Reflecting...

You know what's funny? Even when you move to a new country, under the Lord's providence, to do "mission work," you are still the same person you were at home. You're just in a different place with different people, and possibly learning a different language. Your thoughts, values, longings, struggles - they're all the same. It's just real life in a new environment. And even when you know this is where you are supposed to be, that doesn't make it any easier.

This morning was a little hard. I'm still in the tourist stage of my culture shock, and I've been okay with the whole missing home issue because everything's new and I've already been in strange places with strange people (haha) for this length of time before. Then before church this morning, I was checking the weather and decided to check up on the tropical storms, and saw a map predicting something heading toward Alabama - and it was the weirdest moment. I guess I do best when I'm in denial and just try not to think about home. But maybe that's a little too self-absorbed.

I'm doing better tonight. Little by little throughout the day, the Lord has reminded me of why I am here and why all this is worth it. Here in Honduras, because I'm in the city and living/working with North Americans, it is so incredibly easy to stay Americanized, and I'm not so sure that's a good thing. I guess challenges and changes in life can help you to really see yourself. While walking in the mall yesterday, I realized how materialistic and comfortable I've come to be. And now I'm here and it's like I have the choice. I can make my life look so much like my other one, or I can let go of those things and really change. It's quite an internal delimma. I think part of it depends on how I view my time here, regardless of whether that be one year or more. Will I spend this season of my life clinging to familiarity and viewing myself as a visitor? Or will this really become home? Who will I be if and when I return to live in the States again?

I've been tempted to take and post some pictures of the sights I see when we drive through the city and up the mountain. Poverty here is radically different than anything I've seen at home. But part of me doesn't just want to put these homes, these lives, on display as something to be pitied. This summer I learned that they are not a mission - they're people... I think that concept can be really hard to live out - to really view myself as coming alongside them rather than making sacrifices to come down to them.

Of course, the ministry here at the school is even quite different than I may have preferred for myself if it was only up to me and my own plans for my life... ALP is one of the most expensive schools here, so many of the families are very wealthy. Simply because I'm a "gringa" (which means white girl or North American), I am considered rich - but I'm starting to think that some of these families have so much more than I have ever had, and I think that is pretty far from my stereotypical idea of what missions is. However, the spiritual hardships of the rich are clearly outlined in Scripture and I can already see that this soil is very hard and dry, and yet in serious need...