These are a few notes I took while I was in Honduras a few weeks ago.
November 18, 2013
I wonder what lives in these trees. What animals are located here in the jungles of Honduras. The green here is so lush. More varied than I’m used to. The sky is a beautiful, clear blue. Light and dimmed, spotted by fluffy, white clouds. I see the shadows cast by clouds cross over the hills. I’m on my second Tica bus, my fourth Central American country. The adventure that is my life continues but I don’ t know how to clear my head.
There are always so many things to say. To report. To dwell upon. The conditions of houses here are beyond my experience in America, but after the World Race I’m no longer surprised. I want to weep over the poverty, but who would that help? No one. So I don’t.
I attempt to snap a photo through the window but power lines and reflections of the glass render them pale, pathetic copies of the grandeur I see.
Overlooking Tegucigalpa, Honduras.
Jon foreman is singing of the Lord’s love as I stare, trying my best to take in my surroundings and not let it slip past me. Who knows if I’ll ever be back here again.
Last night I met two kiwis and an Australian. Lovely young men. They looked fresh out of school and had beautiful voices. I never caught their names, but man, what an existence. The Aussie flies home this morning through six cities before seeing his parents for the first time in over two years. Two years of solo travel. What isolation. Independence. I don’t know that I would want to do it for long. I want people.
Perhaps beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but if someone doesn’t see the beauty in this place then I declare them blind.
Honduras is magnificent.
November 20, 2013
It’s not yet six o’clock in the morning on Wednesday but I’m awake, snuggled in the forest green sheets of the bottom bunk in Gracie’s guest room. I slept soundly, dead to the world, caught up in lovely dreams of the future.
It feels like home here. Safe. Comfortable. Warm. I could stay here for ever and sleep well, I think.
Curled in a ball, knees up, pillow near my chest, I feel protected. Mosquito nets hang above both bunks and mine comes down to the bottom, enveloping me.
I’m sweaty, sticky, and probably a bit smelly, so the plan is to take a bucket shower in a few minutes. I wanted to stay safe and sound here for a little while longer, wanted to enjoy the quiet and calm and morning before abruptly pouring cold water on my body.
My request for today is that you show up, Lord. You’ve been involved in every step of this process and I want it to continue in wonderful ways. Help me see it. Surprise me with your glory. Astound me with your sovereignty. Thrill me with your timing.
Bring the pieces together in a miraculous way.
Jesus you are good. Beyond my capability to understand. I love the ways you work. Help me to hear you better and more clearly. Spirit. Keep speaking to me. May I tune into your frequency.
Slowly the sky lightens as the sun rises above the mountains.
It’s another beautiful day in Honduras, no doubt. Soon, toddler boys will be running around the yard, coffee will be brewed, and young mothers will wake to a new dawn.
November 21, 2013
I have no words. I simply want to stare out this window until the ground recedes into water and there are no more hills to admire.
Incredible.
I'm moving websites and will no longer be blogging here on the World Race page!
New blog at jennamalinen.wordpress.com.
Click HERE to go check it out.
