Underwater...

While I was in Honduras, one of my roommates and I went to the island of Utila for Semana Santa.  

Two American girls, traveling by bus and boat, having an experience of a lifetime, and realizing just how much God takes care of us. There were some slightly scary stories to tell from this trip, and if you'd like to hear them, ask me personally and I'd love to share them with you! 

Despite some of the crazy things that happened, and despite losing a close friend two days prior, we had a good time.  For me, it was a soothing time.  I didn't realize how hard it was to be landlocked until I was landlocked. So, Utila was a fantastic change of scenery.  Beautiful mountains to my back, and the crystal clear waters of the Caribbean to my face (a face that learned to wear sunscreen!). 

Snorkeling in the Caribbean will go down as one of my favorite experiences in the entire ten months I was in Honduras.  It was like I was in a gigantic fish tank.  Standing on the dock as I was putting my flippers and snorkel on, I thought, "It's so beautiful out here! Nothing but ocean for miles and miles and miles." 

And then I went under water and saw this.

And I went, "Woah." 

And y'all, let's be honest...it's hard to take pictures underwater. I kept smacking my goggles with the camera just so I could see through the little glass, lens, thingy (can someone say digital cameras?) and still missed most of the fish I was chasing. 

As I was under there I just kept thinking to my self, "Man, God makes some sweet stuff!"

And speaking of sweet stuff....

We tried....

My soundtrack for the weekend was (shocker) Switchfoot's latest album, Fading West. My favorite song is Saltwater Heart.  The chorus says, "When I'm on your shore again, I can feel the ocean. I can feel your open arms. That pure emotion.  I'm finally free again, by my own explosion."  After everything that had happened in the past couple of days, just hanging out in the ocean among some of the coolest creations I've seen, was definitely like sitting in God's living room, just talking and hanging out and allowing him to heal some wounds. 

The Next Step

Back in April, one of my roommates and I took a short "Semana Santa" trip to Utila, Honduras. While we were on the island, we went snorkeling in, what I was told, is the second largest corral reef next to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. It was an absolutely amazing experience. It was like I was inside a gigantic fish tank. So, if you see me longingly looking at a fish tank, you'll know why. Anyway, back on track. There was a point when my roommate popped her head out of the water and yells, "I found the drop off!!!" I suddenly had the biggest desire to drink water, which was on shore, away from the drop off. Jenna said she had never seen me move so quickly.

If you ask me what my biggest fear is, it's not knowing.  In the reef, I knew where I was, I knew what I was doing, and I was seeing some awesome stuff. But the drop off...oh the drop off. There was too much water and not enough knowledge for my tastes. My heart rate went down as I sipped on some cool, refreshing water. I laughed at myself and my reaction towards "the drop off" and decided to go back out. When you're under water and snorkeling, you kind of have no sense of direction.  It's actually relaxing because in your mind you're thinking, "As long as I don't see a man eating shark, or a gigantic sting ray that could stab me to death, I'm okay." Before I knew it, I was facing the drop off. My heart was racing. My palms were damp (yes, even in the water, I could feel the sweat of my palms). But I just sat there, looking at it. It was the deepest, prettiest, most amazing blue I had ever seen. It was also the most vast, most dangerous thing I had ever seen.

As I was floating there, right on the edge of the reef and the big blue (as our friendly, orange, clown fish would say), I thought, "Wow, this is kind of like my future. It has the ability to be really exciting and amazing, and at the same time, kill me." At that point, I had recently made the decision to not go back to Destino and had absolutely NO idea what I was going to do when I got home.  My whole plan for coming home was, "Eat Chick-Fil-A, go to my church, get a job, and get a place of my own." After applying to some jobs and having interview difficulties (something about being countries away throws a wrench in your plans) I had just surrendered the job search for the time being. I figured I would start looking once I got back Home.  And then my dad's accident happened and I came home earlier than planned.

The night I got home, my mom came to me and said, "I didn't want to throw this on you too soon, but Taft really wants you for their youth minister." And I was stunned! Ever since working with their middle schoolers for VBS last summer, I wanted to be their youth minister. But, that one would have to hold because I was Honduras bound! I had spoken with the pastor a few times on Facebook just checking up on the kids. I had even told him that if they hadn't found a youth minister by the time I got back, I'd love to help them out.  Turns out, God was saving that spot for me!

So yes, my future has the ability to be exciting and amazing and kill me at the same time.  I don't know how long I will be at this church ministering and encouraging these kids in their walk with Christ. Could be one year, could be ten years! But I will stay there until God tells me to go somewhere else.  And let me tell you, I am excited!!!

All Because of Jesus

It's been almost two weeks since the last day of school and what an emotional and crazy ride it has been.  The Tuesday after we finished school, I received the news that my dad had been in a bad accident.  I made the immediate decision to come home two weeks earlier than I had originally planned. Thankfully, classes were over and I wouldn't leave people at a great disadvantage.  So, Wednesday and Thursday I worked with the other teachers on getting things in order for next year. 

These two days were full of things to do which was a blessing.  I am (as my aunt calls me) the "freak-out-child."  This is due to a crazy imagination that, simply put, knows no bounds. I would start at the thought of, "God pulled my father through an accident" and would head into, "There's a reason people are calling this a God thing" which would lead to "MY DAD ALMOST DIED!" Which led me to think of my dad dying which of course, led to tears, lots and lots of tears. Over my imagination. 

In the amount of time that I've been home, I've seen so much improvement in my dad's health. His head wound is healing wonderfully, his hands are practically all better, and he's moving around with a lot more ease.  God is AMAZING!!! There are so many ways my dad could have died. If the vehicle rolled one more time, he probably wouldn't have made it. If he had a different type of seat belt, he would have landed in a worse position. But it all boils down to, if God had not wrapped my father in His wings, by Dad wouldn't have made it. But, I'm finally getting a heart knowledge in this, my dad did make it, and it's all because of Jesus. 

With that being said, here's some pictures of my last few days in Honduras!

*Note. There's a tadpole in there. I promise! They're not just showing off a dirty cup that they found. 

Last Days

The last day of classes was on Friday. Oh my, that was a day!
It started off as usual, we picked up the kids at the usual time. I was able to land bus duty on the last week of school, which I may complain about but I secretly LOVE bus duty. Well, I guess it's not a secret anymore now that it's on the internet. This is just a fun time to talk to a bunch of students and greet them and play with them (we've all gotten proficient in poking someone and then blaming it on someone else).

We were supposed to have soccer games in the morning but that's kind of hard when it was raining so hard the animals started showing up two by two. This led to indoor desperation moments of singing songs in English and Spanish in first grade along with reading "la libro grande!" Side note: I read my kids this GIGANTIC Mercer Mayer book earlier in the week and they LOVED it and wanted to read it again.  I highly recommend "My Special Friend" by Mercer Mayer. It was cute and gave us opportunities to talk about how to be nice to our friends.And it's a plus if you can read it from a book that is 2'x3' in size. After finishing the book, we played musical chairs which was adorable. I don't know what it is about little kids turning into football players and pushing each other for a seat, but I found it hysterical. Oooooh the faces they make.
By around 10, the rain finally stopped and we were able to take the kids out to smack the snot (or in this case, candy) out of a pinata.  For my 23rd birthday, there will be a pinata. I'm just saying.

After the fun and games at the school, we moved on to the church for the end of the school year program.  The kids sang, danced, acted, entertained. By far, the Second Grade drama was the funniest and adorable thing I think I've ever seen. I will try and get video footage uploaded to my blog at some point. After all the performances finished, it was time to say goodbye. Having my students come to me cryyyyyying as they said goodbye was by far one of the hardest moments of my life. I was honestly convinced that I would be able to hold off the tears until I at least got home. Yeah. Right.  To see all of my first grade girls with tears streaming down their face was so heartbreaking.  My emotions were drained after a time span of maybe 10 minutes, and my heart was wrenched from my chest (forgive the dramatic explanation, it was a dramatic moment in life).

But as I look back at that moment, not once did I ask myself if I was doing the right thing by leaving.  Not once did I say, "God are you sure?"  He had given me so much peace beforehand knowing that I was supposed to return home that I had no doubts during a huge emotional moment.  My dad even asked me later in the evening as we were chatting on Facebook if I was sure I wasn't supposed to stay. I told him that as sure as I was that I was supposed to come down here, I knew I needed to go home. Anytime I'm afraid at what will happen to these children while I'm gone, God whispers to me, "You call these 'your kids,' but they are really mine. And I won't let anything happen to them that I haven't planned. I hold them in the same palm of my hand that I hold you."