Straight on Through

Things in my head and now …. not

a Honduras Perspective

I love conversing back and forth with my friend Adrienne Cahoon.  She and her husband Dick own Whitely Creek Bed and Breakfast out by the Brainerd Airport.  Dick and Adrienne run a whitely-creek1great business where they go above and beyond with treating their guests to an incredible experience.  They have a fantastic atmosphere, incredible home cooked breakfasts and the guests return again and again.

Adrienne recently sent me an email she had received from a guest she had at the Bed and Breakfast who had recently returned from Honduras.  Adrienne had Annie’s permission for me to share this with all of you and I am glad to do it.

I have to admit that I am a bit behind in my correspondence.  I did return home safe and sound this past Saturday evening (late!) …yikes, it has already been a week? …trust me, I was barely cognizant of my surroundings.
Additionally, my heart has been as weary as my body and I have this heaviness that won’t escape me.  I miss my new friends I left behind.  My thoughts seem to fixate on the whereabouts of my amigas/amigos.  I can’t help but wonder if the spigots are now installed in the village (we were so close!!!!) …I can’t help but wonder what this now means?  How life will change in the village….
My heart is also hurting as I recall the absence of the children’s laughter on the morning we said our good-byes…a village once vibrant with giggles and laughter, was eerily subdued.  Even the men and women of the village did their best to stifle their tears, but I could hear the sadness spread as hugs were passed out and “ya me despido” (I’ve got to say good bye) were whispered.
Please let me take this moment to thank you all.  I am so grateful for your prayers and words of encouragement.
I am still processing, but do have notes I’m willing to share with anyone who is interested…just email me and let me know what you have questions about.
I’ll close with this… just a few thoughts/words I jotted down the other day:
Is God enough for me?
The most favorite part of my day, must be awarded to the breakfast hour.  I love the quiet, still morning air that is only interrupted by the melodic chirping of the robin’s visiting our yard.
Today, I found myself fumbling to make a simple slice of toast.  I needed to provide some nourishment for these weak and weary bones. In doing so, I swore I felt Martina’s warm, gentle hands over mine, making sure I spread to each edge of the slice, the hot apple sauce… her touch was direct, thoughtful, …loving…just as I remembered.
As I slowly navigated to the dining room table, I found a chair and nestled into position.  What usually was a comfortable place for me to ponder the day, returned me to an oddly familiar sit…the wobbly wooden chair barely large enough to hold my weight.  I could smell the dirt from the floor which I slept; dust floating about and under my nose (I can’t breathe!)
…the dusky wooden planked table could be felt under my fingertips.  Lupe’s home.  My mind returned to revisit the breakfast break…reflection, giggles, conversation, FOOD!  “…oh, what will today bring?”
Las Chilcas remains on my skin. I am unable to shake from my thoughts how simple life can be lived.
Though the living conditions are harsh and it’s residence clearly surrounded by nothing, I sit here mentally inventorying the villager’s possessions: an undeniable warmth marked every embrace, seemingly endless joy had no alternative but to escape from their voice, unconditional love and compassion towards each other…and guests.  Impressive.  Peace and contentment was evident with every step taken, with each conversation shared.
Relentlessly grateful to God and generous in their praises and outreach towards one another. I can’t remember a time feeling more humbled or privileged….
(sigh) …sitting here in the comfort of my own home, I am left to ponder the thought: Is God enough for me?

I read Annies thoughts and she takes me back to Honduras… the sights the smells, the feelings of new friendships.  The relationships we build there are bound tightly to me.  Jorge, Marta, Juan Carlos, Jeremy, Antonio, Rita, Maricela, Maribel, Eva, Bryon… the list goes on and on – they are like family.  I can pull them back into my memory by a site or a sound and I miss them when I am away.
Thank you Annie for sharing your thoughts.dsc094622

April 8, 2009 - Posted by | Devotion in motion

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