New Super Mario Brothers.

I bought myself a Christmas present. :) Yay, for self-gifting!

Victor and Chici were just in the U.S. to do some promoting and Christmas shopping. I asked them to buy me a Wii game. My brother gave me his Wii last time I was home (thanks Theo!) and I have been wanting new games but they are so expensive. Especially here! They are about 30% more expensive.

So today I received my early Christmas present. Chici said I could pull it out this afternoon and play with the kids for an hour. All of a sudden it was over an hour and a half later! It was so much fun to play with them. But they were WIRED! They were so excited to play. More excited to play with me than I was to play with them. We were playing on teams of 4 and they kept killing me. Or stealing my prizes. So I am excited to play it again by myself. Somehow they have talked me into lending it to them this weekend. Sigh. Is this what being an aunt is about? You give in when you don't particularly want to? How do you say no when they are so cute??!!??

On a sad note, it seems that while we were playing, someone was stealing a bunch of money off my credit card. Over $1300. Stinker. So if you think to pray for me (and my credit card) I would appreciate it. It is just so much more difficult to take care of things from down here.

Well, happy 2 weeks until Christmas Eve! Can you believe Christmas is almost here? This year seems to have flown for me. Take care all!

Missionaries.

I don't know what you think when you hear the word "missionary". I think of the old stereotype of dowdy skirts, thick glasses, and all their "stuff" together. In other words they are very good people who love God and don't care much for the things of this world.

For this reason I hesitated for a long time to call myself a missionary. When I felt it was the right time to come down (I have felt this calling on my life for a long time) I knew I loved God. I knew I didn't wear skirts. I wore contacts. And most importantly, I didn't have my stuff together. So was I a missionary? What was my purpose in coming down here? To follow God's call on my life. I thought (and it turned out to be true) that I would also have a lot of fun.

I have met many missionaries since arriving. And let me tell you, it is true that they love God but they don't all have their stuff together. Does anyone really? I think we are continually striving to get to that point. The point of such complete oneness with God that all else just falls into place. Perfection. I believe this is something we will strive for our whole life and not actually see achieved here on earth. That can be a little depressing, but it is a fact. But that doesn't mean that we strive in vain. We learn new things every day. Things about ourselves. Things about God. Things about others. It is an interesting journey!

Lately I have not been striving. I haven't been reading my Bible or praying regularly. There are a few reasons for this but mostly it is due to laziness and no self-control when it comes to the TV (I am house-sitting for a friend who has cable). And I haven't been feeling good about that and I find I am not hearing God's voice at all. How can I hear him above the noise of my TV?

Yesterday I went to a 2 day conference for missionaries. There were about 25 of us and I knew about 5 of them. The average age (not including my own age and the one other girl who was 20) was definitely late 50's to 60's. This happens a lot. I have a couple of very close friends who are my age but the majority are older. This doesn't bother me like I thought it would. It is nice to have people who I respect and have much more knowledge than I and are freely willing to share with me. They are not perfect by any means. But they have gone through some of the stuff I am going through or have gone through in the past. I enjoy it to be honest. I have so much to learn from them.

The team that was here was from Gateway Church in Texas. There were 3 men who were leaders of something called Freedom Ministries. It was amazing. Bob Hamp's definition of freedom is "the ability to live life as the person you are created and redeemed to be." I learned so much. I don't think I can share much right now as there is a lot to process and work through. But it was good.

I don't have to be perfect or even pretend to be perfect to be a missionary. Oswald Chambers said "The goal of a missionary is to do God's will, not to be useful or to win the lost. A missionary is useful and does win the lost but that is not his goal. His goal is to do the will of his Lord." I love that. Kind of takes the pressure off! :) Hard to do, but it is ever so good when you do.

So in order to do His will, I need to be able to hear His voice. And in order to do that I need to pray and listen regularly, and study the word of God. We need times of quiet in order to hear. And we need practice in listening.

So for those of you who are getting geared up and busy with this Christmas season, I encourage you to take your time. Spend time with God. The best thing you could ever do for yourself.

This was a bit random and disjointed but I just wanted to put a few of my thoughts out there.

Goodnight!

Good day.

One really good thing happened today.

I am a hugger. I love to cuddle kids and give them hugs and kisses and tell them I love them.

I work in a predominantly male, children's home. This is a conflict at times.

When I first started there I took a bit of time but it wasn't long before I wanted to hug and kiss them all the time because they were so darn cute! And they do need it. The female staff member is always with the girls so the boys weren't exposed to much lovey dovey affection.

At first they fought it. Outwardly anyway. Then they gradually began to accept it. They figured I wasn't going to quit. And to be honest: they really do love it and need it. They often taunt me by saying I haven't given them a hug yet that day. They know I am immediately coming after them then! Lately there have been 2 of the medium boys who have been really needy. Seeking me out and accepting my attention and affection for as long as I am willing to give it. That has got to be the best part of my job.

But there has been one boy in particular who has really been resisting it. So much so that I got to the point where I thought he might be serious and not just pretending he didn't want it. He seemed to sense when I was about to attack (I sometimes have to just grab them and kiss them really fast. It usually ends up on their neck or on hands that are protecting their face) and he would run away. Today I was working on the computer after lunch and the kids were watching some stuff on the computer next to me. Well, I was trying to work. I kept hearing "Tia Naomi, look" and then I would have to see the next cool thing that came up. To be honest, the video was pretty neat. It was about nature and the amazing way that God created everything. Anyway, when I got distracted I would start to lean on the back of this boys chair. Then I leaned my chin on his head. Or I just put my hand on the back of his neck (my hands were really cold and I wanted to warm them up. I actually thought it would bug him too but it didn't!). Then he was eventually leaning against me and I kept my arm around him in a hug. This went on for a long time. In between my "working".

I am just happy that he was accepting of it. And seemed to want it again. Appropriate physical affection is such an important part of our development, even more so for these kids who have been rejected and abused. I am just glad I get to be the person that gives out that affection. :)

So it made me happy. I will continue on in my quest to give the most hugs and kisses ever.

And tomorrow the girls are coming to my house for the evening!! That will be exciting. I love having them over. Pictures to come!

P.S. I know this post could sound a little weird if you don't know me. I am very aware that they are boys and that a lot of them have an unfortunate history with sexual abuse. I am careful. There are always other people around and everyone is subject to the same amount of love. They are never required to hug or kiss me but I love it when they do! I actually had to teach a couple of them how to kiss! They would just put their lips on my cheek. I had to show them that you have to make the sound! Too funny.

Puff, the Magic Dragon.

This song is playing on my iPod so I thought I would make it my blog title. Some people think that this song is about drugs. Not me. Just a cute lil green dragon that lost his little boy to adulthood. Who wants to be an adult anyway??? Not me!

I am now finishing my first 6 months at Rehoboth Children's Home. When I started I didn't really know what was in store for me. To be honest, I thought it would be like a fun summer camp all the time. It seemed that way at first. I would play with the kids and have fun and thought I was very blessed to be doing this work.

I still feel (and AM) very blessed but things have been very different these past 6 months. At first I was just hanging out with the kids. I was helping with chores and doing a few things like starting the blog for the home and making a facebook page. Just little fluff things. I wasn't directly responsible for anyone or anything and I was just fine with that!

After a couple of months I was asked to take over as the second house parent to cover for days off. Uh oh! Responsibility! I was resistant, but only in my mind. I had committed myself to be under Chici and Victor for 2 years to learn all about running a home. To me, that didn't include being a house parent. Embarrassing to admit, but true. I thought that I would stick it out for a month or so and then they would bring in someone else to take over.

That didn't happen and I can now truly say that I am happy I did it. That I am still doing it. I had a really rough time for several weeks. The kids were testing me. I went from a fun visitor to being an authority figure and really, who likes authority?!? They tested me and tried me and had me running out back to cry several times. I went home mad at everyone often. I had no idea it would be that difficult for me. And I was going home at night and had my weekends off!

I have experience with kids. I baby-sat them. I taught hundreds how to swim. I worked with them in the hospital. I had best friends with kids (that I spent a LOT of time with). So I thought I could handle them. And I couldn't. All my previous experience was with a small, "controlled" group of kids. This was 14 boys all at once and me trying to control a situation in a language I don't have a complete grasp of. Especially when I am angry or trying to get kids to obey me!

After a couple of months (maybe less, I don't remember) I went to Chici and asked flat out if she thought I was cut out for this job. She said she didn't know. She wanted me to give it another month and we would see.

To be honest, I have no idea when that month was up. We didn't have to talk about it again. I started praying daily for patience and wisdom. I started controlling small situations better. I was giving out more punishments. I started to get to know them and their different personalities. And they all have very different personalities. And things started to get better. I wasn't going home angry and frustrated. I wasn't crying. The kids were obeying. And I still enjoyed being with them.

I am so glad we are at this point now. This is not to say everything is perfect. I still have "off" days. But I can truly say I love all of them. There is not one child that I think "I wish he wasn't here" or "things would be easier without this child". God has given me such an incredible love for these kiddos. I am happy to be a part of their family.

Any visitor that is a volunteer or going to be working with the kids has to be called "brother" or "sister" (insert name) or "uncle" or "aunt". Most of the kids started calling me Tia Naomi (Aunt Naomi) right away but there were several that didn't. For them, it was a title to be earned. Though I don't remember the time frame I remember each moment when I realized certain kids had made the switch from Sister Naomi to Aunt Naomi. I had earned respect and a family tie in their minds. This makes it special for me. Now only the 18 and 19 year olds call me Sister Naomi. That is okay with me. I can't be an auntie to a 19 year old! Wasn't I just 19 a few years ago??

I love how the older ones joke around while we are doing dishes. I love how they share their Game-boys with me and sit next to me to cheer me on and how they want me to play soccer with them even though I am terrible at it! I love how the medium boys "hate" kisses and yet, if I haven't kissed them yet that day the say "you can't kiss me" and run away saying they don't want one and they hate them. Aren't they just asking for it?? I love how they want to play games with me. I love how the little ones just want to be held by me. How they want me to watch every movement they make. I love how they all like to check on what month is their month to visit my house for the evening. And then try to argue the order when they think their month is too far away.

Being a house-parent and being so involved in their lives has given me so much more than I could have known when I was hiding behind the pila to cry. I am still learning administrative stuff too. But I see know how it is all related.

I thought it was funny. I was dreading summer vacation a bit. I wondered what we would do with all that time on our hands!! Would they be bored and restless? Would there just be too many kids for me there all day? After 2 weeks I can tell you. I love having them home! Things are more relaxed. There are still scheduled activities and chores but we can play and too be honest, that is my favorite thing to do. I even like it when I am working on the computer and they detour past me just to say hi, to see what I am doing, to tell me I haven't kissed them yet that day, or just to stand next to me.

I guess I can't fully express all that I have in my heart right now. I may have even gone on too long anyway. I just now know how it feels to have kids truly love you. Even when I yell at them, or punish them, they still know I love them and they still keep coming back for more of that love. And like I tell them, nothing they do will change my love for them. But sometimes I think they want to test that! :)

I have truly found my place here in Guatemala. When we have teams they come and they play with the kids and then go home. They think they have had a great time with my kids. But they don't know the half of it. I'm the one they call auntie. I'm the one they tattle to. I'm the one that holds the little ones when they are hurt. I'm the one they joke around with and want to tell stories to. I'm the one who is so blessed to be a part of their family. I don't miss home anymore. Although I would love to have more visitors! ;)

Well, that is it. I am done with the mushy stuff for tonight. I keep tearing up thinking of all the great things that these kids do and how fantastic they are to me. So goodnight all. Sleep well and know that I am very, very happy. :)

Carlos.

(Carlos is not his real name. But for some reason I want to protect him so I am going to call him Carlos.)

I love Carlos. He breaks my heart. And he has been heavy on my heart for a few days now.

He is about 10 years old. I noticed him first because he would come running to give me a hug whenever I came (before I started full time) and would be so happy to see me. Who wouldn't love that?

As time went on I got to know him better. He has such a deep need to be loved, I don't think anyone, no matter who much they give him, will ever fill that need for him.

And as I got to know him I realized how he interacted with others. He is annoying. His desire to be involved or included is so great that it is overwhelming to those around him. If someone is playing a game he has to get right up beside them to watch. If someone is wrestling on the floor he has to throw himself on top of them. If someone is joking about something he has to laugh the loudest while looking around to see who is laughing with him. If no one is paying attention to him he has to hit another child, or tease them, or throw things at them (paper, erasers, etc.). Anything to get ANY kind of attention. And that just makes things worse.

He feels rejection so acutely. And when he feels rejected from me and he cries, it tears my heart into pieces. When he is doing homework he often cries if I tell him he needs to correct what he has done. This doesn't bother me as much. But when he is in trouble and he is in his room in a time out and I don't play with him or let him do something else; this is when he feels his most acute rejection from me. And he is in his room a lot lately.

He was told at the beginning of September that he would be going back to his home at the end of October. The courts wanted him to be able to finish out this school year. But his home situation is no bed of roses. Hence, him being with us. But the courts ordered (without a full investigation) that he be returned to his family. There are some family members that truly care for him and others who don't. But none of them want him to come back to the family house.

Since then he has been acting out even more. He broke a table at school. He ripped his backpack. He threw a rock at another boy from our home who attends the same school as him. He got into a fight with that other boy. And he fought again. And again.

It was explained to me by someone from the outside (she is a social worker in North America and volunteering with us for a bit) why he is doing that. And it ripped my heart out all over again.

He knows he is leaving. And it hurts. So if he gets everyone at school and the home mad at him, he can be mad at them, and it won't hurt so bad when he actually leaves. Oh God, help me.

I just want to steal him from the home, take him with me and pour into him for the rest of his life.

And sometimes I am the hardest on him. Aren't we often hardest on the ones we love the most?

I want everyone else to love him like I do. So I want him to change who he is so he is more loveable. I want him to not hike his pants up so high. I want him to not sit too close to the other kids unless they don't mind. I want him to be smarter so they won't make fun of him when he plays a new game and doesn't understand. I want him to stop fighting. For attention. I want him to stop playing when he is supposed to be doing chores so that no one can get mad at him for that.

In doing all that, I appear harsh at times. And yet every day, he comes running up to me after school and gives me the biggest hug. Every day.

A few weeks ago when he broke a table at school I wanted to talk to him about it. To convince him to not do it again so nobody would be mad at him. I asked him why he did it. Did he do it accidently? No. Did he do it because he was mad? No. Did he do it for attention? Yes.

Yesterday he had been in his room for a time out. For fighting. Again. He was playing with a toy. Which is not allowed in a time out. So I said he had to put it away and sit by the wall. I would rather be mad at him myself than have someone else mad at him. He started to cry (which doesn't always bother me) but then he looked up at me and I could see it. I was just another person in his life that didn't love him. That was always mad at him. That didn't accept him for who he was. Even as I write this I am crying again.

I left without saying anything. Later in the day he was sweeping in the boys room. I came up to him and told him I love him (which I often do). I asked if he knew that. He said yes. I asked him if I loved him when I was mad at him. He said no, I didn't. Really? How can he not know I love him every second of every day????

Well, let's see. He is 10. And some of his family members died. So they left him. Those who moved in to replace them didn't love him. So he had to come to us. And the kids are annoyed by him and reject him. The adults seem to be always mad at him. And now he has to go back to that family. So he is leaving us. What do I expect??

And yet, this kid remains happy. He sings and dances sometimes when he is sweeping. He loves coming to my house and often asks when he can go again. Today? Tomorrow? 5 days from now? (As a side note. They kids have a chance every 4 months to come to my house. Every month I have a different group. And he seems to have NO concept of 4 months from now.) He runs to me and hugs me whenever he comes home from school. If he is at the home when I get there in the a.m. he often runs to the car to hug me. He can play with his little toys and amuse himself and find others funny. For all his rejection and unhappiness, he is a very resilient little boy.

I mentioned earlier that he has a need for love that no one can fill. I am trying my hardest but I know it is not enough. He needs Jesus. Jesus can do this for him. But he needs to be taught. He needs to accept Him. He needs to remember when he goes back to his home and is being rejected over and over and over again.

So please pray for Carlos. And pray for me. That I can make the most of the time we have left together. That I can tell him how much I love him. That I can show him. That I can show him how much Jesus loves him and wants to be his Daddy. That Jesus is the one who will never reject him.

And pray for my heart. That will be breaking as he leaves me.

Update: It is now a few hours later. I was talking with the director of the Home. She told me more about his family history. It breaks me even more.

His dad was killed in front of him by a gang member last Christmas. Seriously??? In front of him! And then his mom took off and ran away to live in the U.S. I think an adult would have trouble dealing with that, let alone a little boy.

We do have a psychologist that comes in every Saturday to meet with our kids on an individual basis. But he is going to need a LOT more than some therapy. He needs the healing that only Jesus can bring him. Please pray.

Cheesy Cheetos.

This morning as I was getting ready to go to the Home I noticed some bright orange stuff on my jeans. And I thought of Noe. On Monday I was eating a bag of Cheetos and sharing with him. Inevitably that orange "cheese flavoring" was all over his hand. He didn't notice it for a while and hence it was on his face, the chair and my jeans. I noticed it but it didn't bother me. In Canada it would have. I am clean. I keep my clothes clean, my bed clean, and my room.... well, sometimes clean. Here in Guatemala my room is always clean. Just for the record. But I used to have a roommate and she would beg to differ that my room was always clean in Canada.

Anyway, I am still wearing the jeans. And I have all week. I don't like to use a lot of water here (to wash). And I just don't care. Plain and simple. I am glad I have changed. And now, when I look down and see "cheese flavoring" on my pants I can smile and think of my little guy.

Tomorrow is Friday. Good.

Hello all. I am tired. I don't like being by myself at home at night all the time. It is not too bad, not like it was at the beginning. But when my friend found a dog and asked me to foster him until she found his family I said yes. That was over a month ago now. He is mine. But he likes to wake up at 5:30. I used to get up right away and walk him because I would rather get up early then clean up pee, or even worse, poo, later on. That got old VERY fast. Those of you who know me really well will understand that. So now I make him go back to his bed and he promptly falls asleep while I lay there. It is good praying time but I am not always in the best of moods! I have thought about giving that little turkey away. But not sure if I want to yet.

Anyway, Tuesday I woke up and thought it was Friday and it wasn't. Not even close. And now tomorrow it will be. And my dog is at a sitter's place because I am at my friends house looking after her father-in-law while she and her family are in the U.S. So I am GOING to sleep in on Saturday. And that will be a good thing.

That really had nothing to do with anything. I didn't have any lesson or funny story or anything. Hmmm. On to other things then.

I stink at keeping up this blog. Wait. You already know that.

I went to breakfast with a friend of mine on Sunday. We have been family friends since she was about 3 years old (she is now 19). She was volunteering in a place called Tactic and was helping host all the teams that they have come through. I saw her 3 times in the six weeks she was here and let me tell you, it was great. I had two other people I thought were coming down and unfortunately neither of them can come now. So it is nice to have a bit of "home" here.

We decided to splurge ($11.) and go to a nice hotel for a buffet breakfast. I have wanted to go since June of last year when a surgical team I helped out let me stay with them for the night. The food is amazing! And plentiful. They have an omelet bar. You pick what you want to put in it. And they have fried plantains which are my favorite here.

When we got there the waiter said we could leave our bags at the table. I had already spoke to him in Spanish so I couldn't fake that I didn't understand but I sure wasn't going to leave my bag at the table no matter how nice the place was! So we just took them with us. When I went to sit down, Michelle put her bag down and went back for something else. She is skinny so she was allowed. The waiter came up and zap strapped our bags to our chairs! Too funny! I loved it. But didn't feel quite cheesy enough to take a picture of it. After all, we were in a nice restaurant.

Then we went to my church. Let me preface this story by saying that Michelle is a Music major in University, and my worship leader has a good heart and a voice that sings in tune but almost no timing whatsoever. It really threw me when I first started attending. I had a hard time worshipping when I knew he was coming in anywhere from 3-8 beats late. Anyway, we get to a song that Michelle actually knows. Poor girl. She didn't know the previous songs so she had no idea what was in store. She starts singing in the most beautiful voice and then finds herself singing in time, but singing alone. After about 2 verses she heads to the bathroom. I thought she might be sick because she had mentioned that she likes this song and I didn't think she would leave in the middle of it. But when she came back she said she was fine. I figured out later she must have left because it was impossible for her to sing like she wanted to. Ah Guatemala, how I love you. :)

Well, that is it for tonight. I am tired. I just needed to get my blog count back up again so here it is. Please don't give up on me!!! Take care all. God bless.

My drive last week.

I thought I would let you in on a glimpse on my driving life. I live in a small town about a 35 minute drive from Antigua (the main tourist town here in Guatemala) but in reality is less than 14 kms. I have to do my banking and grocery shopping outside of Parramos because it is so small.

So last week I went to Antigua after I was done at the Home at 5. I was with a Guatemalan friend. We passed a bus and a pick up that flashed me some hand signals. I have seen these signals and to be honest, I have no idea what they are trying to say. My friend said to me that they signaled to slow down farther down the hill. There was some sort of problem. She was very specific that is was not here, but farther down the hill. How she got all of that from a couple of hand signals, I have no idea! I was glad she was with me.


There is a stretch of road on the way down the hill that is just dirt on one side for about a km. The government quit paying the road crew sometime last year so the road was never finished. With the Tropical Storm and the heavy rains we have been having, the road is washing away. And not just the dirt, but it is eating away the foundation under the asphalt and that is crumbling away on the sides. It leaves for a pretty narrow lane. And where it is crumbling leads down the side of a steep hill. So there is no where to build that foundation back up again. It can make for a bit of a scary drive on a good day. Especially because nobody wants to drive on the rutted bad side so they drive the wrong way on the asphalt until another car appears. It is a windy road and the buses whip up and down it so this can happen without warning. I have seen and been involved in many close calls. And there is no shoulder to drive on (to avoid them) or cement barriers to prevent driving off the road and down the hill.

So back to last night. It was still light when I went down but I knew it would be getting dark when I came up. When we got to the bottom of the hill we saw the problem. There is another stretch of road 200 feet long that is often a river passing down when there is a lot of rain. Another night I came up in the dark and the water was a good 2 feet of rushing water that cars couldn't pass. Anyway, this time it was a semi-trailer stuck in the middle of the road. The main cab was backing up to try and hook up again to pull it out of the way. I drove around him and continued on my way. A few km's later I was in another town and all of a sudden traffic was being diverted and ambulances and fire trucks were driving by. It is hard to get out of the way of a two lane road that has no shoulder, just houses on the side of the road. I turned down a road and then my friend told me I would go way out of my way and I should go back and take a different road.

I dropped my friend off and did my banking and gorcery shopping and I really wanted to go to McDonalds but it was almost dark and I was worried about getting home. I still want McDonalds.

Anyway, I took a different way back. I wanted to avoid the accident so I took a different highway. But I forgot that there is a long stretch of really bad bumpy dirt road that I had to drive to get to the highway. But I was in luck! The ruts had been washed away from the rain and so many vehicles had driven over it that the ruts turned into a continuous road of deep water filled puddles. 15 feet long puddles that went from one side of the road to the other. You would pull up out of one and go right back down into another. It worried me that I couldn't see what was on the bottom (I have already had one flat tire from the bad roads) but I made it without incident. This stretch of road is also very remote so I wouldn't want to get stuck there by myself.

I made it back to the "river" stretch and it wasn't too bad. Just really muddy and I could feel my tires slipping (on a side note, the next day I asked my friend how to use the 4 wheel drive :) I have driven when the water was rushing by and about 2 feet deep.

So, I made it home okay and it was dark but that was okay. Then I was sorry I didn't get my McDonalds! :) Hindsight is always 20/20.

This post is not about complaining. I have become used to it and don't often get too nervous anymore. Although the other day I was in the Capital with a friend and I was doing an errand. I had to walk by myself for a bit and my friend later mentioned to me that it is nice to know we always have angels with us but sometimes she wishes for the angel Micheal! I feel the same way.

But as I was driving it I was thinking about how different my life really is now. I think about things that I didn't use to think about. I have to worry and watch myself and take precautions. I have to not get angry with terrible roads and unthinking people. But it is now normal. And I have good people around me. I know that I could call any number of people and they would help me in a heartbeat. Like my landlord.

Last night I had a large spider on my wall. It was too big to deal with on my own. So I went downstairs and told Axel that I needed help with a spider. I had no shame at this point. I showed him with my fingers how big her was (I included leg span in my estimation) and he was surprised. He said he had never seen one in town before. He asked if I had a broom to deal with it. When we got upstairs I think he had to bite his lip not to laugh. He thought I was talking about a tarantula! He took his shoe and just killed it. I tell you, it was big! He told me they were common and harmless. They are common??!!?? This is supposed to help me feel better??!! Later I thought about my can of Raid. I could have killed him with that and maintained my distance. But my grandpa gave me wise advice last time I complained about picking up dead bugs with toilet paper. I used a broom to sweep him up and I put him in the toilet. I wanted NO chance of reincarnation.

Alright, this is long. But I have a lot of time to make up for. I am still keeping up with the Home blog. http://www.newlifeandpeaceministries.blogspot.com/ So you can see pictures of me and my kiddos. Next time I write, I will write fun stories about them.


Bye!

P.S. These three guys were my dinner dates on Friday night. Jealous?

I am sorry.

My not keeping this up is inexcusable. I hate that I have let it go. Especially when I have so much fun stuff to write about!!!

I started working in a Children's Home at the beginning of May and I will be here for 2 years. I will be learning how to care for the children and all aspects of administration. Already it has been fun and heartbreaking and hard and hilarious. I have loved it.

One of the things I am doing is keep up their blog. It is embarrassing that I am doing better with their blog than mine. But to help you get a glimpse into what I am up to I will give you their blog site. How kind of me!!

http://newlifeandpeaceministries.blogspot.com/

At least there are pictures of me and the kiddos. And these kiddos are CUTE!

So, please enjoy, and let me know if you are missing me terribly and want me to do a better job. It would probably help if I had a bag of candies next to me. I guess I will just have to eat the chocolate and toasted coconut clusters that my friend just brought for me from the U.S. instead. People, she brought me a whole pound of them!!!! And they are amazing.

Happy Sunday.

It is Tuesday. Don't be confused by my title. On Sunday I realized that in 2 days (which translates into today) I will have gone a full two months without writing in my blog. It is easy to let it go once I start letting it go (if that made sense). Like too many other things in my life. So I started writing a blog post but then didn't finish it. I was about to do a prayer time and had some thoughts and I thought they would be good to put down. To help myself figure them out. 

I wanted to use the word melancholy in my title but I am not sure of its exact meaning. But I meant to use it to explain that this post won't be funny or uplifting. Just a little bit of thinking out loud and trying to sort my feelings while I am at it.

I love being here. 

I love being in Guatemala where the scenery is fantastic from afar even though it is really dirty up close. 

I love living in a culture that says "good afternoon" to everyone as they get on the chicken bus, or say "have a good day" as they get off the elevator in a nice mall in the capital city. 

I love watching men get up and let women have the inside of the bus seat so that the man will have 3/4 of his back end hanging in mid air, likely with a hand cramp from holding onto the rail (in an attempt to keep said back end LOOK like it is level while not falling off the seat when the G-forces increase as we whip around corners) and a cramped hip from using muscles that are unfamiliar to holding said back end in the air. I would like to insert here that I didn't used to be a fan of "chivalry" but I guess I do like it now. Especially when I have had one cramped hip too many. The chicken buses are really the best place to see the generosity and thoughtfulness in full swing.

I love going to the children's home and have the kids see me and make a beeline for me while yelling "mama" (only one can talk and hold a conversation and the few kids who have a few words either use mama or anna for everyone they see and know) and then get up in my arms and snuggle. I can't get enough of that. 

I love my church. Staying here for Christmas was the best thing that could have happened. I was sad to be away from everyone but I received so much by being here. I got to know a lot of people in the church that I would have not otherwise gotten close to. And I really cherish those friendships. 

I love that I have my friend Ruth here. I can go to her house whenever I want (well, when I have money and time) and I can lay on her couch for a week and not feel bad about it. I don't have to try to keep conversation going because if there is a silence it is one of those ones that don't matter. Although to be honest, we are not often silent. :) 

I love that people send me candy. I love the candy too, but the act of being SENT candy is what makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Mmmmm. Fuzzy peaches.

I love being able to speak Spanish. I know I am far from perfect but I understand what people say to me, and I can make myself be understood to other people. That is a big thing for me. 

I love what God it teaching me here. I know this should have been the first thing that popped into my mind, and trust me. I thought about moving this sentence to the head of the list, but I couldn't let myself. :) I am learning to hear from Him. Another thing I am far from perfect on. I think this takes practice an daily dedication to be confidently hearing God's voice and knowing there is no other way to go. I am also learning I am not perfect. Grace and understanding is being taught to me right now. Kind of a hard one when you have pride and when you are hurting.

But there is a flip side to this coin. There are sacrifices to be made. As most of you know, Disney is one of my favorite things. Disney movies, Disneyland, Disney World, and anything else that is cute and Disney. I have already been to Disney World twice, Disneyland four times, and Disney Paris once. This should be sufficient. But I still want more. I want to go on a Disney cruise. I want to go back to Disney World and spend days and days there until I am sick of it. I want to work for some Disney park, anywhere. And I wonder if I am 50 when I leave here, will I still be able to go to Disney World and still have so much fun? Or will I just look like some silly old lady? Aw, who cares? It is Disney World!!!!!

I want to go to Paris and spend a year learning French. I want to go to Italy and spend a year learning Italian. I want to go to Belguim and spend a year learning.... Belgique? To be honest, I have no idea what they speak. I want to go and live right in the middle of New York City for a year. 

I want to go to WalMart when I feel like it and buy a bag of candy. Or a new DVD. Or Kraft Dinner. I want to go out alone at night and not feel scared (terrified). I want to not have to worry about the way men look at me, or how to respond when they try to get my attention, or want to talk too long, or ask for my phone number just because I happen to be standing at the bus stop.  Or not worry about walking down the road and having my purse stolen or slashed. I want to have a shower that always works. I want a Honda CRV with heated seats, air conditioning, a fantastic sound system, and a sun roof. But not electric windows. I am too afraid they will short out if I drive into a lake. And then I won't be able to break the window to get out and I will die a slow and painful death. 

I want to go to the Cheesecake Factory and eat until I almost explode. I want to go to Old Navy and buy a bunch of relatively cheap t-shirts that I will have to replace in a year because they get these little holes in the front. But also not worry about having to buy them again in a year because I know the money will always be there for them. 

Small side note. Just googled the official language of Belgium. Dutch is most prominent, followed by French and German. Mostly I want to live there because I went once for two nights and I ate an authentic Belgium waffle that changed my life. 

There is a recurring theme here. Money. It takes a LOT of money to do those things. And if I was still at home making the money I did, and living at a low cost of living like I did, these things would be possible. I think this is the thing that most people (myself included) thought would be one of my biggest problems. That and being lonely. And until the last week or so, these were just very occasional thoughts that crossed my mind and didn't truly bother me. And maybe it is because I am going home in two weeks. I will be back among all these great conveniences, great people, great food and I am worried about how I will react. 

One of my friends has lived here for eight years. She was talking to me about going home. It is a hard time for her. She doesn't fully fit in here and she doesn't fully fit in at home. She is closer to being Guatemalan in the way she thinks and acts but no matter how flawless her Spanish is, she is white and will never be a true Guatemalan. But seeing the things she has seen here has changed the U.S. for her. Things bother her that most people in North America wouldn't think twice about. She works in a small town at a school for special needs kids. She makes home visits and takes kids to specialists and raises money for medications and daily sees the hard life that most Guatemalans live. 

I live in an apartment that has cement walls, tile floors and indoor running water. I am way ahead of the game. I volunteer in a children's home where they also have running water, clean clothes, enough food, electricity, and while they are struggling to make ends meet every month, God is faithful and keeps them fed and clothed and housed. So I don't see the poverty every day. Maybe this is why I can live in the country with the second highest rate of malnutrition (behind Haiti) in Central America and still be slightly apathetic. 

I hate that I have become "comfortable" here. I hate that I am not fired up and inspired to go find hungry kids and give them food. Or sick kids and give them medicine. Or kids with no house and build them a house. Or kids with no parents and give them unconditional love and affection while teaching them about God's unconditional love and affection.

What I feel led to do is go into children's home administration.

This keeps me in this comfort zone. For now. And it doesn't highlight my education as a nurse. My ultimate goal, and what I think God has in store for me, is to start a children's home for special needs kids. What that would do is: take hungry special needs kids and give them food EVERY day, give sick special needs kids the medicine they need, AS SOON AS THEY NEED IT, give special needs kids who have no home or roof over their head, their very own HOUSE, and lastly, it would give special needs kids the unconditional LOVE of Jesus every. single. day. 

It is just not glamorous. It wouldn't garner as much attention, or back slapping, or good stories for my blog as would running into the dumps every day loaded with food and medicine and candy. And I have to be okay with that. I mean, who doesn't love a good back slap from a friend or someone you respect? And yet, I feel God calling me into that and I would rather get a good back slap from Him. 

So, to keep these other feelings at bay, I need to pray. I think it is Satan working against me. I have committed to something for when I return and I don't think he likes it. So I am getting these feelings of unease and wanting more. This is not the me that I want to be. I WANT to be smack dab in God's will for my life and not give a hoot about what anyone else around me thinks. 

And I DON'T want to go home and have all those things. Well, to visit yes, but I want to stay living here.

So if you would join with me in prayer I would love that. I am sorry that this rambled on and on and I would love to get back to my regular funny story postings. I just need to get it out on "paper" so that I can move on from it. Here is a picture of one of the kids that I get to cuddle and play with and give love to every day. 

This is why I am here. 

Why am I so terrible at keeping up the blog???

Hello all.

I have so much to write and I just don't do it! 

Today I went to a senior's home with a group of kids from the children's home that my Pastors run. It was so much fun! There were about 12 kids that went. I love them all of course. :) 

I took my camera with me and I wanted so much to take pictures but I got too involved with doing stuff and didn't take a single one. :( One of the other ladies did so maybe I can steal them from her.

I love old people. When I worked with them in the hospital I found it very sad. They didn't have many visitors, they always looked bored, they had so many aches and pains and I just had a hard time dealing with it. I know all of that exists here as well but these seniors seemed to be pretty well taken care of. There were two big rooms (men and women) with the beds all lined up against the walls. We went out into the courtyard and they all started to trickle in. I went around and said hello to each one of them (I was supposed to be blowing up balloons. Oops). I have never been told how beautiful I am that many times!!!!! They all loved me. :) I tried to take a minute with each one. 

One man knew a little English as he has spent a year in Utah. Then he said something about playing basketball. So maybe he played basketball in Utah??? :) I was kissed on the hand by at least 3 men. And I know it is actually a bad thing for them, but when old people have no teeth and their lips are all sunken in and wrinkly, I think it looks so cute!!!! 

There was one lady with a black eye and a gauze bandage on her forehead. She said someone else came up to her while she was laying in bed and hit her in the face and in the stomach with their shoe!! Another lady just started crying and crying when I asked her how she was and she was telling me all these terrible things. I couldn't understand all of it. But it broke my heart. I don't think it all was true but you never know. 

Another man had no teeth and maybe had had a stroke. He was mobile though. He had so much to say!!!! He kept coming up to me to tell me things. And he used hand motions. I can't tell how lucid he was because his language was so garbled (one of the reasons I think he had a stroke) And he was showing me some cut outs of magazines that he had. He was very cute. But he spit a LOT when he talked! 

The kids all blew up these long balloons to give out (the ones you make balloon animals from) and they had no fear in approaching the seniors and helping out. They go once every two months. The other month in between they visit a home for kids with AIDS. I can't wait to go there as well! One of the teenage boys (he just turned 18) went up to one of the ladies and made a necklace out of the balloon and tied it around her neck. It was so cute I could have cried! This kid obviously has a really good heart. We sang a song (and I even got in there and waved my balloons around as well) and handed out cookies and juice. They were so grateful and kind in receiving it. Some of them were reverting back to their childhoods mentally, but most of them seemed lucid. We were only there an hour and I would have loved to stay a lot longer. Maybe it is something I can do on my own. Seriously, I loved it there. 

The staff seemed really great. Attentive and kind, and I was told later by a guy who works at the children's home that a lot of the staff are volunteers. I hope this next thought comes out right. I used to think that we missionaries here give up a lot and, although we are no better than anyone else, we are doing a good thing for the "poor people of Guatemala". The longer I am here and the more I get to know people here, I have not given up the most. I have a good standard of living. I budget, and I don't have a lot (or any) excess but I still have a lot compared to a lot of people here. And if I REALLY need something I know that someone at home will help me. If I NEED to get away, someone will buy me a plane ticket home. 

I met a young couple in December when I was traveling in the Peten (the jungle in the North of the country). They lived near the Capital and a couple weeks after they were married they were called to pastor a church up in a place called Mario Mendez. It is remote! We couldn't take the van out there, someone took us in their 4x4 truck. They live in a simple house, dirt floors, thatch roof, and a hammock in the middle of the room (which I took advantage of!) and not a lot of access to anything. It took them 15 hours on many different buses (with their 10 month old daughter) to get home for a visit this Christmas. I went to visit their family and I will write another post about that. It was amazing. Anyway, they have been there for 2 years now. They have given up their family (which here, is a much bigger deal) their resources, their nice climate (it is really hot and humid where they live now) and much more. I know that Abigail is lonely. She had to have her first baby away from her mother and sisters and extended family. I am not sure but I assume a local midwife delivered the baby. At least, I hope she had someone else there! 

And then these people who could be out making a better wage, decide to care for old people in their home. It is not like when we in Canada volunteer in a home. We read books, sing songs, hand out food, etc. These people are changing beds, changing clothes, changing diapers, feeding them, helping when they are hurt, and on and on. For free. Because they have good hearts. 

I know of a Dr. who practices not far from where I live. He is in his mid thirties and treats everyone. He has good equipment, good education (he spent time in a med school in the U.S.) and could be treating only the wealthy. He treats many from the village clinic where I volunteered, he started giving out food in a local dump nearby. Providing food and help with education and medical services to people who live in garbage.

What do I do? I work in a nice clean home for special needs kids. I sometimes change diapers but mostly the ladies do it. I work on the computer. I play with the kids when I want to. I go home at night to an apartment that is safe and nice and clean and although I hate my tiles, I have tiles. I don't have cement or dirt for floors. I watch my cable (I have a couple of English channels) and I eat Kraft Dinner or other treats that people send me. They send me these treats because I can't get them here. And imported candy is expensive. And I love that people do this for me. But the big question is, what have I really given up? I could list things for you but I sometimes feel it doesn't compare to the generosity and giving up of things that is done here locally. The stuff that isn't seen by most groups and people that come down here. Even I was ignorant to it until a couple of months ago. Because these people won't brag about it. When I go home in April and I meet new people and they ask me what I am doing here I will tell them. And they will think, and more often than not tell me, that I am great. I am doing such a good thing. I am not folks. And this is not me being humble. It is me being honest. I could be doing a lot more. I need to be doing a lot more. 

And my Guatemalan friends down here treat me so well. Like I am special. And I don't think it is just because I am such nice and great person! :) They clean my bathroom, they give me surprise birthday cakes, they prepare special food for me, they buy me housewarming gifts, they don't mind spending time to show me places, or take me through the market so I don't get ripped off, etc. People in Canada do this too (except maybe the cleaning my bathroom part!). And maybe it is me and my bad thinking. That I think they have less to give and so they shouldn't give anything to me because I have so much more than they do. But it seems to mean a lot more to me down here than at home. They give so unselfishly and with a genuine heart behind it, more so than I ever will. I don't want to share my candies. And yet when I visit someone in their house I am given the best food and the best chair. I have SO much to learn from people here. About how to be Jesus. And how to give properly. 

Well that rant went on. 

In the car on the way home I pretty much tickled kids all the way. I would have loved to go back to the home with them and stayed longer. Two of the girls held on pretty tight when they dropped me off at the bus. There are only 5 girls and about 20 or so boys. And they have a "mom" who is there full time but I think they like to have other girls to talk to as well.

Anyway, I am off to take a look at an exercise video that my friend sent me. I was complaining to her that I can't run here (it is too dangerous in my area) and I needed to do some exercise. Problem is, well, it is not a problem, she sent candy as well. She told me she felt a little silly in the Wal-Mart line up with her exercise video and a bunch of bags of candy. So I guess I could eat the candy while I am exercising. That would negate all calories right? Because on Monday I hit a milestone. I am now 30 years old. So my metabolism that I have been abusing for years will continue to decline more so than it already has. How sad. 

Did you know that ageism is the only "ism" that people always get over? With racism you can stay a racist all your life because you won't change color. With sexism, you will be a sexist all your life because you won't change your sex (although changing your sex is an option, but if you do, it is obvious that you don't "not like" the other sex. Did any of that just make sense??!!??) But with age, we will all get old. And we will change our minds at some point. If you think that old people are in the way and have nothing to add to society, you WILL change your mind. Not sure where I heard that. 

So, carry on with your lives people. And thanks for stopping by!!!

Happy New Year!

This is a quick one. I am tired. I wrote my first ever newsletter and just sent it out. If you follow this and want to receive what will hopefully be a "monthly" newsletter please leave me a comment with your e-mail address.

God bless you all in the New Year!