back in Nashville

It feels strange to be writing my next entry in Nashville--sitting at Frothy Monkey, in perfect fall temperatures and feeling clean!:) A mere 8 days ago, I was packing, running to town once more, sweating profusely and eating my last Belizean rum raisin ice cream cone. I arrived in Nashville Sunday morning, after spending the night at the Airport Holiday Inn in Houston. As our plane was nearing Houston, I looked down and saw the BIG houses, 2-3 cars in each driveway and already I felt a little overwhelmed. Questions started popping in my mind-why do we have so much in America and yet, still want more? Why can't we ever feel satisfied? Why is it that we have so much, material wise, yet still don't feel fulfilled but yet a place like Belize has so very little, material wise, and yet, they seem to feel very fulfilled. 

I got to my hotel room and was again feeling overwhelmed at the large hotel room, the CLEAN bed, the full screen tv, internet access--everything we are all so used to but it's just a little too much for me to take in. I couldn't even remember how to use my cell phone--find my contacts and dial someone; I had to re-train myself. 

I land in Nashville the next morning, where Melanie and Libby are waiting, with silly string in hand, ready to spray me down--they sprayed me down alright-my entire body and some even managed to get in my throat so the next thing I know, I am choking silly string while also tearful seeing them greet me with such energy and love. We get to Melanie's car and they have it decorated, high school style, complete with shoe polished messages(I want to post a picture but my computer--well it has a virus--I did not come home with malaria but my computer did...so pictures will be posted in due time). I felt very loved. I saw several other close friends throughout the day and by that night, I felt very full and loved. Monday was, well-there is no other way to put it but very full--but not in the warm , tingly loving feeling that I was feeling on Sunday--I mean, literally, full, as in my schedule. By bible study that night, I walked in and felt like crying or going to sleep. I had had a day that was very reminiscent of my life in Nashville before I left--I ran from one obligation to another with hardly any time in between. Completely opposite of my life in Belize where I did not run from thing to thing--but instead slow-danced from journal writing to help out in the school to my hammock to cooking dinner; hardly a stressful lifestyle and hardly a chicken with my head cut off pace. Monday was my first full day back in America and by the end of the day, I knew I couldn't continue to have days like that or I might have to move to Belize for good! :) I think my day brings the question to mind, though--something I know I've blogged about before and something that has been ever-present on my mind this week--can you have a slower paced life here in America; can you still see friends, be on time to meetings, go to doctor's appointments, get your haircut, find time to exercise, celebrate birthdays--all things we want and need to do, but ALSO have time to be still-to really sit and just be by ourselves, sit at God's feet and just BE? I'd like the answer to that question be a resounding YES, but then I know reality--I know that the reality of our American lifestyles(and this is a very general statement--if you have perfected how to move at a slower pace in the society we live in, please share) is busy, full, blackberry checking, rarely sit still, type lifestyle. 

Sunday's sermon(which it sure was nice to listen to an english sermon!) was about how when you choose to be in relationships(no matter the type--dating, friendships, parents, etc), life gets messy. But in the messiness is beauty because you are choosing to journey through life helping to carry each other's burdens, leaning on each other and realizing that we weren't made to go through life alone. Some may enjoy being alone and more power to them, but I think I was put on this earth to be with people. Don't get me wrong--I do love being alone and sitting with the Lord and with my journal, but I also love being with friends and family--heck, all of you are what made me leave Belize early; I needed to see all of you! This week, I have been a listening ear to several friends who have had small disagreements or miscommunications with other friends; all normal things and I'll be honest--my very first reaction was --goodness I didn't have to deal with any of this while in Belize and then my very next thought, especially in light of Sunday's sermon, was --Presh, you didn't have to deal with this--no, but you didn't GET to deal with this--meaning, the sermon was right--life is about choosing to get into relationship with people and part of that is that it will get messy. Life is not meant to be always be peaches and cream; chocolate sundaes every day of the week(although that sounds good right about now)--it is messy and the redemptive part of messiness is that it does become beautiful. Even the most challenging happenings in relationships eventually(and sometimes it may take years to see the sunset through the clouds) become beautiful and make the relationship, in some way, more rich and truthful. So, the small ripples I was privy to this week amongst friends, in truth, make me smile--not to see friends hurt by another(heaven's no) but because it is in the hurt, that truth is revealed and we can become truly vulnerable wtih each other. And isn't that we all want--to be better known and the the only way to be truly known is if we open up. So, I challenge all of us to open up, be honest and celebrate the messiness of relationships. Without them, life would be very lonely. 

By the way, now that I'm back, I feel a little funny writing a play by play(not that you want that) of friends I saw etc because I don't want to make one friend feel strange about being mentioned and not another friend(ok, I know you have other things about which to be concerned and maybe that is me being hyper-sensitive. )Anyway, I have debated whether or not to continue with this blog because, in truth, this was intended to be a written account of my journey in Belize. I felt (and feel) a little funny about continuing it when in actuality, my journey has come to an end and I am back in Nashville. I was dead set on ending it when I got back to the states, but I have had several of you ask me if I will keep writing, and let me tell you that is humbling to hear--not only to realize that you have been reading my blog and keeping up with me,  but that you actually enjoy reading what has been on my mind. And some of you may be blowing smoke up my skirt(isn't that how the saying goes?) but I appreciate your interest. So--having said all of that, I may continue to write(at least, for a bit) but I will stop sending you reminder emails to visit my blog; you come here if you want to, otherwise, you never have to read about my life anymore:) 

It is good to be back--and although I look around and think we all have too much stuff and think that we overindulge in way too much--and even though we are in a financial crisis, have a gas shortage and the debate is all-consuming, I do love America and love being back--but the truth is, what gets me going by being back is seeing all of you, my friends and family. You make my life so full and while I have always cared for each one of you, it took me getting away to really realize just how blessed I am to have each of you in my life. Thank you for how you love me so differently and so beautifully. Thank you. It is good to be back.

last blog from Belize...

Friday, September 19-my last full day in Belize. Strange. Surreal. Bittersweet. Before I left for Belize, a good friend of mine encouraged me to set aside a separate journal to write about my goals/thoughts/aspirations/hopes/desires for Belize so I got a small journal at Davis Kidd and went out to one of my favorite quiet retreats in Nashville (if I told you, you all might want to go, so I am keeping it to myself:) call me selfish!) and wrote pages and pages about Belize—my hopes, desires, anticipations, thoughts, etc. I brought that journal down here with me but for the past 2 ½ months, I have put it aside in a drawer and told myself that I would not read it until my last day in Belize. So, today was to be the day I would read it. I got to Tony’s and before opening up the pages of that journal, I decided to journal about how I was feeling today, on my last day, and what I would always want to remember about this time in Belize, this season of my life. I first wrote about time (something I have blogged about a few times) and how I will always look back on this period of my life and remember, quite clearly, how perfectly laid out before me was the time to spend with God. “Be still and know that I am God” is a verse I have heard many a time but it wasn’t until I truly sat still that I caught a glimpse of how God calls us to be. When we allow ourselves to be still, truly still, God shows up in ways we had not known and in ways we could not have seen had we continued with our busy lives. We so often try to be Martha, when God is calling us to be Mary (I feel like I am preaching a sermon giving you a verse to look up but this one is worth reading: Luke 10:38-42). Basically, Martha is the one who is running around “distracted by all the preparations” while Mary sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what He said. How many times have I run around busying myself with preparations and duties and schedules when all the Lord is calling me to do is SIT at His feet and rest. But doesn’t our society tell us that is better to be the Martha? Yes, and that is why it usually harder and more challenging to choose to sit and listen. When I first got to Belize, I admit that I did feel somewhat guilty sitting and journaling or lying in the hammock and reading and now, looking back, that is exactly what I needed to have done, exactly as God intended. Now, the question is can I be a Mary back in Nashville—a Mary in a Martha world (for those that have not read that book, another on the Presh book club list)? Is it humanly possible? No, b/c life will always have distractions and obligations and schedules to attend to—but with God’s help, we can learn to be Mary, to sit at His feet and rest.


The next thing I wrote about this morning, as I reflected back over my time in Belize, was about how God met me, so clearly, each and every morning to teach me new parts of Him and new parts of myself and in a word, I was (and am) taken aback at how simply beautiful life is. He opened my eyes to seeing life as a gift and it is ours to open and rejoice in each and every day; he opened my heart to feel like I’ve never felt before; and He is helping to me to realize that this freedom, this sense of clarity, this oozing peace is mine to have, forever, even after leaving Belize, even after leaving this season. As I wrote, I began to feel truly overwhelmed at how much God loves me—and loves you—and we don’t have to be some perfect being who is always good, always says the right things—all He is asking us to do is to open up our hearts to how much He loves us and it is just overwhelming, really (but in SUCH a good way!) I journaled about how I never want to stop feeling, never want to become numb to feeling—always want to feel this ALIVE and full of JOY. I know there will be times of despair, sadness, isolation—and all the other negative or hard feelings out there—but I know, in my heart of hearts, that God is there for me, holding my hand through each of those emotions, each of those feelings and each of those longings.

After journaling about what I was feeling and what I would always remember about my time here, I decided it was time to open up the other journal, the one I had written only days before leaving for Belize. The first thing I wrote about as a goal/thought was that I didn’t want my life in Belize to look like my life in Nashville, where I run from obligation to obligation. I laughed when I read that b/c God knew me so well that he had to bring me to a place like Belize, where I couldn’t run from commitment to commitment; where I would be in my apartment by 6:00pm every night and not go out again until morning. Ok, well, that was taken care of; God answered that prayer! The next thing I wrote about was time and how I wanted my time in Belize to be all about God and for God—in my relationships, the people I meet, how I spend my time and I wanted, more than anything, for my time to be spent how God wanted me to spend it and that it be filled with Him, every day. I longed (I wrote) to feel His presence like I never had before—craved to sit at His feet and just listen. Longed to feel His love, feel His grace, and feel His beauty around me like arms. I read this and huge alligator tears filled my eyes just so perfectly timed with a huge breeze coming across my face (one might say it was a hug from God). Why? B/c that was what I was just writing about this morning; that was exactly what I have been feeling during my time in Belize. His love has never been more real to me than it has down here; His beauty daily surrounds me and He has allowed me to sit at His feet for hours on end and He has met me there, every time. God is definitely in the details. He knew what was so much on my heart before I left and He carved out this time, oh so perfectly, to not only answer those goals and aspirations, but so beautifully surpass (as only God can) all hopes and thoughts about this time. You may (or may not) remember my first blog once I got here; it was about me picturing God and some angels giving me a huge box and they waited in the wings as I opened it—and inside were a thousand hugs and well-wishes and words of encouragement from all of you, my friends and family—I had never felt so surrounded by love as I had before I left. This morning, I thought about that image that I had 2 ½ months ago—and thought about how I feel now. I feel now that I am going home with that same box—filled with the same hugs, words of encouragement, emails of comfort, smiles—but what is also inside is a gift from God. What he has placed in the box are a million notes, each one telling me ways He loves me, tender reminders of how He met me, soft breezes to bring me back to Belize, warm embraces of beauty, little hugs---it is an endless package of packages—I could open one every day for the rest of my life and still have more. That is how God’s love is---never-ending, never-ceasing and never-stopping. Although God doesn’t give us an actual package to open, He does give us eyes to see, ears to hear, hearts to love and embrace the beauty that surrounds us, the magnificent serenity that enfolds us and the sweet shoulders to lean on. He is always present and never will He forsake us.

It is hard to know how to wrap up this blog, my final one in Belize (although I may have to write about how my transition back to Nashville was:). I guess the main emotions (or one is an action) I would say that is so heavy on my heart is JOY and ALIVE. I feel so full of joy, full of His love, full of happiness, full of joyful tender moments that make me smile and I am thankful to be alive. I know not what the future holds for me but I do know that God had me come to Belize for a multitude of reasons, but the main one was so that I would feel—and truly feel—this alive and this full of joy. All of our lives are different—we all have different struggles, different pains, different moments of happiness---but it is my prayer for EACH of you that you can all feel ALIVE and full of JOY because life is meant to be enjoyed, not dreaded. So, as I feel the soft breezes of Belize one last time, I pray for each of you and your precious hearts that you can sit still and feel God’s arms around you and know, oh so tenderly, that He loves you and cares for you more than your heart can even imagine.

growing with God's help

This week, my last week here in Belize, has started with a lot of rain in the sky but a lot of sunshine on faces. Yesterday, I was at Cornerstone helping out some more in the IT classes. When I told the boys that Wednesday was my last day, one of them looked at me and said “Presh-why do you have to go?” and that is what several of the kids have asked me(including Mariela) when I tell them I am leaving this weekend. How do you tell a 14 year old that it’s because you just feel ready; it’s just time to see your friends and family; it’s time to go home—well, that is what I said, pretty much. I told them that I have loved every second of my time in Belize but it is time to go home, but I hope to be back. I am no idiot, though, the guys in IT class were not asking why I have to go b/c I am some great teacher who has taught them a great deal about excel or powerpoint, no, they like me b/c when they are done with their work, I’ve let them study for a quiz they might have next period or occasionally I have let them get on facebook(don’t tell—I don’t let them get on for long); and have just had fun getting to know them.

Today, I was to go to Orange Walk(the school where Kimberly and I cleaned out the room with the rat) to spend the day with Ruth(the principal I have blogged about before) and offer up any help to her. It takes about an hour to get to Orange Walk from Corozal so I arrive around 10:00 and upon getting there, Ruth has a few side jobs for me to do-count Belizean flags(their big Independence Day Celebration is this Friday), type up some things for her, help the teachers set up email accounts, etc. By lunch time, I was thinking to myself-I hope I am being a help here; I don’t want Ruth to think that I am not useful. But, what I was reminded of today(thanks God) was that we don’t always have to be DOING something to be useful in the standards we think of useful, sometimes God has us in places for entirely different purposes. Let me back up and tell you that last Friday, I had a small panic after talking to Rosita, the lady that owns the hotel where I have been staying; she informed me that since I was leaving early(on the 20th of September as opposed to the 9th of October), I’d have to start paying a nightly rate which, upon hearing that, panic sent through me b/c a nightly rate was JUST too much, ridiculous in many ways. She told me all of this when I was waiting for the bus on Friday to go to Orange Walk. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind—I can’t afford to stay here another week; I’ll have to fly out tomorrow; I need to call Ruth and tell her I won’t be coming in today; I need to pack and say goodbye…AAHHH!! You know the feeling—when you feel like your world is closing in and your mind can’t keep up with the racetrack it’s on and you can’t even concentrate on what to do first. Well, the first thing I did do was call Ruth to tell her I wouldn’t be coming in, except when I heard her voice and started talking , I started crying. We’re talking full-on bawling. Hearing her gentle voice at the other end of the line asking me what was wrong and telling me it’s going to be work out in her sweet motherly voice broke me down and tears started flowing. She asked me what city I needed to fly through and I said Houston and her response was “You can’t—there is a hurricane—you can’t get to Houston. You need to stay put” We hung up and I immediately felt relieved; relieved that I wouldn’t be able to fly(it was going to be just too rushed to leave in 12 hours!!) which meant I was supposed to be here, even for a few more days. I decided that I needed to talk to Rosita and after about 30 minutes, she agreed to let me stay another week for a discounted price(she told me I was like a daughter to her and I told her I felt like a daughter whose mother had cheated her; she got the picture.) Ok,so back to Ruth—today, after doing the few side jobs for her, she sat down and looked at me and said “Do you realize that your phone call was exactly what I needed to hear and God used you to tell me to stay” and I looked at her a bit confused—she was the one who encouraged me on Friday and how had God used me? She proceeded to tell me that her parents live in Houston and all morning, as news came in about Hurricane Ike preparing to hit Houston, fear set in and she stubbornly kept telling her husband that she needed to get there and he kept telling her that Houston’s airport was shut down and there was NO way to get there. So, when I called wanting, too, to get to Houston and when she responded telling me “you can’t get to Houston” a peace fell over her b/c she knew that the words she was telling me was God also telling her—you can’t get to Houston, stay put!

After school today, Ruth and her family had to drive to Chetumal(Mexico)-just past Corozal, so they drove me home. Ruth and I talked the entire drive(which felt like 5 minutes) about God’s goodness in our lives. She told me that she meets a good number of people who come to Belize from the states, some coming for a short time and some for a long time but it is rare, she said, to meet people with whom she feels a certain connection. She told me that she has watched me with the teachers and with the kids and she feels like I truly get the Belizean culture; she said “There are two kinds of people in this world—those who have overflowing joy coming out of them and then those that are negative, who are hard to be around—you are the first and it is evident that God is in your heart and in your life” This was a compliment I didn’t know how to take; here was someone who is, to me, the epitome of joyful and through whom God’s love oozes out of every pore. And I am not putting all of this in my blog to share a compliment with you(I debated whether to put this in here or not), but instead to tell you we ALL have a choice each day—to be filled with JOY or to be filled with ROY(ok what is roy—well, just for rhyming purposes, we can see roy as the antithesis of joy, the glass half-empty type person; the Debbie downer, except I just donned him Roy.) John Eldredge says we have to “be intentional about finding joy”; we can’t expect joy to just slap us in the face each morning, we have to be active in strapping it on, wearing it and carrying it with us throughout our day. The joy that Ruth saw in me today was not my doings at all, b/c if it were up to us , it would be easy to be a roy; but God can fill us with JOY and allow us to hold onto life in such new and amazing ways IF we let him. May we all choose JOY not ROY today(and if your name is actually roy, I hope I haven't offended you--you could be the most joyful person out there!)

Ruth told me that when she first met me(my first week in Belize) I was like a small bloom and now, she sees me as a flower ready to POP; ready to bloom just where God wants me to-ready to go back home and live. The actual background of my blog site has, as you will notice, flowers. When I was first choosing my background(and there are about 10,000 from which to choose) last spring, I spent a while going through all of the backgrounds—what symbol or word or color or logo would express or characterize my adventures in Belize? After thinking about it—I knew it had to be a flower. I felt that the Lord was moving and growing things in me and around me. I felt like my friendships were far from stagnant; they were alive with God and His grace; I felt Him moving in my desires-desires to leave my job and move to Belize. I kept telling close friends—I can’t stop feeling; God is allowing me to FEEL so much—of His amazing grace, of His beauty, of His goodness, of His purpose. I was overwhelmed and overshowered with his movement in my life. So, I chose a flower because I felt God growing something inside of me—a seed had been planted and I was going to Belize to be a part of its growth; His love is like sunshine and I, the flower, needed Him to help me keep growing. So, today, when Ruth told me that she sees me as a flower ready to bloom, ready to go back home and live—I teared up. That analogy that she used, a simple one in theory, was exactly the analogy I needed to hear, the reassurance that it is time to go back home; it is time to go finish growing(and never stop). :)

monkeys, cows and roosters, oh my!

Now that I have made a decision to leave Belize next Saturday, my next step has been telling my friends here in Belize. On Saturday, I met Mrs. Lacey for a farewell lunch (at the local Chinese restaurant, of course) where we both got a little sentimental about how glad God had had our paths cross. She asked me what one of my favorite memories of Belize would be and I said “meeting you and Romalda and my time with God.” !). Saturday night, Romalda and her family had me over for a farewell dinner where they served escabeche, a very traditional Belizean meal, typically served at weddings and other special occasions. It is an onion soup with chicken and homemade corn tortillas (YUMAfter dinner, we drove to town, picked up a ½ gallon of ice cream and went to the sea and had a little ice cream dessert under the full moon. There was a perfect breeze and the stars were amazing; my last Saturday night in Belize could not have been better.

This morning, I met Mariela at church in San Narcisco. Mariela is a 14 year old that I’ve gotten to know at Cornerstone. The very first day I met her(when Libby was here), we had her in a computer class and as I was going around making sure no one had any questions, I saw her work on the screen and commented that she was doing a good job…and then, the next time I walked back, only minutes later, everything that had been on her screen had been erased, so I said “what happened—I thought you had written stuff already-what happened?” to which she responded “I am a little crazy” with a huge smile on her face. Like a small child who mimics things you say, I had remembered that earlier in the class, I patted her on the head and said “Hi there” and she responded with a giggle and I looked at her and said “Sorry—I guess I am hyper and in a crazy mood.” So, it shocked me very little that she was now telling me that she was a little crazy. Instantly, I liked this girl and since that first day, she has been my friend to meet me on the picnic tables for lunch(or in a classroom if the picnic tables are filled with older kids---the intimidation factor, don’t you remember?) and make me feel so welcome at school. She invited me to meet her for church last week in her village of San Narcisco and afterwards, at her grandparents’ house for lunch. I was welcomed with sweet, open arms by her grandparents, and cousins and uncles and aunts—she has quite a big family and many of them gather together on Sundays to help cook, visit, eat together, wash, etc. Her grandfather had 9 sisters and 3 brothers and they all, plus their children and their children, all live in the same village; something I just can’t fathom. So, when I told them this week that I am leaving Belize early to spend time with my family, they probably think it a bit odd b/c don’t I see them every day like they do?

Mariela asked me last week at school if I could come back to her grandparents’ house for lunch after church and I gladly accepted the invitation. Although I have been to a few Belizean homes during the past 2 months here, their home and really, the whole experience there is really like no other. I’ll try to explain more in the events of today. After church today, Mariela and I walk to her grandparents’ house and once again, little kids are spilling out everywhere, from every corner of the kitchen. Oh let me explain several of the kitchens I have seen in Belize-they are not like our kitchens that are actually IN the house; they typically are built separated from the house, usually in a thatched shed or in Mariela’s grandparents’ case, a tin roof shed. It is a kitchen where there are one (or two) wood-burning stoves which constantly have something on them. In the case of Mariela’s grandparents, there were three old baby cribs in the kitchen, obviously now used for storage—pots, pans, Rubbermaid containers, pitchers, cups—they were all stored in the cribs. Heck, why not?

The women of the house were cooking—one might be kneading dough, one might be in the back with a machete cutting up coconuts (don’t worry, I got a picture of that), one might be standing over the hot stove stirring a pot, one might be feeding a child running around—they literally never stop and only once did I see one of the women in the past two Sundays actually stop to SIT DOWN to eat. So, today, they served a kind of soup called Chamoli, another traditional Belizean soup (it’s funny to me that they love soup here—I mean call me crazy, but it is 95 degrees and they love eating hot soup!!) made with chili peppers, rice, chicken and again, homemade tortillas but this time flour tortillas which were SO much better than store-bought. After lunch, one of Mariela’s uncles offered to take us to the lagoon on the boat. Mariela’s eyes lit up---in her 14 years, she had never been on a boat or to the lagoon, in her own village. On our ride there, she thanked me b/c the only reason she was getting to go, she said, was b/c of me—to which I responded “No—I bet they’d take you” and she assured me that they come all the time, but usually just the men of the family, rarely the women. With tears in her eyes, she looked at me, as we were both squeezed in the back of this pick up, “Presh, I am glad I met you. Thank you.” I was speechless—she was glad she met ME---I hadn’t done anything-she was the one who invited me to meet her for lunch at school, she was the one who invited me into her home—if only she knew that I, someone twice her age, was more touched by her friendship than she knew. So, we get in the boat—and the best way I can describe this boat is to say it looked like one used centuries ago, maybe even in Biblical times. An old-rickety boat and I was just praying that it would get us across, or wherever our driver (her uncle’s friend) was taking us. I was also praying that the thunderstorm that was brewing up ahead would wait till AFTER we got out the boat and not while we were in the middle of the lagoon. Suffice it to say, Mariela and I both learned that we had a bit of fear in us—fear of tipping, fear of the rain coming but as soon as we sat down, the motor started and we glided so easily out into the water, we both looked at each other with laughter in our voices and said “this is FUN!” and it was. Until a few minutes later, she said in Spanish to our boat driver something about an alligator and I look at her with HUGE eyes, “Did you say alligator” and she said, “Yes, there are supposedly alligators in here but he said they don’t come out until night.” Ok-I can do this, I can do this, and I can do this! We made it back to shore, after circling the lagoon , seeing no alligators(thank goodness!!) and thanking our driver several times with “Thank you “ and “Gracias”. We climb back in the pick up and Mariela looks at me and says “I’ll never forget this day” and neither will I.

When we get back to her grandparents’ house, her grandmother is running around the house trying to catch one of her chickens and Mariela looks at me and says “She is trying to kill it—once she catches it, she’ll swing it around by it’s neck and kill it.” I must have looked like I’d seen a ghost b/c she started laughing. These chickens, the ones she was going to kill (just like saying—my grandmother is going to play bridge—with the same kind of tone); they had been running around all morning, as we ate lunch. In the states, you might have dogs or cats sit at your feet during mealtime; here, there were chickens and roosters cock-a-doodle-doing in the kitchen as we ate. Strange-yea, just a little! And one more “odd” (to us) thing—Mariela and I, after lunch, decided to walk around the block. [I think the poor 14 year old wanted to get out and talk about things and I was flattered she wanted to share with me about her boyfriend and the fact that he hadn’t called; her alcoholic father; her ridiculous idea that she calls herself fat---all things on her 14 year old mind and I was glad to be there to listen.] So, during our walk, I look over and in someone’s yard, tied to a tree on a long rope is a monkey and I said “Is that someone’s pet” and she said, “Yes—and so is that” and on my right, in someone else’s yard was a cow, also tied on a long rope, connected to a tree. These are all things—the killing of the chicken, the monkey, the cow—these are all things that you just don’t see in the states and which make life here SO unique!

Before catching my bus back to Corozal, her grandmother gave me a huge, warm hug and asked me to wait as she had something for me. She went inside and with a HUGE smile on her face, she gave me this container (actually, a dried pumpkin) where they store warm tortillas. I had commented on it last Sunday and said it was so neat (b/c it is like a small oven, keeping the tortillas warm for over an hour). She was so proud to give me the tortilla warmer and I was so proud to accept it. She doesn’t have to know that our store bought Kroger tortillas not only won’t fit in the small hole at the top but even more than that, she would be appalled at the taste of our U.S. tortillas, quite dry and flavorless compared to the ones here. She doesn’t ever have to know any of that, b/c I accepted my gift with a smile on my face, hugging them all several times as I ran to catch my bus. My last week in Belize has already started with lots of hugs and warm tingly feelings inside, reminding me at every turn how much I have loved my home here in Belize.

I'm coming home!!

I have some news that may come as a surprise to some of you (even to me, to a point)…I am coming home earlier than originally planned. Why, you might be asking and I’ll explain part of it here. Back in January, when God first put a stirring in my heart to leave my job and do something completely different, he also put a strong stir to spend more time with my family. The first I pursued wholeheartedly but the latter, I somehow pushed to the wayside, and that was not because of lack of desire, it’s just that quitting my job and moving to Belize engulfed me. I see my sisters and their kids(my parents, I am able to see more because of their proximity to Nashville) usually about twice a year(three times if I am lucky) and when I really stop and think about that, I am embarrassed by that. Twice a year, yet I will travel miles to the beach to spend time with friends or get on a plane to see another friend, but yet my sisters, those who have known me the longest, I see only a few times a year. And at times I stop and think that I spend more time with my friends’ kids in Nashville than I do with my own niece and nephews. All that to say, that desire that God placed on my heart nine months ago has not left; I tended to one of them(doing something different and moving to Belize), but I still need to get to the other one. It has been on my heart, beneath the surface, the whole time I’ve been in Belize but it wasn’t until recently that I felt a strong, unquestionable pull. I started praying—Lord, if I am supposed to leave Belize earlier than I had planned; if I am to go spend time with my family, I will do it but I only want to if it is your will. Wednesday was a Belizean holiday (which meant no school and no IT teacher for Presh) which was perfect timing for me to spend some time praying and thinking this through; my poor journal endured hours of writing—it’s funny, I’ve often wondered how others “hear” God’s voice—is it through a feeling of peace knowing you are on the right track; is it a verse someone reads that reassures them that that is the way to go, is it the absence of confusion? Wednesday, I wrestled with all of that; wanting to make certain that I was hearing a GO or STAY from God instead of my own emotions and finally that afternoon, I felt a calm and quiet whisper, a soft simple breeze letting me know that it was time, time to go home. It wasn’t some loud, huge voice saying “Presh, it is time to leave Belize and go home” but instead an overriding feeling of peace and comfort and warmth and joy—all the things that home is to me. [I should have known—God doesn’t come in obnoxious loud ways but in gentle, warm ways] Yesterday’s psalm made me smile as it read “Where morning dawns and evening fades, you call forth songs of joy.” (Psalm 65:8). Wednesday night, before falling asleep, I prayed that I would awake knowing fully that leaving was what I was supposed to do (or if staying was now what should happen, I would know it). Part of what I wrote on Wednesday was about joy—what brings me joy and when does my heart literally feels joy and when I am with my family and friends—those I love, I wrote, I FEEL joy. So, yesterday’s verse read where morning dawns, you call forth songs of JOY. Interpret that however you wish---but what I read was that when morning dawns, you call forth JOY—and JOY is going home! I am scheduled to come home now next Sunday, September 21, a mere 3 weeks before I was supposed to come home and some of you may be wondering why not just stay the rest of the time, but it’s not a matter of could I do it, because know I could but it’s a matter of it is time…. it’s time now to come home.

It’s strange-strange to think that I’ll be leaving the soft breezes (which are literally few and far between these days as the heat has engulfed Belize!), the water daily mesmerizing my mind, the freedom to be still and to rest, the endless lapses of time with no boundaries—but I also feel such peace knowing that all I have encountered and felt and realized here is not just here, in Belize, but within me. I am leaving this place, Belize, but the hugs that God gave me here, I am taking home and the wonderment and amazement of who He is, I am also taking home. The beauty He had me unfold and the pure joy of feeling His love that is all going home with me. God’s love knows no boundaries and I am eased into the serenity in knowing that the God that embraced me here is the same God that will carry me home, back to Nashville, back to the States, back to my family, to each of you. There is no doubt in my mind that this season of my life was amazing (that word seems so cliché but I will use it) and one I will often and forever reflect on, but I also know that it doesn’t have to end here in Belize-God is calling me to always embrace life with the same freedom, purity and calming way; here and back home. Therein lies true serenity.

A book I picked up this week in between journal writing is The Shack(www.theshackbook.com) Several of you had recommended it to me before I left and for those that have not read it, it is a must read (the kids at school are writing book reports right now and at times I feel as if my blogs turn into book reports or my top recommendations—or maybe my blogs are a book report of my life in Belize). ANYWAY, it is an amazing book, bringing God to life in a poetic but amazingly real way—the author even uses the term ‘hug from God’ to which I responded, upon reading that, “you are speakin’ my language!!!” So, the part that I want to quote here is when God (or Papa as He is called in the book) says, “I don’t just want a piece of you and a piece of your life. Even if you were able, which you are not, to give me the biggest piece, that is not what I want. I want all of you and all of every part of you and your day…I don’t want to be first among a list of values; I want to be at the center of everything. When I live in you, then together we can live through everything that happens in you…everything in your life is connected to me but moves with the wind, in and out and back and forth, in an incredible dance of being.” Wow—that is it! God doesn’t want us when we are at our best, or when something has gone wrong and we’ve no where else to turn; nor does he want us to give Him just a piece of ourselves—the piece we think we need mending or the piece that is easy to share—no, God wants ALL of us and not in some jail cell way that once we’ve given Him our all, we are locked in and forever have to follow some stupid rules, with only one phone call to make. No—the joy of God is the utter and perfect freedom His love gives us and it is, as the author says, an incredible dance of being. So, God here in Belize is the same God at home –the same one who wants me to cry to Him, laugh with Him and invite Him along on my journey of life, because goodness knows I can use all the help I can get!

Although my Belizean days are numbered now, that doesn’t mean I will stop writing—if the past few days of writing in my journal are any reflection, I may write a book in my last week--so there will probably be a few more blog entries, for those that wish to read. I have a feeling that these last few days will be filled with MUCH feeling, much emotion, and many moments of reflection and yes, many more hugs from God.

The past two weeks...

It has been 2 weeks since my last blog and I will do my best to summarize the events of the last two weeks. The very day my dad left, Mac and Kimberly arrived and the next 6 days were very different than what I had been experiencing; I felt, in essence, like a chicken with my head cut off; a pace I was accustomed to in Nashville, but far from what I had been experiencing in Belize. Mac is the founder and leader of the Belize Project(the organization with which I am affiliated here) and Kimberly owns a tutoring and training center in Nashville, and has recently made a 3 year commitment to help train and assist the schools in Belize, under the umbrella of the Belize Project. So, Kimberly and Mac arrived , ready to hit the ground running and we spent the entire week at two schools, one in Orange Walk(the name of a city here) and the other in Belize City, although I spent more of my time in Orange Walk. Kimberly and I both quickly realized that no matter how much(or little) you plan, God may have other plans entirely. We arrived at Orange Walk thinking that she was going to spend the majority of her time training the teachers and helping them prepare for the first week of school, but we quickly learned, upon arrival, that what was needed more than anything was serving the teachers and principal in ways that unfolded before our eyes. Each of the teachers had to create a plan for the year, documenting all they hoped to achieve in their classrooms which sounds great, in theory, but what we learned was that not only are they not fast or proficient typers, very few of them have their own computers so they would have had to spend their time and money in internet cafes in town. Typing is something with which we could easily assist so we set up a little workshop, if you will, with Kimberly’s computer and printer and we had a steady stream of teachers coming in, giving us documents upon documents to type up and print. A simple task on our part produced smiles that warmed our hearts; they were appreciative of something we could never have planned but what they needed more than they could even say. Likewise, with the principal, Ruth Ku. First of all, she is truly one of the most amazing women of faith I have ever met; she exudes trust, hope and a confidence in the Lord that I only hope to have. When she realized that she had run out of staples, she began to pray; everything Ruth does involves praying and going to the Lord; it made me think of all the hundreds of times throughout my day that I try to solve something or fix something, failing to go first to God. Ruth is the type woman with whom I could sit for hours, just watching, listening and learning. So, it was my utmost pleasure when she asked if I could do a variety of odds and ends jobs for her, from cleaning out the new teacher’s lounge, to checking each classroom making sure everything was in its place to giving her a backrub when she looked frazzled(ok she didn’t actually ask me to give her a backrub, but she was rubbing it and I could tell she needed some TLC, so I went behind her desk and started massaging). The hours went quickly and I found myself truly loving not only being around the energy this school carries, but honored to be a part of a school that a year ago, the community didn’t think would make it(there is more to this story that is confidential but suffice it to say that Ruth and her teachers have overcome what some may have called impossible and ALL with a smile on their faces and a trust in the Lord that was impacting to see).

On our last day at Orange Walk, Kimberly and I found ourselves opening up a closet, filled with OLD computers, OLD papers and just plain OLD(think your grandparents basement: the smell, the dust, the unknowns hidden beneath bins). Had it not been for Ruth’s husband who offered to help us clean it out, I’ll admit (ashamedly so) that we would have closed the door and moved on to another task. But once Mario said he would climb up the shelves to get the computers down, we grabbed our brooms and started at it. Have you ever cleaned something that was SO incredibly dirty that you felt the dirt and dust in your fingernails and in your scalp? I felt like I was bathing in bubbles of dust, but it was so rewarding knowing that this room, that hadn’t been touched in 10 plus years was now going to be able to be used for storage for the school , something they desperately needed. This school does not have a plush, clean room, like our schools do in the states, where you can find ANY supply you need(staples, tape, paper, construction paper, pencils, glue); many of the supplies they are lacking still but at least now they have a cleaner room in which to store it. Ok so half way through our cleaning binge, I pushed the broom far under one of the shelves(keep in mind, the lighting was not great in there) and I looked down and there was a TAIL! As you might expect, I screamed, dropped the broom and ran! Kimberly quickly followed as Mario said “It’s just a rat” and I kept running and said “I’ve just got to catch my breath!” The rat was dead; appeared to have been dead for years because according to Mario(I trusted him and didn’t want to look at the rodent another time:) all it was was a skeleton of a rat and its tail. ALL it was, humph!! Needless to say, Kimberly and I were more cautious during the rest of our cleaning spree.

Kimberly left on Saturday and as she got on her plane, Libby Sanders(one of my best friends in Nashville) got off. Seeing my dad get off the airplane was emotional since it was my first visitor but seeing Libby get off that plane and walk out of customs made me jump up and down. I was so excited not only to share Belize with her, but also to have one of my nearest and dearest down here to bring to life the experiences and people I could only try to describe. Upon arrival, Mac took us to Corozal, via Jacob’s Farm, a drug and alcohol rehabilitation place, that Mac and the Belize Project helped to start. We met Morrow, one of the leaders and recovering addicts, who shared his story with us and with joy in his eyes, told us that he has been sober for exactly a year and he has God to thank. We drove away, with a rainbow in the sky, a warm hug from God, telling both me and Libby that this week was going to be good—filled with new experiences, fun times and moments, like she had already seen on the farm, where God shows up. The next day was Sunday(don’t worry, I won’t chronicle every minute of our week) and we went to a church in Chan Chen with Mrs.Lacey to film the last of the 10 churches that the Laceys started. After church, we went to Dorothy’s (Mrs. Lacey’s next door neighbor and friend) house for lunch. I have grown accustomed to the food and while I am somewhat cautious with what I eat(since the water cannot be consumed, you have to be careful with how things are cleaned), Libby was hyper sensitive to what she should and should not consume. (Hyper sensitive in a VERY good way; she was taking malaria pills and while she had had the Hep A vaccine, she hadn’t had it in the recommend amount of time before coming down here, thus making her more aware of what she was consuming). With her round, greenish/bluish eyes, she looked at me and her eyes asked it all—what exactly was safe to eat on the table. I quickly assessed the choices and felt confident that the rice, chicken, cooked broccoli, and tortilla chips were all safe to eat. I felt good that her first meal in a home was going to be safe…until we saw the water jug come out. We had, mind you, already each consumed about 2 glasses of Kool-Aid and it wasn’t until we saw the water jug that we both grew very weary; picture a jug that you might find in a basement(lots of basement mentioning in this blog) and that might be filled with gasoline or oil; not something where you find water, much less water to be consumed. After the meal, we walked in the kitchen to start cleaning the dishes and my curiosity got the best of me and I said as calmly as I could “Dorothy, just for our peace of mind, especially Libby’s since she is here for only a week, is this water purified” to which she responded “well, I get the rain water from the roof and put a drop of Clorox in it.” Oh great, call poison control because Libby and I drank several glasses of Clorox water; call us crazy, but her response(followed by the chronicle of diseases she has had in the years she has been in Belize—she is from Michigan originally) far from squelched our weariness and in fact, heightened our worry. Needless to say, I felt bad that Libby’s first official day in the country resulted in a meal where Clorox water was consumed.

When Libby emailed me to let me know her plane ticket had been purchased, I was ecstatic and began thinking of what the week would look like. What would she think of where I lived, what would she think of the bugs, the heat, the fact that you have to put on OFF several times throughout the day, the buses, the cold showers, and other things to which I had grown accustomed. I found myself praying a good bit for the week, that it would not be at all what we would want it to be but what God would want it to be—where we were to spend our time(which school) and energy. The weeks and days preceding Libby’s arrival, although I still had not received confirmation from the principal at Cornerstone that we would be of help there, I felt an overriding peace that the week would play out as God intended, and that it did.

Monday was my birthday and I awoke to sweet Libby singing happy birthday to me, holding two pieces of chocolate cake over me in bed(how she smuggled two pieces of Kroger cake through security and customs is beyond me); tears filled my eyes not only because of how I was greeted that morning, but because I immediately thought of how different the day would have been had Libby not been there; no one in Belize knew it was my birthday and there is something seemingly really lonely sounding about no one knowing it is your birthday (except for friends/family back home). So, God already was hugging me by having Libby be here on my birthday. Monday was also the first day of school and we arrived mid-morning after going to journal at Tony’s. Upon arriving at Cornerstone, we sat down with Albert, the principal, and he showed us our schedule for the week, to teach an IT class, starting at 7:30am. Something I felt very strongly about this week was that Libby had come off of a crazy schedule, much like I had left in Nashville and the last thing I wanted was for her schedule here to mirror any part of her schedule at home, so with all the strength and confidence I had, I told Albert that we would not be arriving each morning until 10:00/10:30 because the only way we would be able to truly love the kids well would be if we had some time each morning to be still with God. I explained to him that Libby’s one week down here did not at all need to resemble what it does at home and I have to protect her and make this week a week of solitude and rest as well as serving and giving. He understood. Ok so that night, Libby and I were on my porch about to eat some dinner, when we heard voices singing “Happy Birthday” and I looked up and Romalda(Albert’s wife and my friend who has had me over for dinner several times) and her daughter were carrying a beautiful coffee cake(picture included). I was so surprised not only that they had remembered, but that they went to the effort of making me a cake that could have been in a museum of cakes, it was so beautiful. As they drove away, tears welled up; I felt very loved by Libby being there, by the flood of emails from friends/family back home and then by Romaldo, probably my closest friend here, taking the time to make me a cake and bring it to me. A surprise I shall never forget.

So, the rest of the school week, Libby and I arrived at the school in time to teach several IT classes throughout the day. You might be asking yourselves, I didn’t know Presh and Libby were IT savvy; well, the funny thing is we aren’t but we knew enough to lead a class of ALL GUYS(juniors and seniors) and help them make brochures on publisher and word. On Monday, we were admittedly nervous, awkward freshmen(or so we felt), giggling while we taught and trying to find a place at a picnic table during lunch. Flashbacks of being nervous and awkward in 9th grade came back to me. By Tuesday though, we felt more comfortable in our own skin and the kids started to warm up to us; we even had a lunch date with two freshmen by Wednesday.
By the end of the week, we had had conversations with one student who opened up about his rough past(was in a gang) and his parents’ relationship and then on Friday, my face lit up when one girl we had both taken to looked at me and said “Presh, can I walk with you because none of my friends are around.” I remember that feeling, so vividly, of not wanting to walk solo because it appeared as if you didn’t have any friends; I was honored she wanted to walk with me. Libby and I were making friends! Since Libby and I are both blondes and since neither one of us speak a lick of Spanish, we stuck out like sore thumbs but what started as looks of wondering what the heck we were doing there, turned into(by week’s end) smiles and hugs from the kids. I never thought I was one to be particularly drawn to teenagers(if asked, I would have said I love the little ones more) but I loved the week and have now decided I want to spend more time there(along with the school in Orange Walk) during my last month in Belize. It’s amazing how you can think and plan one thing and God has entirely different plans in store.

Libby left yesterday and although I was so sad to see her go, it was a week I shall never forget, not only because of the laughs we shared, and the memories of being a co-teacher for IT class , but more than anything just seeing God meet us both where we were, in such beautiful ways. He allowed her to embrace the parts of Belize I have grown to absolutely love; the people, the manner of being still and the necessity of relaxing in a hammock. Friday, before she left, Libby and I added some things to the “hugs from God” poster and today, in thinking of the week, I have added some more.