Trust In God

If I have learned anything in the three and a half months I have been here, it has been that I am going to learn more than I ever expected during my time here at the Finca. I have already been challenged, pushed, and pulled in ways I never imagined possible. Yet, from each of these struggles, I seem to grow just a little bit. I can only wonder about the growth I will have gained at the end of my time here. I think it will be pretty incredible.

My most recent lesson here in Honduras has been a lesson of trust in God. Maybe it is because of my challenges of Spanish or that I still have so much to learn about how things work here, but I often am presented with situations that leave me thinking, “How is that ever going to happen?” Things such as directions, plans, or legal processes are usually, if not always, very vauge. So, when I was asked to plan and go on a vacation with one of our families of children along with Beth, a fellow first year volunteer, with very little direction, I was once again nervous and skeptical it would work out well.

We were to take Nolvia (13), Maria (7), Darwin (6), and Rosita (4) to Sonaguerra to meet their oldest sister Dalilia (15), who had been working in La Ceiba during the winter break from school. This seems like a simple task, but you must remember we did not have a cell phone, we had given a general time of when we would leave Trujillo, she had given us a round about time when she would leave La Ceiba, but nothing certain. Not so easy. Once we met, we were then going to get on another bus together and travel to small town about 30 minutes from Sonaguerra to stay with a father figure they had in their lives before the Finca. Oh, I should mention that we were originally going to stay with thier mother, Marlen, but we had been unable to reach her because apparently she had sold her cell phone. I think you might be getting the picture of why I was a little worried about how this was all going to come together.

After a pretty tricky 3 hour trip on a bumpy, dusty, dirt road (because the paved road has been out of commision for the past couple of months due to a bridge that washed out), we arrived in Sonaguerra with 4 tired, thirsty, and hungry children. We immediately went to the Catholic Church in the center of town where we were hopefully to meet Dalilia. Sadly, she wasn’t there. Nolvia and myself went to find some water and a snack for everyone else while Beth entertained the younger kids in the church. I was hoping and praying that Dalilia would be at the church by the time we returned, but she wasn’t.

There was a lady who was cleaning the church who so kindly walked over to us to inquire what we were doing. I can imagine that two white women with four Honduran children and a bunch of bags did look pretty peculiar. We explained we were waiting to meet their older sister there but we hadn’t yet found her. She said she hadn’t seen anyone by Dalilia’s description but that she would let us use her phone to try to find her or see if when she had left. As I was frantically calling anyone I thought might be able to help us, low and behold, Dalilia walked around the corner and into the church! This was my first lesson to not doubt God.

We then got on the bus and headed to Don Santos’ house, their father that we were going to be staying with. We arrived with no problems and the oldest girls got to work right away to make us dinner. As they were cooking, we settled in and got aquainted with our sorroundings. Don Santos lives in a very simple cinder block house with two very simple rooms just on the edge of an orange tree plantation. He does not have electricity or running water. Instead, he uses one kerosine candle, flashlights, and has a murky water well. It became very clear that the week was going to be simple. Nonetheless, we were there and safe.

After dinner, Dalilia told us that their 93 year old grandmother had been very sick, so we were going to all go visit her. We walked through the small town to the house where their grandmother was staying. It was a nice walk, and as we strolled through the town, Dalilia and Nolvia pointed out houses of relatives, their old school, the very small quaint church they had attended, and other points of intrest. I think they are related to about 75% of the town!

When we arrived, it was clear that their grandmother was indeed very sick. She was breathing very heavily and couldn’t make out any words. It was so heart warming to see Dalilia take the supportive lead of the family as she patiently sat with her grandmother and held her hand for nearly 30 minutes. I also couldn’t help but smile when Rosita, the youngest, walked into the room and so honestly asked, “Que pasó?” (What happened?) Beth is a nurse, so Dalilia asked her to take a look at her. Beth later told me, “Sara, she is very sick. It is just a matter of time.”

After our visit, we walked home as the town fell into nearly complete darkness due to the lack of electricity. When we got home we sat under a clear sky full of stars and joked and chatted before going to bed at 8pm. (Sidenote: When you do not have light, there really is not much to do other than sleep at night. During the week, our bedtime usually ranged from 7:30pm to 8:30pm, expect for New Year’s eve when we pushed ourselves to 10:30!) At this point, I thought our vacation was just going to be a simple vacation of visiting family and passing time. I was not quite right.

At 5am, the next morning, we were all awoken by a pounding on the front door. It was one of their cousins who had come to tell us that thier grandmother had passed away in the night. Immediately, everyone jumped out of bed. There were was a lot of commotion of what to do next. But, again, Dalilia took the lead and said, Nolvia and I will go the the house, Beth or I should go with them, and the other should stay behind to watch the younger kids. I decided again to trust what seemed to be right and followed her lead. I chose to stay behind and Beth went with them.

Beth told me that when they arrived at the house, the girls again acted so maturely and beautifully as they paid their respects but then began to help prepare the body for viewing. In Honduras, funerals are done in the home and the family prepares everything. Within hours, their one room, mud house was turned into a simple, yet delicately decorated funeral parlor. The girls used their own shampoo to clean the body, and Nolvia gave her rosary for her grandmother to hold. Then, for the next 24 hours, family members and friends gathered in the house to pray, cry, and join together in celebration of their mother/grandmother’s life.

It was a beautiful expereince to witness, but an exhausting and emotional one. My heart broke a little bit as I saw the girls sob at the thought of losing their grandmother and the younger kids cry in unison because that seemed like the appropriate thing to do. I tried to comfort them as much as I could by offering a hug or supporting pat on the back, but it seemed so insufficient.

After the 24 hour vigil, it is then customary to have a novena after the death of a loved one. So, in the days following, we spent our days sitting, spending time together, cooking, washing laundry, and then in the afternoons we went back to the house to pray together. Again, I was so amazed by the dedication, respect, and love that especially Dalilia and Nolvia showed continuously. It was so touching.

At one point I mentioned to Nolvia, “I am really glad we were able to come here when we did. I am happy you go to see your grandmother before she passed away.” She said, “Yes, I think she was waiting for us.” And, I couldn’t help but think that was the case. So, again, I noticed a trust in myself that though the vacation was very uncertain up until we arrived at Don Santos’ house I think God had it planned all along.

As if the week hadn’t provided enough excitment already, another big surprise came on New Year’s eve. Remember how we had originally wanted to get ahold of their mother, Marlen, but couldn’t? Well, as we were eating a traditional, Honduran New Year’s eve meal of chicken sandwiches and Coke, a neighbor came running over to the house shouting that Marlen was on their phone. (Often in Hondruas, people will give out the number of their neighbor as their own.) The house was filled with screams of excitment and immediately the girls ran over to talk to their mother. Apparently, Marlen did not sell her phone. It had been stolen from her. Someone from where we were staying, who knew her, called her to inform her to that the kids were in town. So, she decided last minute that she was going to come visit as well! How crazy is that? We found her without even really trying. Now, I know there are many explainatinos of how this all came together, but it seemed that a little bit more was at work here as well. Yet again, I was reminded that I had failed to trust in God that things would come together but they did anyway.

I could write so much more about some pretty amazing expereinces that happened throughout our week with this beautiful family. I could also tell you about more challenges and many doubts I had in both myself and what we were doing. And, maybe I am being a little bit dramatic about the week we shared. But after having some time to reflect on it, I think there were quite a few things that God wanted me to take from our week there. While there, I got to know all 5 of these amazing kids a little better, witnessed the existence of a deep family love despite family brokeness, expereinced my first Honduran funeral, gained an appreciation for the hard work it is to be a parent, and, for the first time, thought of the Finca as my home. Ultimately, though, I was reminded that I should not lose trust in God’s daily plan for us. There are so many times when life is so uncertain and unclear, yet there is a plan. We just have to recognize that we aren’t always in control of it.