatever the purpose. Deep in my heart, I have this dream and desire that I've had for as long as I can remember that involves a front porch and a swing and kids everywhere, kids that belong to me. But a time for everything, right? Anyway, so all that to say that I really did know it was going to be beautiful. I knew that wherever we ended up, I was going to love it because I was meant to do this.

The drive from the airport in Tegucigalpa to Luis's home in Zambrano was crazy, as all Latin American driving is, apparently. I was glad I was so tired I slept the whole way. That was the last time that happened, however, as the bumpy terrain's influence on my tummy did not allow me to sit past the front seat of this 16ish passenger van for the remainder of the trip.

Luis's home was truly a home, and they only made us feel like we belonged. My only objection was the plumbing, and I was grateful when getting back to the States that I didn't have to put the toilet paper in the trash can anymore. And another objection was to me that I didn't know Spanish. How I regretted it. There is nothing worse than having this strong desire to express yourself in the form of communication to these children and to have a language barrier. But they knew no strangers, and they fell in love with everyone, especially Len and Chelvis.

June 24th day 2: We went to a nearby house that Luis was building for someone, and we mixed concrete to lay a floor for the house. This time I really do mean "we" because I picked up that shovel. We had to carry water in 5 gallon buckets from a well at the bottom of the hill and it was heavy. The mixing was probably the easiest, except after a while, Luis told us that two Hondurans would take care of it when it was time for mixing, because two Hondurans could to what it took 8 Americans to do in the same time. Kind of sad, yes. That afternoon, we had our first VBS with the kids in Zambrano, that I led. The format for all these was a short story, some questions, a craft or game, then handing out a snack or something for them to take home. That night I played spades, and I needed my brother.

June 25th day 3: This was the busiest day in that Saturday is church day. We did a VBS that morning, some people helped to pack food bags to give away that afternoon. 500 people typically show up every week. Each of us took over specific areas for Luis and his family, such as the adults, teenage girls, teenage boys, and kids, while they each translated for us. Then we served a meal to everyone who came to the church service which was an interesting experience to say the least. Hectic, but interesting. That night, Luis told his story. He's a good storyteller. I love storytelling. I wish everyone could hear it, but I won't even begin to try to think I could do it justice.

June 26th day 4: We went to Tegucigalpa to the Valley of Angels for shopping, and it was really a neat place. Sort of a strip mall with outdoor markets. We learned how to watch out for the tourist-y places as those were the most expensive. But I got what I came for: coffee. It was fun, I'm glad we went. That afternoon was a marriage conference, and those of us who didn't do that went with Carolina (Luis's oldest, who coordinates the children's ministry) to hand out shoes to some older girls who are regular church attendees. It was a bit emotional to say the least. And now a trip to the back-story department: The day before, as Bo preached his sermon for the adults, he noticed (because he has eyes) that out of the 150+ adults in that room, maybe 5 of them were men. He asked Luis about this, and Luis says, "Well, you see a boy and a girl hold hands, and then you see a baby, and then you never see him again." And that's how it is with Honduran men. This caused Bo to want to tell these girls a thing or two about what they really deserved from God out of life. So after we gave them their shoes, Carolina encouraged him to say what he felt he needed to for these girls. It was beautiful.

June 27th day 5: We went to the village of Proteccion which was pretty high up there in the mountainous/hilly area. Very rocky, but positively gorgeous. We got to walk around a bit before Luis led some singing and then the kids went with us while the adults got to listen to a sermon. We did another VBS of sorts in the same format as we had done. Then when it was over, most of the others proceeded to play soccer with the kids in a field of cowpies. Because their cows and such run free. That afternoon we had nothing on the schedule, so we went on a hike of sorts to see this waterfall that Luis had heard of but never been to. It wasn't so much of a hike as it was a rock climb (or rock slide, it was for me at times). We ended up at the top of this waterfall, and there were some other Americans there jumping in the water and being American who told us we'd have to go down this really dangerous cliff to see that waterfall. So of course we went down this really dangerous cliff. I had never really done anything like that in my life, but oh my goodness, it was one of the most exhilarating, invigorating, refreshing things I had ever done. And then when we got to the bottom and look up to see this (at least) 200 foot water fall, it was so worth it.
Then that night we all stayed up late with our sunburned, aching bodies laughing and telling and listening to stories in loopy, spacy, caffeinated bliss.

June 28th day 6: We went to the village of El Espino, and did basically the same thing we did in Proteccion the day before, except we did not play soccer. This landscape was not as rocky, and there was a lot more agriculture and farmland nearby. We handed out food bags as we did the day before. And for some reason, I feel like I connected with these kids a little more than I had any others. It was a good morning. That afternoon, we did more food packing and a VBS back in Zambrano. Then that night, we did another VBS/church service for the Zambranians which I only made it halfway through before my allergies kicked in like a rock and made me ready to drop dead. That didn't last long, however. One Zyrtec, 2 ibuprofen, 3 cups of caffeine, and I was feeling much better and found myself awake and thoroughly entertained for the better portion of the evening. More loopy bliss, as I like to say. But that has always been my favorite setting. Some guitar in the background with lots of laughs and stories going around the room.

June 29th day 7: Last full day. Most of us went to another house to work on more concrete floors, while I and a few others got to go to the school to do a short Bible story, a song, some coloring and passing out a snack. We only spent an hour here, my shortest time in any spot so far, and there was a pull that I had not had before. For some reason, being in this place, this school, it affected me differently. My heart has always been in education and simply eliminating ignorance, so maybe that has something to do with it. I don't know. But I had a harder time leaving the school. "Knowledge is power" may be a strong statement, but if only everyone knew how many problems could be eliminated by simply educating people. I don't know. Perhaps it will be a while before I understand fully that feeling I had.
That afternoon, we walked around Zambrano for a bit before we played with the kids one last time. Saying goodbye wasn't easy. But I hope it's not for good. I doubt it.

June 30th day 8: As I said before, I did not want to leave. We stopped at the grocery store before the airport so everyone could stock up on that heavenly coffee and other things. Then of course the battery dies in our big van, so we all pile up in the mini-van to go the the airport. Some were not so lucky to be squashed as we were:

But we made it to our plane, we made it home. So thanks. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will be talking and posting about this for a while to come, so I hope you'll journey back to my messages from the wayside!