This Pondering Heart

"­ ¿ Vas a ser una Sor (nun), doctora, o maestra?" Charlie* (one of the young boys) casually asked me, his arm on my shoulder and a huge grin spreading across his tiny face.  "Hmm.  ¿ Que piensas?" I asked, watching the weekly scrimmage futbol game in front of us trying to stifle a laugh at the very limited three options he presented.  Within four seconds he responded, "Sor." -------------------- Almost every day I've lived here has felt like three days squished into one. From the moment I wake up (usually 5:07AM) to when I hit the pillow (on a good day 9:30PM), I've exhausted all of my energy and can barely recall what happened after morning prayer. I've been lucky to feel very at peace with the pace of life Honduras offers. It hasn't been a difficult adjustment to wash my clothes by hand and wait all day for them to dry on the line. I don't mind flushing the toilet with a bucket of water or washing my hair less because we hav

Paz y bien.  It's more than just a way to get everyone to quiet down to listen to an announcement, it really is the finca's way of approaching life. ---- I can't believe I'm actually here. I'm finally at the place I've been tranisitioning into for months. And now that I'm here (though my brain is moving on hyperspeed) my heart is at peace. I hear the ocean waves from my (new) house. Geckos are chirping at every hour. I am constantly sweating. Spanish clouds around me. Bucket showers are normal. I'm constantly reminded that I've finally made it. I'm home. --- It's been a slow easing in as we absorb how the current missionaries live, learn the names of the kids and staff, solidify rules in our brain, and give ourselves time to adjust to esta vida bellisima.  It's been a lot to take in, but every day I wake up I feel how joy, hope, and trust embrace this corner of the world. Everything is new. Everything is different. But it