Home is wherever I'm with you: daily grace

Sometimes on mornings of the days that I drive to Prince of Peace to spend time with my girls, I feel a little anxious. It’s just an hour’s worth of an activity, their last hour of classes, that’s all. Yet I stress out because I know I don’t possess the assertiveness of a teacher and I tell myself I will fail. I will fail to capture their attention, their trust, and their affection. I fear that a teacher or someone will walk in the room and see the girls chasing each other around and myself sighing in the middle not knowing what to do. I fear that a girl will not listen to me and keep finding a way to climb on the furniture, ending in her falling to the floor and seconds later, loud wailing. I fear that the girls will all be in bad moods and start fighting and hurling hurtful words at each other, and to my inadequate Spanish they will not listen, and I just want to scream and cry at the same time because how do these 5 year olds already know how to tear another girl down? Breaks my heart. Yes, all these things have happened many times!

Sometimes I just want to throw up my hands and tell them in English “I am not a teacher! What am I doing here? I cannot control you girls to save my life!” If I really did that that would probably get their attention for a few seconds…but they wouldn’t understand a thing I said. It makes me giggle to picture it.

I get frustrated with these little things, but it’s not until later that I realize something and kick myself: I am NOT their teacher, I am their friend. I am their sister. I am the girl that comes a few afternoons a week and just has fun with them. That is all I’ve been asked to do. And that’s all the girls expect of me. I think from the beginning I’ve put pressure on myself to have orderly sessions with them—to prove myself (to whom? To the teachers? To myself? I don’t even know!) and to be successful. In my head I dream that they will be so thrilled to see me and to sit down nicely to a table and talk sweetly to each other while we work on a craft or a game. When this does happen on occasion, I just beam and gush with pride, but most of the time it doesn’t go according to plan—so what do I do? What is my attitude when there’s only chaos and I have no control? When everything I’ve prepared falls apart? When I want things to go one way and they go the exact opposite?

I suppose I could segway this paragraph into one about how I feel similar anxieties with other areas of life right now—one being the good ol’ job search. With that situation, too, I feel a loss of control. I’ve perfected and sent out my resumé, made phone calls, and found connections, but no matter how much I’ve prepared, ultimately, being called for an interview is a decision left up to the employer.

Right now, these are the two things I’ve been learning to release from my own grip and place it into Someone else’s hands.

The One who is faithful and who has continuously met all our needs from the moment Zach and I said ‘I do’ and ran away from home will never bring us too far that He cannot supply. In time, God will provide places for us to work in the States. And on a more day-to-day level, He will provide me with the strength, grace, and humility I need to show His great love for these little girls I get to “teach” for an hour. (And really, the hard part has always only been that hour, because after school’s out, we all run up the hill to have lunch and hang out and all the pressure to keep their behavior under control is gone, ha.)

This morning, when I started to feel dread because I hadn’t planned the day’s project for the girls yet, I decided to just ask Jesus for peace and decided not to sweat it—I’d wing it. And wing it I did. And it didn’t turn out perfectly. There was crying. Someone did fall off furniture and onto the hard tile floor. There was pushing and shoving and rapid-fire voices speaking out above my own. And then all four of them were trying to fit into a big comfy chair together. But I chose not to get frustrated or worried that a teacher would walk by and see me struggling. I stopped being desperate and instead, I looked at those precious girls being so darn cute trying to get all snuggly in the chair together, and I chose to be satisfied. They were sharing. They were making room for each other. Rubí took Estrella’s hand and planted a kiss on it. Then I kissed my hand and put it on Rubí’s cheek, which started a hilarious chain reaction of kiss-to-hand-to-faces. There was much laughter and I praised them for being so sweet to one another. Since I didn’t have a whole lot more planned, I decided we’d end early and be the first ones to the houses for lunch before the older girls.

That hour ended and I felt so alive. Alive with thankfulness and confidence and knowing fully that it was the Spirit that helped me overcome my humanness. It is such a human thing to desire control. To have everything figured out. But it is simply impossible and just plain ridiculous to think we can have that all the time, or at all really. I don’t want to fall into the thinking that I own my own life.

Father, humble me when I become obsessed with the outcome, with my own ideal. Put things in my way that give me the opportunity to trust you more. For I know that a well-developed trust can only bring peace.

I don’t always get this right. I tend to feign calmness, but I can actually be a pretty anxious person. Trusting God is something I've got to keep working on all the time. This afternoon, however, He showed me grace and helped me choose the right attitude during my time with the girls. My reward was this: a heart FULL of joy at lunch time.

We laughed a lot.

I chowed down on my first sweet mango.

I got to color with little Marcos afterwards (cutest little boy award)

Girls climbing all over me and tickling.

Got to know the new sisters! (They just arrived at the Home 2 days ago, and they don’t look very Guatemalan to me-- green eyes--? But I can tell their first language is Spanish, so…) This one is Maria and she is super sweet and intelligent! I can't wait to see her again.