angels among us

It is Monday evening as I write this next blog. I am sitting on top of my bed with 2 loud, old-timey fans blowing, the curtains are a purple-brownish 1970’s look and are coming in and out b/c of the wind outside; Melanie and I just finished our pasta and oreos dinner. I am quickly learning to appreciate the ease in America--ease of hot water, ease of getting any type of food at your fingertips, ease of an air conditioner, ease of access to the internet, ease of clean, drinking water. Makes me realize all I take for granted. Ok, enough about feelings/emotions, as that is what my last blog detailed. It is now time for a story.

Yesterday--Sunday, July 13th. Melanie and I had made plans to meet Helen Lacey, a 77year old woman, originally from Canada via Kosciusko, MS and who moved here 38 years again with her late husband, Tom Lacey, a pastor, one who dabbled in medicine, and from the sounds of it, well-skilled in many other things. Since her husband passed away(in 1994), she has stayed here in Belize, specifically Cristo Ray village, a very small village just North(?) of Corozal, where I currently reside. She is in one word an angel. Everyone here knows her and welcome her with open arms and a warm smile; she walks into a room and people automatically say “Hola, Helen.” Little did Melanie and I know that when we emailed her back in the states (because of mutual Mississippi connections), that she would be such a well-known loving figure here in Belize.

So, back to yesterday. We had made plans to meet Ms. Lacey at 9:00am for a church service in Patchikan, a tiny village right near Cristo Ray. Getting there was easier said than done, however; we borrowed a truck from the other Sports Servants(soccer camps) folks and Melanie and I went flying down a dirt road with huge pot holes. Now, any pot hole you might be conjuring up most likely PALES in comparison with the pot holes we see here; they are so deep that a whole tire could fit in them and if you hit them just at the wrong spot, you could go flying. Seatbelts aren’t the law here, they are a life-saver, at every step. So, we made it to the Patchikan service in time to meet Ms.Lacey before the service began. One of the things Melanie had committed to was helping Ms. Lacey document the churches in this area, since she and her late husband helped to form a good number of them and to date, no one has filmed or documented much of the history. So, we attended the service(much like the Little Brown Church on Signal Mtn, TN or the tiny chapel outside of Highlands, NC; same old building, although the ones here aren’t nearly as nice) with a missionary from Arizona giving the sermon and Ishmael, the preacher here translating. Then Ms. Lacey stood up to ask the elders of the church to come forward so they could be taped answering some questions, mainly of what they remember about the early Patchikann church. It was a beautiful depiction of time-warn elders mixed with rich vigor of the youth. An oak tree surrounded by young blooming tulips.

Ms. Lacey invited us over to lunch, after the service, along with the three other girls here (from Texas and Nashville) for the soccer camps. Let me take a minute to describe Ms. Lacey. So many words pop in my head….first, she very much reminds me of Amah, my paternal grandmother. Her hands, her smell, her warm smile, her twinkle in her eye that winks at me every so often, her strong will, her wisdom, her vigor for life and most of all, her ability to keep going like she is human vitamin where those of us in our 20’s and 30’s have a hard time keeping up with her stamina. Her home is warm and welcoming and is very “grandmotherly“, complete with baskets on the walls, crocheted quotes and verses, old black and white pictures, a room full of old books, a mason jar of tums. She is the quintessential woman of honor, grace and dignity. I could quite easily sit at her feet for hours on end and listen to the rich, multitude of stories that she pours out like water from a facet. They are beautiful and real; colorful and brave. This is a woman of true love, someone who has dedicated her life to helping others but much more than that, truly loving others. She loves deeply, fully and creatively; and all with a smile on her soft, warm face. It is funny; having only been here for 5 days now, I have wondered how I will meet people(once the Sports Servants folks leave the end of July), if there will be any sort of community, will there be one friend, on whom I can lean and while I do not know all that God has in store, I do feel as if Ms. Lacey might be a key to that answer. Things do not come in the packages we envision, but that, thank goodness, is the way God works. He knew I’d be anxious and yes, a bit scared down here, and I believe He placed Ms. Lacey very distinctly in my path to teach me, smile at me, encourage me and to be my friend. Having not any living grandparents anymore but having had wonderful, rich memories with each of them, I feel like they are all with me here in Belize, in the form of a little lady originally from Canada, but who now calls Belize her home. Just when some fear and apprehension set in on Saturday, God sent me a little angel, a beautiful soul named Helen.

The past few nights, Melanie has asked me where I am on the scale of emotions(hopeful, fearful, anxious, sad, etc); Saturday, my hopeful level, I reported, was at a 5; I felt happy to be here but admittedly scared. Last night, at the end of a long day (we filmed two more tiny village churches and got back home at 10:00pm), I looked at Melanie and said, with a smile on my face, “my hopeful level might be at 8.5” and that was in large part to Ms. Lacey.



One last thing and that is about time. Melanie and I are both journalers and thrive off time to get away and write and very quickly, we discovered an incredibly peaceful spot on the patio of this nearby hotel. We have arrived around 10:00a.m. each morning so as not to disturb any of the meal times(since we are sitting in spots usually reserved for people dining). Thankfully, the workers just smile at us and let us go up there and write. This morning, as we were on our way there, I was talking to Melanie about my time, once all of the Sports Servants folks leave. I started the conversation with a bit of anxiousness in my voice, mixed with sadness and fear. (It’s amazing how quickly I have found my emotions to fluctuate!J) As I wrote, moments later, I began to realize that what I am actually asking is how am I going to fill my “time.” Time. That is something I often CRAVE at home, whether that is more time alone, more time with family, more time with friends, more time with God; time is precious, brief and hard to come by at home and here I am asking what am I going to do with my time once they all leave. Yes, there are things to be done, people to meet, stories to document for Mac and assistance to be given at the schools for Kimberly but in essence, my time will be my own. And I had to smile and remind myself that in 3 months from now, I will be back in Nashville and craving more time. Time is rare at home, here it is a-plenty; at home, you want more of it, here it is part of your everyday routine. God was reminding me, this morning, to not be concerned about my time, He was not only in charge of it but wants me to soak it up.

A few words that could more clearly describe life in Belize(or at least for me):

Whole milk and oreos
Cold showers that feel great
Sweat pouring down you all the time
Fans and no A/C
Stray, scraggly dogs
Skinny chickens
Pot holes the size of a large tire
Chinese restaurants(tons of them, randomly)
Beautiful people
Doo-doo brown water that is supposedly usually beautiful blue
Kids that, without reserve, hug you and give you a smile
Choco-bananas
Goats(or are they sheep)
Long, dirt roads
Time