Adrenaline rush. My heart is racing. I barely think for a minute, eying the spot I want to land. I jump. 37 ft in the air. I'm falling. Now, 4 ft from the water, my body isn't in the right position. No time. SMACK. I hit the water. Hard. My chest and neck are throbbing as I plunge into the depths. I can't catch my breath. I think to myself, "If I don't reach the surface now, I'm going to stop breathing."
I force myself up, breaking through into the air. I gasp. A strong arm pulls me to the rocks. I breath. Again. Breath. I'm alive.
Common sense says "That's enough for one day." Heart says "That can't be your memory of this amazing place." I look over at the powerful downpour of waterfall coming over the cliff to my right. I obey heart.
Two jumps later, I'm glad I listened.
A lot can happen in a month...I've gone to the Mayan Ruins in Copan, went through a waterfall, jumped off a cliff, taken a mud bath, and played spoons in a pool and lost the spoons.
I've gazed at the milky way and seen my good old friend Orion.
I've played futbol and scored a goal, ridden in a truck that was falling apart, and massaged the worn hands of some of God's precious children.
I've mixed cement, been sore for days, and did it again.
I've finished months of Spanish classes, been asked if I'm Honduran, and had plenty of language misunderstandings.
I've petted puppies, chased kittens, and killed cockroaches.
I've sorted bags and bags of clothes, organized disarrayed medicine cabinets, and watched a doctor treat patients and out prescriptions while smoking a cigar. (No I didn't meet Doctor House.)
I've learned hundreds of names, made friends with the mean kid, and had a little boy fall asleep in my arms.
I've been sick and shaking, tired and homesick, and just ready for a break...
I've celebrated good news and mourned tragic, been stressed and relaxed.
I've learned about faith from George Müller and those "old faithfuls" from Hebrews 11.
And I've been chased and wanted by a Jealous God and have been learned what it is t love God as the Bride of Christ.
Honduras is by no means an easy place to live. It tries my patience at times, and like all cultures it comes with a lot of "basura"(trash), both literally and figuratively. But my love for this place, these people, and this culture is blossoming. This week in particular has just been amazing for opening my eyes to that as we worked with a VBS in Colonia Linda Miller, helping a lot with translating and just loving on those kids.
Continue to keep me in your prayers. Next week we start our full out ministry rotations when we'll be in each ministry for 3 weeks at a time. The first ministry I'll be at is called Casita Kennedy. It's actually a government-run program, and for those of you who know about the current state of the Honduran government, that's not necessarily a great thing. It's a place with a LOT of need. It'll be VERY draining. Please pray for strength for me and Emily, who is working with me there, as we give of ourselves to these children.
Amor siempre en Cristo,
Evi
