November Newsletter

NOVEMBER NEWS FROM THE RUNKLES

This past month was filled with many adventures . . . flood clean-up, a Central American road trip, two of our kids' birthdays, and continued busy days working at the school and the construction site. As most of you read in our last update, there was a big flood in Siguatepeque in October.  While no major damage was done to the city's infrastructure, many people lost possessions, several families lost homes, and a few people even lost their lives.  The picture on the left below is the pile of belongings that were pulled out of a house in town.  (The wooden structure there is the actual house.)  Most of the wood was ruined and had to be pulled down; inside, the floor was only mud, so everything was destroyed.  This house was right next door to the house of one of our Spanish teachers.  Our Spanish teacher's house is much more sturdy.  While much of their furniture and belongings were ruined, the house itself was OK.  We were thankful to be able to join a group of people who went to help with these two homes--throwing out the trash and cleaning up the house.  Several of the nearby churches worked tirelessly for many days to help those who had lost so much.  And many people donated clothes, furniture, and money to help.

Work on the new buildings continues.  Heath, Ethan, and occasionally Jesse, join the Honduran men in this important project.  The roof of the house is underway, and we're excited to see the progress! Erin is into the second quarter of the school year and is relieved to finally have almost all of the nearly-100 students' names learned.  Each music class is preparing a song for the Christmas program, and the 2nd graders are making progress on their English.  A few hundred new books have been given to the library, so work is being done on getting those into the system, and we're eagerly awaiting the new bookshelves to hold all the new books! To read more details about what we've been learning and experiencing during our first three months here, you can read Erin's blog. Ethan celebrated his 12th birthday with 12 hours in the car, as we started our road trip to Belize!  Jesse chose balleadas (a Honduran filled-tortilla meal) for his 10th birthday dinner. We enjoyed a "forced vacation" to Belize to renew our visas.  It was exciting to see Belize, as well as Guatemala, and we enjoyed some fun family time!  Thank you for praying for us!  Read more about it on Erin's blog. Special moment from the classroom:   This week I (Erin) was talking with one of my second graders about our family, and she was asking questions about our daughters' adoptions.  She is one of the children who lives at La Providencia and is in process of being adopted by her family here.  She was telling me that she and three of her siblings are also adopted.  It was cute because, while I already knew which ones were adopted and which were biological, she had to really think about it and correct herself a couple of times.  Adoptive parents get lots of questions, but she asked one I'd never had before:  "Do you like adoption?"  Of course I answered "Yes!" She nodded and said, "I do too.  I love adoption!" Such a sweet reminder of why La Providencia exists, and of why it's worth it to be here helping.  Thank you so much for your prayer, encouragement, gifts, and financial help.  You are truly a part of something that is making a difference--a huge difference--in the lives of children like Carolina, and something that matters in eternity.  Thank you so much.

The First Quarter

One-fourth of our time in Honduras is finished. On one hand, I feel like we've been here forever! On the other, it seems like we just arrived. Time is a strange thing. Before we get any father into our stay here, I want to take time to reflect on these first three months and write about what I've learned so far.

I feel like these beginning months have been mostly about me . . . how I'm adjusting, how I feel, what I've learned. I want our time here to be more focused on others, but so far it's been just trying to keep my head above water in my new responsibilities and in a new place. It's kind of like how flight attendants tell you to put on your own oxygen mask before helping others. I think I've finally got mine on correctly now and can start helping others. But so far it's been just trying to get myself functioning. I'm learning that I'm not as adaptable as I thought I was. When I've gone on short-term trips to other countries, I think I've done a pretty good job of adapting to the surroundings and adjusting to the way of life. But that's only for a couple weeks at a time. Living somewhere else is a whole different ball game.

Before we came, I knew there would be challenges, but dealing with them has been much harder than I expected. It's kind of like when we adopted for the first time—I knew ahead of time that it would be difficult, but I had no idea what that meant until I lived through it—months of depression and feelings of disillusionment, and experiencing like never before how desperately I need my Savior. Moving here hasn't been quite as intense, but pretty close. I think the biggest shock to my system has been the loss of my feelings of competency and independence. For example, at home I feel like I know what I'm doing—in my career, at my church, in running errands, in managing the household, etc. Not so much here. At home I drive wherever I need to go, at any time and without anxiety. Here, I know how to go to about two places, and only in the daylight. At home, I pay the bills and do the shopping. Here, Heath does both because doing either one brings me more stress than I can handle. At home, I can communicate my needs and talk about my feelings and share whatever information I want. Here, I'm like a toddler trying to speak, but I still have adult-size thoughts I'm trying to share, and an adult-sized desire to be polite and friendly, so it's very frustrating! I think that once again God is chiseling away at the pride and self-sufficiency that are so much a part of my comfortable American life, and showing me (yet again) that I cannot do life on my own. I desperately need Him, and—even more humbling to admit—I need other people! There's no self-sufficiency left when you need help doing even the most basic things. The friendships we've been making here are a huge blessing, both for the relationships and the practical survival help!

Something else I've been noticing is not as “spiritual” but is quite interesting. In reading a lot of adoption literature, one of the things I recently learned is that when the brain feels too much fear or anxiety, it loses its higher functioning abilities. I've seen this in Tabitha if I push too hard or start to show frustration (in things like teaching math or correcting her behavior) she will shut down and be unable to think rationally at all. The anxiety makes it impossible for her to learn or remember or think straight. Well, I think I've been experiencing this myself lately. While I'm not normally a fearful person, the experience of living in a culture I'm not used to and having a job where I don't feel competent produces a lot of underlying anxiety. I don't always realize it's there, but I find myself struggling to think straight and having difficulty remembering things. The ongoing stress and anxiety definitely take their toll, and I need to make sure I find ways to relax and reduce stress on a regular basis, if I want to have a chance of accomplishing anything!

Honestly, these internal struggles have filled most of my thoughts and taken most of my energy for the past three months. As humans we often think we're going to go and do “such and such,” but the Lord has His plans of what He will be accomplishing. And many times I find that it's more about what He's doing in my own life than it is about what work I'm doing for Him.

Which brings me to another of my first-quarter thoughts. What is a “missionary?” Is there really a difference between the “missionary” and the “regular Christian?” Before we left home I didn't really think of us as becoming “missionaries.” Missionaries are those really spiritual people who go throughout the world preaching wherever they go! They're on fire for Christ and are extremely passionate about evangelism. I'm none of those things . . . not “really spiritual,” not equipped with a personality that really gets “on-fire” about anything, and evangelism scares the stuffing out of me! And yet, most people consider us “missionaries” now. We're invited to all the “missionary” events here, we're introduced as “missionaries,” and most people in the States think of us as missionaries as well, even if just for a year.

I guess people use the term to mean someone who is in full-time “Christian service” (whatever that means); usually, but not always, living in a culture other than their own; and dependent on others for their financial needs. We're in a different culture, and we're dependent on others for support, but beyond that things are pretty much the same. We still have the same strengths and weaknesses as before, we still struggle with the same sins. Becoming a “missionary” hasn't magically made me any better at evangelism, or more consistent in my prayer life, or more full of compassion, or any of those things. I do hope that God is using this experience to change me in all of those ways, but I'm not any more holy than I was back at home, or any more spiritual than those who serve Christ in the USA. We are ALL called to be in full-time Christian service. When we go back home, we won't be finished serving Him. No matter where we live, we are supposed to be devoting our lives to His service, worshiping Him through every aspect of our days, sharing about Him with others, seeking to know Him more. We don't have any more or less responsibility for any of that based on where we live or where we work or who pays our salary.

While “regular” people may have the same responsibility to serve Christ that “missionaries” do, being here has indeed given me an greater appreciation for those in “full-time missions.” Just in these few months I've been able to see and experience some of the challenges and difficulties that they face. It's also helped me realize that they are just “real people.” They don't have super powers that make it easy for them here or make them perfect Christians. They're real people who are willing to serve Christ in a way that's different and “abnormal,” but real people nonetheless. And I hope that after we go back, I'll remember what it feels like to be in a strange land, far from home, not always sure about what you're doing, not always confident that you're succeeding. And hopefully I'll be better at praying for missionaries, and supporting them—not just financially, but with communication and encouragement. They're not Super-Christians; they're fellow members of the body of Christ who need our support.

I think being here has also opened my eyes to things I take for granted. I've been to several countries and always come back feeling so grateful for the comforts and conveniences we enjoy in America. This time is no exception, and I'm sure I'll be more grateful than ever for certain things when we get back! At the same time though, I hope that I'm getting closer to being content in any and every situation. Just as physical exercise is good for strengthening the body, I think the “soul exercise” of living in less convenient circumstances is good for strengthening character. It's interesting to see that there are happy people and miserable people no matter what country you're in and no matter what material goods you have or don't have. We can choose to live in gratitude and contentment—or choose not to—no matter what our situation. My goal (which I have a very long way to go to attain) is to rejoice in the Lord always, no matter the circumstances. Being here is a strength-building exercise on the path to that goal.

One last thing that has been neat during this first quarter is to see our relationships with the people here growing and changing. When you come on a short-term trip there's a tendency to become enamored with everyone and everything here. It's an intense but shallow friendship. When you live here, the novelty wears off and the people are just people. The longer we're here, the less awareness of “us” and “them” I have. Sometimes I forget we're not the same nationality or race, or even that we speak different languages. With a few people, we're developing friendships that I'm sure will last for many years. My view of the Honduran children has gone through several levels as well. When we visited, it was “oh those poor sweet little children.” Moving here it quickly became “oh those little devils who make teaching so difficult!” And now, as I've adjusted to the classroom and am getting to know the kids individually, it's more like, “Oh my precious students. Even though they're difficult sometimes, teaching them is quite a privilege, and I'm pretty sure I'm learning more from them than they are from me. What a blessing they are!”

While these first three months have had their share of difficulties, I do feel very blessed to have this opportunity. I know our family will be stronger, our worldviews will be more accurate, and our lives richer because of it. Praise the Lord for the gifts He gives, and the grace He provides every day.