I am sitting at our little wooden table in front of three open windows. The air tonight is cool and crisp, and the concrete feels cold on my bare feet. I have the fan in front of one window sucking the fresh air into our otherwise dank basement apartment. The scent of our mulberry candle and my licorice spice tea make me feel warm and familiar – like a clean bathmat when you exit the shower. It is always the little things that make a place seem homey to me.
My mind has drifted back and forth today between my here home and my there home. Everything becomes a reminder of change – the last time to wash the shower curtain, last time to clean the shower, last time to clean the porch. Earl called us “short-timers” on Friday. “You only have a short time left,” he said, in a way that made me think he was used to the sound of it. By now he’s been here long enough to see the coming and the going.
Though we’ve been rounding up for the past month, tomorrow marks the official year anniversary of our coming to Honduras. One year of life lived in this cuenca, one year of life spent and gained. How fresh the arriving still seems to me – like honeysuckle wafting through the late spring air. We were stepping into an adventure and a calling from God. “Love God, and love your neighbor as yourself.” The excitement was dripping out our pores. It was a time of looking forward and anticipating – what did God have for us in this land?
Now the time of looking backwards has begun for me. A new stage has been reached of breathing deeply, stepping sure-footedly, slowly, heavily. Another change is coming and time no longer protects us from the reality of our decisions but begins hurling us towards them ever faster and faster.
Yet we are not blind, nor are we walking blindly. The Great Shepherd has kept us in his fold and we trust He will continue to do so.
