It's the little things.

Today I was reminded of the little things in my life that mean so much. So I guess that makes those things not little. Because they mean a lot.

I just got an e-mail from Chici. My "boss". She is so much more though. She is the spiritual mentor I have always wanted. She is teaching me how to administrate. She is teaching me how to love. She is teaching me how to be a good, strong christian woman. She is my pastor's wife. She is willing (and loves) to eat McDonalds with me. And she laughs with me when we eat a medium cheese pizza between the two of us. :) But most importantly, she is my friend. In this e-mail she writes, "Miss you already and you haven't left". I am so blessed to have her in my life.

I turned on my oven to make a pizza. And it turned on. I braved Tropical Storm Agatha last year in order to get to a garage sale an hour and a half early in order to get this oven for only $100. I was really excited about it but found later that the oven didn't always work. I have another very close friend here whose husband offered to pick up the part I needed in the U.S. for me and then install it as well. I made dinner for him and his family and found out the a.m. that they were coming that the meal I planned to make was one of his least favorite. Oops. He installed it anyway.

I have a friend who gave me a washing machine when she bought a new one. Unfortunately, something went wrong 6 months later and it quit working. But I had been given enough money in December that I could buy myself a new washer for my birthday. :) This is no little thing. It is hard to not have a washer. I often drive by the town pila's (big cement "sink" that holds water) and see ladies washing their clothes. They don't always have running water in their home (the town only turns on the water for a few hours in the a.m. Thankfully, my landlords have a big tank that sits on our roof and I always have water) so they wash in the pila's. They often have large families and are washing every couple of days. Washing clothes is physically hard work. And then they have to carry their wet clothes back to the house to hang it up to dry. Sometimes they have a wheelbarrow but most often, the ladies carry it on their heads. So I am thankful for a washing machine. But I miss having a dryer. Although I have gotten used to having clothes up on the line.

My landlords are amazing. I was sick a few weeks ago. I had thrown my garbage over the railing instead of walking down the stairs (the garbage REALLY needed to go out that day as I was sick IN the garbage). Unfortunately it landed in the middle of their walkway. So I texted them apologizing about it and said I was sick. They called me and asked what they could bring me. They went to the store and bought 2 types of crackers, sprite and gatorade. I had been crying earlier because I was sick by myself but it was nice to know someone cared. Adela even made me chicken and veggies for lunch. They were almost upset with me because I hadn't told them earlier in the day. And now, because I am leaving, they want to take me to the next city over for dinner on Monday night, my last night here. They are amazing landlords and I am so blessed to be living here.

I have such good friends here. My circle of friends is small but their friendships mean more. They hold me accountable. They give me things. They lend me things. They bake me yummy treats. They give me advice and worry about me. And when I see the quality of people that they are, I feel blessed that they call me their friend.

And the kids. I was surprised at the beginning when I fell so in love with them so quickly. And I had my times of trials with them but I still loved them. And it has grown into such a deep love that is scares me. They make me laugh. They make me angry. They make me insane. They make me so happy. They make me proud. I love knowing each one of their personalities. My best friends at home had girls and I didn't know what to do with boys. I was very hesitant about whether or not they would like me, or would I know how to play with them. And it has been amazing. Except this a.m. in homework time (the kids were off school and I was on my own with half of them). One of them let out a toot and it was pretty stinky. Thankfully those times are rare though. I get a kick out it. If someone is stinky or makes a noise they have to go stand outside the door for a couple of minutes. One day Antoni, our little 7 year old who is still learning to talk, was trying and trying to tell me something and getting very distressed because I didn't understand. Finally figured out he wanted permission to go outside to toot. His belly still has troubles because of his previous malnutrition so whenever someone doesn't want to admit to their stink, they blame it on poor lil Antoni!!!

As I now only have 4 sleeps until I leave for my former home it got me thinking. It is such a far away life. I have been to Canada once in the last 2 years. I live here now. And I have adapted. And I love it. I have established a life full of all the things I had before that were important, and then some.

I don't lead a charmed and perfect life. I have my bad days just like everyone else. But I love where I am and I love what I do. I would be truly sad at this point if God called me back to North America.

So here are some thoughts on a Friday night. I suspect that next time I write in here, it will be from CANADA!!!

Have a great weekend. I will. :)

It's a good thing I have my kids to keep me sane.

I have been stressed lately. I shouldn't even be awake right now. But I am trying to get stuff done.

But the stress is new for me. I don't get stressed much. And definitely not for long periods of time. And definitely not about going to Canada.

Guess there is a first time for everything.

But today I laughed a lot. Thanks to my kids. Sadly, along with the stress increase, comes a decrease in memory. But I remember telling one kid I was glad he was in my life. So it must have been good, whatever he said. Then again, I was about to cut him a brownie so he was probably sucking up so he got a bigger piece. Whatever. It worked.

I had to go to a meeting at one of the schools today. We didn't know what it was about so I took Angel (14 year old) with me. I didn't want to miss anything important. It turned out to be something about the parents coming to take their turns to make the snack. People weren't showing up, etc. So they said we would each get a paper with the name of 2 other people on it. Then I stood around for at least 1/2 hour while I tried to figure out what was going on.

Turns out, we had to find "friends" to sign up with us. 2 of them to be exact. Seriously? So here is the big white girl (I am a good head or more taller than anyone else in that room of about 100 women) standing there trying to figure out what was going on. And I sat on a bench next to a kid and he started wailing when he saw my white face. I even have a tan right now folks! I told the ladies writing down the names that I wanted a morning. They asked the group if anyone wanted to partner with me. Silence. It was worse than getting picked last for a team at gym.

I made an announcement. I didn't know how to make atole (the drink) and I wouldn't be the one coming. Someone else would. I thought maybe they didn't want to get stuck with someone who didn't know what they were doing. Silence.

So then they asked who else was ready to sign up. Then I heard a lady (who was only 3 feet in front of me and had heard me speak Spanish) say to another lady, "I don't want to be with the gringa". Nice. (a gringa is a white American) I looked at her and waited for the punch line. There wasn't one. She was serious.

I eventually found 2 other misfits who hadn't already made it obvious they were alone (one being a girl that looked about 12 years old) and signed up.

On the way home I pulled out a Snickers that I have had in my purse for a long time. I shared it with Angel to get over my rejection. He ate most of it very happily. He then informs me that he loves to eat chocolate but doesn't like the taste it leaves in his mouth. What did he want? A pepsi? Of course! But I didn't think he could finish it before we got home. He assured me he could.

So we stop at a store and he bought a 355 ml bottle (it was little and cute) and then informed me he could finish it before we got to the end of the block. Well, I didn't want to lose. He would have won except for the speed bump. I may not have slowed down for it as much as I should have. :) So I had a good laugh watching him chug. Then for the next 2 blocks I watched him try not to burp too loud at all the gas he had just thrown into his stomach!

When I got home, a couple of barbers showed up to cut the kids hair. Then I got to tell them how handsome they all looked.

It was a fantastic afternoon.

P.S. I am the only one allowed to call him Angelito (little angel)

The hard part.

This morning on facebook I saw a link to the blog of a missionary I met at a conference I went to in February. When I shared my vision with her of starting a home for kids with special needs she immediately replied, "can you start now?" She is a physiotherapist and has an outpatient clinic for kids and adults.

She began to tell me the story of a little girl. The story she shared this a.m. on the blog. http://journeyswithjennifer.wordpress.com/2011/03/22/jessicas-story/ She speaks of the little girl who went from a walking, talking little girl to one who can not even sit up on her own. This is a hard transition for any family let alone one who has very limited resources and limited education. In the villages, the belief is that a child who is "different" is either a punishment from God or completely the mothers fault. There is a huge stigma attached to having a child with special needs.

And my heart broke this morning. I know what God has called me to do. And I know His timing is perfect. But why can't I save this one little girl right now. Then I got to thinking. For every child I hear about in a desperate situation, there are hundreds more that I don't know about that are suffering. And hundreds more that I won't be able to save. So how do I choose? I want a home of only about 15 kids.

I have to know that what I am doing is helping those few more than I will ever fully understand, but what about the rest? That is the hard part.

Denis

I love Denis. I love them all but this one is a story about Denis so I thought I would throw the previous sentence in there. :)

On Monday I was helping a kid with their homework. Often the kids need to look through newspaper and magazines and cut stuff out. Things that are black. Things that start with the letter T. Things that are stupid. And I have no idea how or why this helps them learn. But that is for another post.

Anyway, the kid I was helping needed math help. This is an every day thing. The kids have grade 3, 5 and 6 math that they always need help with. And I am not a teacher. So I don't explain as well as I wish I did. That is also for another post. :)

As I was sitting there exasperated and wishing homework time was over, Denis came over and leaned against my chair. Sometimes he comes up and doesn't say anything so I asked him what he wanted. He handed me a small cut out of a giraffe. He knows giraffes are my favorite. Now if that isn't the cutest thing you have heard all day, I don't know what is! Once he saw how happy I was, he just went back to his seat and kept going with his homework.

That giraffe is now sitting on my dresser. He is very cute. I have the cutest kids ever. Really.

Miracle in the airport.

Last year, at the end of April, I had been in Canada for a few weeks and was stopping over in the U.S. to see some good friends of mine. We had FUN! I love their kids. I tried a new cinnamon bun recipe. It turned out to make "the goodest cinnamon buns ever" as declared by Luke.

We watched movies, did homework, played outside, went for dinner, danced, snuck me into a Crayola focus group and I even plugged up their toilet! P.S. Glen, I am still sorry I needed your help!

Carline and Luke kneading the dough.

Luke. At this point he had serious lung disease. Along with a whole host of other problems. He is the cutest and sweetest 9 year old I know. He is now 6 months post double lung transplant! With no sign of rejection!!! Praise God. His whole life has changed. If you want to read about them, their blog is http://www.cotaforlukem.com/blog. Really, they are an amazing family!

Carline making the icing.

How cute is this kid??!!??

How cute are we??!!??

Me with my "goodest cinnamon bus ever"!

Logan helped out with the icing too.

Yum!

About this point, Luke was ready to keep me forever!

I don't remember where Gregory was while we were making them, but I know he got in on the eating action. :)

As did Kiera, who was the youngest at the time.

It was a fun transition time for me. I wasn't worried about going back, which surprised me. I thought that I would get home and remember all the great things about living there and just want to stay there! As much as I had a fantastic time, I was ready to go "home" to Guatemala. That is when I knew I was legitimate. God had me down here for a reason and he put a desire in my heart to be among things that aren't necessarily comfortable, and yet so very rewarding and fulfilling.

My friends and family were so generous to me. I had 2 suitcases packed with stuff I had been given and needed. There are a few things that I can't get down here that I really do "need"! :)

Then I went to Heather's house. And they gave me more stuff! We went to a book store and Heather had a gift card and she said I could buy some books. Yay! I love books. She didn't tell me how much it was though so I thought I would choose 2 books. I ended up having 4 in my hand and I was asking her advice on which ones to pick. She made me pick them all! Wow, what a pushy friend she is.

We also did a Target run so I was filled to overflowing when I left.

I didn't get a chance to weigh my bags before I left the house but I knew they were overweight. They HAD to be. I had stuffed my carryon with a lot of stuff and it was so heavy but I was worried about my checked bags.

Glen ended up driving me to the airport that was over an hour drive away. And we left at 5 a.m. (P.S. Thanks Glen for getting up early and driving me so far!) When we got there, I got in the line up and almost right away was at the counter. Glen had gone to park the car and came in to make sure I was okay. Well, I was more than okay! The weight machine at my counter didn't work!!! And instead of lifting them 4 feet over to measure on the next scale, she just let them through! I was thrilled. It was a such a blessing for me. To have all this extra stuff that are luxuries for me, but not all necessary, and to be just waved through like that. I was so happy.

So happy in fact, that I wanted to share my joy with Glen. He is deaf. He had a cochlear implant so with that and reading lips I can communicate easily with him. Except I do have to raise my voice a little. So here I am, not wanting her to weigh my bags (which weren't on their way out yet) but wanting Glen to know about my miracle. So I turned away from the lady and tried to whisper really loudly so he would hear and she wouldn't. It mostly worked. She didn't hear, or if she did, didn't care, and Glen heard that the scale was broken but not that I knew my bags were overweight and I was successfully scamming the airline! Hee hee.

I am going to visit them again at the beginning of May on my way back from Canada. I look forward to seeing Luke withOUT oxygen. I have already been given my baking orders. :) I look forward to hanging out with all of those kids again. Last time I got roped into playing soccer with Gregory (I stunk at it. Still do) I cuddled with Carline and watched movies. I snuck in on Logan's crayola time. And just watched Kiera be hilarious. She is a bit wild. And now there is a new little girl for me to snuggle. I look forward to meeting Makayla. And just visiting with Heather. She promised to take me to the Melting Pot which is a fondue place. I get hungry just thinking about it!

Well, I meant to tell one small story and it kind of grew. I think I am de-stressing from a terrible afternoon of Math homework with our kids in grade 5 and 6. Whew.

Plus, you get 2 posts in one day! What a bonus! :)

My Desire.

This is a song by Jeremy Camp and it is what I based the title of my blog on. It is playing right now and it still speaks to my heart. Sometimes songs speak for me better than I can.

You want to be real
You want to be empty inside
You want to be someone laying down your pride
You want to be someone someday
Then lay it all down before the King
You want to be whole
You want to have purpose inside
You want to have virtue and purify your mind
You want to be set free today then lay it all down before the King

[Chorus:]
This is my desire
This is my return
This is my desire to be used by you

You want to be real
You want to be emptied inside
And I know my heart is to feel you near
And I know my life
It's to do your will
It's to do your will

[Chorus]

All my life I have seen where you've taken me
Beyond all I have hoped and there's more left unseen
There's not much I can do to repay all you've done so I give my hands to use

Enjoy!

Noe.

I have written about Noe before. I love that kid. He has captured my heart completely. Even when he drives me crazy. Which happened last week. Multiple times. And then he looks up at me and says "You haven't kissed me yet today." And I scoop him into my arms and give him as many kisses as I can before he is ready to move onto the next thing. Which is never long enough. He is a busy guy. Can't sit still for long at all. And sometimes he kisses me back. That is always the best. At one point today we had been talking and someone got my attention and I turned and headed toward that person. As I moved away I felt him grab my hand and kiss it. Sigh.

When I first got to the home he was one of the few that called me Sister Naomi instead of Auntie Naomi. He switched a few weeks later. It meant a lot to me. I had to earn a place in his family. Then he started calling me Mama. I won't lie. I loved it. But knowing that I am just short term, I had to stop him. I didn't want him confused and hurt later. But he is one of our actual orphans. They even had to make up a birthday for him as they had no idea when it was.

I want to cuddle that munchkin all the time. In November we went on an overnight camping trip. On the second day I was watching the soccer game and from behind me comes a loud cry and I knew instantly it was Noe. He had somehow gotten his foot jammed under a swing that was basically dragging on the ground as it was full of kids. No doubt this was his own fault but I just un-jammed his foot and put him on my lap. And he cried for a bit and then was quiet. I was waiting for him to jump up and run away like he always does. But his foot must have been really hurting because he just stayed there. I was so happy. Why can't he hurt himself more often? Oops, was that in my outside voice? ;) He gradually moved off my lap but stuck with me for a while longer.

At the first lunch we were at, Rodolfo decided to take pictures of everyone with their plate of food as they walked back to the tables.

This is me:

And this is Noe:

These pictures were taken a couple of minutes apart. So we were not copying each other. We could be related! Who else is weird like that?

One last story about him. Months ago we had a group come that was giving out shoes and playing with the kids. Someone took this picture for me. He was squeezing my neck so hard and I loved the feel of his cheek against mine.

And then I turned away to talk to someone else and he wouldn't let go. He still wanted to squeeze my neck and be as close to me as he could, as evidenced by the next picture.

So that was my Noe post. One LAST thing. I promise. When we tell the kids something they are technically supposed to say "muy bien" (very good) and go do it. This is pronounced moo-ey bee-en. Sometimes he says moo ben and I love it. Except when I am mad at him. But still when I think of it later, I still love it. I just love that kid.

Goodnight.