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Mi culpa...mi gran culpa! Forgive my very late post. Is it already the middle of November? I'll be back in the States for Christmas in a month. It's hard to believe. Part of the reason I haven't written is because it intimidates me. So much happens in a day...crises and joys. It's funny--here, everything always seems wrong and impossible and surreal. People are always sick, poor, suffering, sad...and yet at the same time somehow everything is perfectly fine and in its place. One minute I am fed up with how painful everything is, and the next I'm smiling and surrendering. And the mountains are still a cause of wonder for me. Life here is incredibly paradoxical.
Over the past month I've started to work more consistently with the Mother's group here and the Scholarship program for students. Many of the students have mothers in the group. Most of the mothers are single. Three times a week I make visits to their homes. There aren't telephones or street names...the social worker whom I work with, Sagrario, , simply knows where they all live. It's so amazing how they trust us and open up to us with every problem. I've left in tears multiple times.
A few stories from the past month.
We found out that the man who played guitar at our local parish died suddenly of a heart attack. His kids are all involved in our ministries, and his 14-year old daughter comes to the class that I co-teach on Sunday afternoons for young women. I hadn't really met her (there are about 40 girls in the class!) but when we showed up at their home to pay our respects and pray with them, I did my best to comfort her. I've never had to comfort someone who lost their father 2 days before...but it was incredible how she opened up to me and trusted me. After she cried for a while, I asked her what her favorite memory of her Dad was. She preceded to show me every single picture of him that she had. She was laughing...so was I. And it was beautiful...almost every picture was related to a liturgical celebration. He was a true man of God.
One of my favorite people here is our friend Marta, or Martita as we call her affectionately. She is a woman in her 50s, but she has extreme mental incapacities. No one really knows exactly what happened to her. She has been a friend of the community since the beginning, and she stops by almost everyday for food, coffee, and her eyedrops and medicine. She usually isn't wearing shoes, and her hair is full of little white things...(though she just got it cut!) Every time I walk her to the door after her visit she stops and venerates Christ in the tabernacle saying, "Jesus protect me and care for me". She touches and rubs all the paintings we have of Jesus or Mary crossing herself and praying. She is like a little child without fear. Everybody in our community has a story about Martita. A few weeks ago, during the major flooding that occurred here, she was scared to sleep in her house because there are holes in her roof. So, another missionary and I slept overnight with her in our ministry center. As I was saying goodnight to her, her little body wrapped up in 3 blankets, I thought...this is Jesus. I'm caring for Jesus right now. Sometimes the Missioners sit around and talk about humorous things she has done or said, because they are beautiful and plentiful. When we talk about her, it's so joyful. It's like we are talking about Jesus Himself.
And lastly, Suyapa. Please keep her in your prayers. She is a woman who comes to our Thursday mother's group. She has severe depression, and it was so bad a while ago that she had to put her 4 kids in an orphanage since she was pregnant again. She now has a 4 month old beautiful baby girl. She lives nearby in a room that the Friars help her to rent. But a few weeks ago, she overdosed on her depression pills. Here there is no hospital able to host a poor person when something like this happens. But it wasn't safe to leave her alone in her home with all the drugs still in her systems and a little baby girl to care for. Therese, my sister missioner, and I spent one night with her in the ministry center...I slept next to the little baby girl, giving her bottles and worrying all night that I was going to crush her. But the next morning it was peaceful and beautiful and I was so happy that Suyapa was still alive. She's doing a little better but needs our prayers immensely. The spirit of depression in the women here is, well...depressing. But when they smile? How could anyone lose hope after seeing smiles like theirs?
And as for me? I am simply praying that I can always be poor enough to realize how much I need God. The Kingdom of God is here among us, even and especially in Honduras. These are the people that we are preparing ourselves to spend Heaven with, because their faith and childlikeness makes it apparent that God holds a special place in His heart for them. I'm looking forward to visiting my homeland in a month for Christmas, but they remind me that my real homeland is Heaven, when we can rest from this constant struggle that is life.
I pray for a Happy Thanksgiving to all of you! We have a busy few weeks ahead of us..so I look forward to catching up when I'm home. Thank you again for allowing me to be here with your support, encouragement and prayers. I bring you with me everyday!
En Su Amor,
MJ
The Church in which Our Lady of Suyapa, patroness of Honduras, appeared. (Maria Santos Martires in the wheelchair has no limbs...sits close to Jesus there everyday!)
<--My bros and sisters...our Missioners community. Que guapos...
