Here are some pics of the big day...
I counted three desserts... it's good to be the birthday girl!!
Happy partygoers with the birthday girl! ( I love the smile on the little girl in pink!!)
He will fit you for the work and give you strength." -St Philip Neri
For the past few years I have been following the story of Steven Curtis Chapman (an incredible Christian musician) and his wife Mary Beth who (after much encouragement from their then 11-year-old daughter Emily) have adopted three girls from China. They have since dedicated their lives to the cause of adoption and
care for orphans around the world, and have created a foundation called Shaohannah's Hope to help others who feel called to adopt as well. This video tells the incredible story of their journey, and some of the miracles they have seen happen along the way.
The part of the video that really affects me is when Steven Curtis Chapman says that the moments when he's most overwhelmed by the experience are the moments when he thinks, "We almost could have missed this-- we almost could have missed what God wanted to do." (Which is perhaps the best and most convicting definition of the miracle of cooperating with God's grace that I have ever heard.)"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." - Matthew 6:21
It is Tuesday night here at the Farm, and extremely difficult to believe that our time here is almost halfway over. I am quickly beginning to realize that two months is not nearly enough time to even scratch the surface of this labor of love which has already captured our hearts.
Atop a greenish chalkboard in our 4th grade aula is written, "A day lived for God is a rare adventure." So many adventures, both big and small. The adventure of this summer, the adventure to give love away, the adventure of true openness to walk with God. I am learning what it means to live God's adventure with a heart that is completely and beautifully free.
A few snapshots of my free-spirited adventure:
My running shoes and chaco sandals carefully dodge stones, splash through rivers and sink into sandy beaches as I run, hike, and carry 4-year-olds through the lush, cloud-topped mountains. My stomach has held up remarkably well as I indulge in baleadas, topagillos, and plenty of rice and beans. Despite plentiful bug bites and a few strange rashes, my body serves me well and even enjoyed its first bucket shower this past week :) My "mente" (mind), though often tired, is stretching and growing rapidly, and was put to good use on Friday as I served as a translator for an international medical brigade from Arkansas.
Last weekend, I had the joy of attending my very first Honduran wedding, as the entire Finca community was invited just a few minutes down the beach to celebrate the "boda" of an old vol and her new husband. Dogs and two-year-olds plopping down in the aisle, totally off-key singing and a gorgeous sunset made for an experience that was pretty "diferente" but totally beautiful. Afterwards, joined by the oldest Finca boys, my fellow vols and some only-moderately-sketchy local Honduran men, I shook my gringa hips under the bright starry sky until the wee hours of the morning. I dance with light feet and a light heart.
Last night I wrote by the light of a single candle and listened to the sounds of explosive laughter and harmonies of voices singing alleluia resonating through our house which is so filled with geckoes and love. I joined the oldest boys from House 5 as they taught me to fish and hunt "cangrejos" (crabs) by the light of the moon. I sat by a campfire on the beach, was dragged into the sparkling water (fully clothed) and floated on my back with my Honduran brothers, looking at the stars and the cloudy sky illuminating the tops of mountains in the distance. Yesterday my soul sister Cassidy and I ran on the beach during an afternoon "tormenta" (storm), letting the cold rain pelt our faces and soak our clothes, diving head-first into the warm, choppy waters, yelling out to the mountains until explosive thunder sent gringa free spirits running, shrieking, laughing inside for cover.
And although my Spanish is far from "completa", I am learning to speak a far more beautiful language… the language of love. What does it mean to love as God does? What does it mean to love a child? It means immense vulnerability… and relentless forgiveness. I speak the language of love as 2-year-old Rosita runs to me with open arms and points to the moon… as little boys plop down in my lap… as I have a spontaneous post-dinner bachata-style dance party with 6-year-olds. They are my greatest teachers and the best part of my adventure.
And so my prayer is to be open to the ultimate adventure of dancing with the King, to learn what it means to love with reckless abandon, to allow my soul the freedom to sing of His marvelous light. I pray to seek His fingerprints in all faces and moments, to let my heart beat with the quiet reminder that this life is not my own, to pour out day after day after day, again and again. I am a work in progress, broken and poured out, yearning to sing long and loud and beautifully the melody the great Composer has placed in my heart.
Sing well.
Erin-- take. bless. break. share. honduras summer 2007




We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.- Joseph Campbell
"To dare is to risk losing your foothold for a moment. Not to dare is to risk losing yourself." -Soren Kierkegaard

"And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you, about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it?" – Donald Miller in Through Painted Deserts
I cannot even begin to describe what life here has been like, and I don't think I should really try in such limited internet time... but I am in awe of the goodness of it all. My constant wrestling with the Spanish language... the beauty of the heights of the mountains... celebrating mass with the mountain community in Buena Vista... swimming in the posas... these moments of grace remind me of my smallness, that this existence is not my own. I have already been challenged in so many ways, and I know there is so much more yet to come... yet I also feel God's grace being poured out on me, and I know that it is only through Him- seriously- that I can do anything this summer.
Goodnight!"... the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." (John 1:5)
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