Sometimes I Wish I Had a Clock In - Clock Out Life

Missionary life is hardly predictable. Sometimes I wish I had a time clock that would only let me work a certain number of reasonable hours. I know that's not what I signed up for, but wow, can the hours be long! Yesterday was a very busy day to say the least. My coffee roaster caught on fire, so the whole thing had to be loaded by eight men into the back of a pick-up truck to be taken to San Pedro Sula. I also needed to stop by one of our Honduran board member's office to ask for his help. He's a cancer surgeon and always makes himself available anytime we have a patient in need. There is an older woman in Pinalejo who has been diagnosed with liver cancer, but she needs a biopsy to give the oncologists a better idea fo what they are dealing with so they will know how best to proceed. Also, the clinic was nearly out of medications, so it just seemed as though to me the whole day was meant to be spent in San Pedro Sula, shopping for the clinic and working on my very long "to do" list. (That's what I get for spending more than four months away from Honduras...a long honey-do list) I left the house at 7:00 AM and didn't return home until 9:30 PM. Let me tell you, that makes for a long day!

This morning, when I opened my tired eyes, my daughter was sitting on my bed looking at me. She smiled at me and then extended her arms hoping for a bear hug. I told her I was sorry I had missed saying goodnight last night. She then said the one thing I always dread hearing, "mommy, do you have to go to work today?". What usually follows is a long string of WHY questions such as: why do you have to go to work, why can't you stay home with me and play and why can't I go with you. I go through the usual list of reasons which usually puts the issue to rest at least for a few days. However, as I was walking out the door this morning my daughter gave me a gift. Intead of throwing a fit or begging me not to go to work, she came running yelling, "mi pico, mi pico" Which means, "my kiss, my kiss". Then, in her most mature voice she said, "bye mommy, go to work and help the sick people. I'll stay here and play". Then she said, "we'll go swimming when you get home...you and me and Juan right?". All the while she was shaking her finger at me. "Deal", I thought.


So, as I finish this post, my daughter and her friends are splashing in the pool. I promised I would be right out and I plan to be true to my word as long as there are no emergencies that find their way to my door. More than anything in this world, I want to raise compassionate children and yet I also pray that my children never feel slighted because of my calling. It's a fine line to walk, yet someone once said something that I think may very well be the key, "you can make a lot of mistakes with kids, but as long as they know they are loved things usually turn out alright...love covers a lot of sins". So, even though my job doesn't have a time clock, regular hours or even the feel of a normal job, I think my kids do know they are loved. Even if loving them means leaving a few emails for later to take a dip in the kiddie pool. How blessed am I to be able to love those around me, not just my kids but the people of Honduras whom I serve. And to receive their love in return, truly my cup overflows. If you ask me, you want to know how to get to know Christ...love others.

Blessings, Lisa

Easter Morning

It's Easter morning here in Honduras. My kids are still sleeping so I am enjoying the rare opportunity to just "be still and know that God IS".

It is good to be back in Honduras again. Since my return, there have been so many things to do I've hardly had a moment to even think about how glad I am to finally be home. How odd it feels to have two completely different places to call home. I guess I've come to understand that home is not so much a physical place as it is a feeling of belonging.

Because this week is Holy Week, I've mostly been here at home with my children. How wonderful to enjoy a little down time after dealing with such a hectic schedule these last five months. Oh the luxury of a little hammock time! Many neighbors have taken the opportunity to come by to say hello. Their words of welcome have warmed my heart and further deepened my own feeling of belonging in this community. How fortunate I am they have allowed me into their midst not just as a visitor, but a member of their community.

Since our return, the neighbor children have spent quite a lot of time in the evenings playing with Juan and Jessica in our yard. The precarious economic situation here in Honduras is more than evident to me as I secretly observe our neighbor kids' nutritional status. Many of the children are unusually thin and their color has turned from a rosy brown to sallow. Some of the children closest to my family seem to conveniently show up during meal time. I know it is because they may not have enough food in their own homes.

Our Easter party this afternoon will be slightly different perhaps from those I celebrated as a child. My children and I have invited the neighborhood children for an afternoon of egg coloring. I doubt we will hide the eggs, but will most likely instead send them home for the children to eat. Eggs are a golden source of protein and highly prized. It's good that we can share some of our culture and traditions, while at the same time feed some hungry children. It should be a fun time for everyone this afternoon.

Well, Juan and Jessica are awake now. They have already spied the plastic eggs filled with candy and playdough. What a joy it is for me to be a mom. Their delight is mine. As they discover the true meaning of Easter beyond the eggs, candy and hoopla, it's as though I too am discovering it all for the very first time. My heart overflows with gratitude for a God whose supreme sacrifice of love paved the way for a place for me at His table.

Blessings and Peace,

Lisa