planting seeds

I just now had a conversation with a Guatemalan woman here, who is visiting her uncle and aunt at CB for the day, about the importance of love in the lives of very young children -- that even though this love seems like such a menial and tiresome task, it is so so utterly important for these children to experience it. She reminded me that the Lord is always working, that He blesses the work of those who serve Him, and that loving children is like planting a seed in their lives which they will carry with them all their days into eternity. So, while I may become weary and impatient on a regular basis, I can rest in the knowledge that the Lord is using my work here in ways not visible to me. And, at the end of the day, I really could not ask for more than that Lord uses me.

Please continue to pray that I would experience the Lord's joy in everyday tasks, and for the grace to serve in humility and use my words to love on my house parents and fellow workers. I cannot think of a more important thing that we can do, as humans and as Christians, than to pray, pray, pray.

I'll close here with one of my favorite poems, which I am now reading with a fresh perspective that the Lord sleeps "as a tiny seed" in what is small:


I find you, Lord, in all Things and in all
my fellow creatures, pulsing with your life;
as a tiny seed you sleep in what is small
and in the vast you vastly yield yourself.
The wondrous game that power plays with Things
is to move in such submission through the world:
groping in roots and growing thick in trunks
and in treetops like a rising from the dead.
-Rainer Maria Rilke

a day apart

I think Friday's Antigua and volcano adventures can best be described in pictures, so here are just a few highlights:

[salsa dancing]

 
 [a view of volcan agua]

    [Mayan hot chocolate]

    [the three of us from Wheaton on the top of volcan pacaya]

[some of the team venturing around the top]

a day to be remembered

It's officially been two weeks since we arrived here at Casa Bernabe, and I think it's safe to say that things are finally feeling settled. Last weekend, I hit a rather low point and was seriously doubting my decision to work in the baby house; I felt overwhelmed by the long hours, frustrated that I seemed so isolated from teammates who I had only just met (as well as from the other 100+ kids who live here who I'd really love to spend time with), and overall just discontent & not looking forward to 2 months of drudgery. But, quite surprisingly, after giving it a few more days (and lots and lots of prayer), things have completely changed. Long story short, God has blessed me with a real love for these children, and with a joy that I know does not simply come out of my circumstances... Praying for continued joy this summer, and that I could carry that home with me at the end!

That being said, today was by far the most joyful and wonderful day yet. I have two mornings "off" each week which means I don't go down to the baby house until 1:15, so today in the morning I gardened (see picture below) and spent some time praying with a teammate. Then in the afternoon (after all the diaper-changing and putting-on-of-shoes and getting-in-high-chairs) we had cake to celebrate the birthday of one of the babies, which while it was fun also was a reminder of the reality of living in an orphanage & of the reality that all these children have to face, because her birthday in fact is not until September but she leaves the orphanage this weekend and we will likely never see her again... It amazes me how "in-your-face" all the issues that these children's face can be, while at the same time you can so easily forget they are even orphans. I pray that God would give me freedom from surface judgments this summer as I come to understand the deeper hurts of these kids.

Anyways, back to the day: this afternoon, our daily walk with the kids turned into quite an adventure. There's a bridge near the garden which at the moment has no wooden boards on it, which means all that's there are thin metal beams, over which I would never even think of crossing by myself, let alone with babies. However, my house mom, not coming from the same American "keep-your-child-in-a-bubble" mentality that I come from, didn't seem to have a problem with the idea of passing the children assembly line style across the bridge after my teammate jokingly suggested that we do it. It was both a frightening and hilarious experience, and one which I hope I won't face again in my life! After that, we just sat on a field and played, laughed, chatted in Spanish and took pictures as the Guatemalan winter fog set in until it was time for dinner... So thankful for the way God is working in the friendships with the other baby house staff, and for the joy He has given me in what at first seemed to be mundane and a source of isolation. I pray I do not lose that this summer

Here are some pictures from the day:

We're off to Antigua again tomorrow, for a day full of salsa dancing, coffee drinking, and volcano hiking! Updates on that at another time.

Bendiciones.

the irony of humility

    a view from the main building at casa bernabe

this week, things at casa bernabe went from an extremely slow pace and open schedule to a sudden, though not wholly unexpected, 12 hour work day. On Monday night of this week, after the rest of our team arrived, we finally picked our homes for the summer (there are 8 homes here in total, divided by age and gender).

My only thoughts prior to coming here about where I wanted to be placed was that I did not work with babies. Selfishly in the back of my mind I had been thinking, "I'm not going all the way to Guatemala for a whole summer just to hold babies." However, the irony of that thought is that I have also been praying daily for several months that God would teach me humility, and show me how to serve without seeking praise or thanks in the act. So, long story short I certainly did not come to Guatemala just to hold babies. I came to serve in humility, without trying to draw attention to the supposedly good and sacrificial things I do.

And truthfully, I cannot think of these children so lightly. They have suffered malnourishment, abuse, neglect, and I cannot justify such a selfish attitude in myself when I could be caring for a baby who has spent the first 14 months of his life strapped to a bed, leaving him paralyzed, blind, and deaf. And what a joy it is to see him defy the doctor's diagnosis of his condition as his arms and legs begin to move and I see his eyes begin to follow me around the room. It may not be a glamorous job, or one that you would want to tell home about, but that is not what this is about.  And while it has been a hard adjustment, I am sure that it is where God wants me and I can find peace in that.

A few more pictures in closing from a trip that a few of us took on Wednesday to Antigua to visit with a couple who runs a small out-of-home ministry to the local kids and young adults. I'm really hoping we get to go back there again soon!

casa bernabe

Well, we are finally here and all settled in. The rest of our team of "summer interns" don't arrive until Monday, so we'll have a bit of a slower weekend, running errands, meeting people, and the like. International travel felt like a breeze (minus the 3 am wake up call). Casa Bernabe from what we have seen thus far is incredibly beautiful. I am so excited to be serving here and am already amazed by the dedication, faith, and love of the missionaries and staff here.

Casa Bernabe is organized into several smaller "casas" divided by age and gender, and from what I understand, we will all be assigned to one of these houses for the summer, essentially acting as a care taker alongside the house parents that are already here. All that will be figured out by early next week, so I will let you know more then!

Throughout our orientation in the States and our time here in Guatemala thus far, I have had a consistent sense that this is truly where the Lord wants me to be -- so many doors seem to be opening and I am learning so much... I am finally building a vocabulary for so many of the things which I already am passionate about, and there are many many people surrounding me for whom I have so so much respect and from whose wisdom I have already benefitted. I feel I could not be more blessed.

Pray that I would continue to sense and be attentive to God's hand in this, and that I would be open to taking on whatever position and/or tasks are given me this summer, knowing that the Lord has put me here for a reason and that these current circumstances, as Amy Carmichael wrote even amidst her own suffering that "however things may appear to be... these are the best that He could choose for me."

Vaya con Dios.

orientation to departure

Here's a photo of our team plus the team going to South Africa, all departing within the next several hours! Really looking forward to everything that is coming, and so grateful for all the wisdom shared the past few days here in South Carolina. Bendiciones!

bless them in silence

Tomorrow begins a new adventure--2 months in Guatemala working at Casa Bernabe (www.foce.org). It's a little scary how few expectations I have. I barely feel that I am anticipating anything, but I pray that God would use this time to shape me and challenge me in ways that only He knows how. 

Hopefully I'll be fairly consistent in keeping you all updated here with how the summer is going! Blessings to you all.

An African Elegy

[by Ben Okri]

We are the miracles that God made

To taste the bitter fruit of Time.

We are precious.

And one day our suffering

Will turn into the wonders of the earth.

There are things that burn me now

Which turn golden when I am happy.

Do you see the mystery of our pain?

That we bear the poverty

And are able to sing and dream sweet things.

And that we never curse the air when it is warm

Or the fruit when it tastes so good

Or the lights that bounce gently on the waters?

We bless the things even in our pain.

We bless them in silence.

That is why our music is so sweet.

It makes the air remember.

There are secret miracles at work

That only Time will bring forth.

I too have heard the dead singing.

And they tell me that

This life is good

They tell me to live it gently

With fire, and always with hope.

There is wonder here

And there is surprise

In everything the unseen moves.

The ocean is full of songs.

The sky is not an enemy.

Destiny is our friend.

I hope that I keep this poem close to my heart this summer, and pray it is an encouragement to you all as well, that though "we bear the poverty" we can still "sing and dream sweet things."

-Heather