January
Bolivians describe life through seasons. “It’s the windy season.” Or, “It’s yucca season.” “Mango season is the time of the flies.” Before I left for Christmas, Tia Ester assured me, “When you come back, it will be rainy season, which is also mosquito season.” The temporadas often overlap: something good (the mangos) mingled with bad (swarms of flies), with good and bad battling for dominance.
Tia Ester was right: January is the season of rain and of mosquitos. But personally, January has been a season defined by sunrises, creating and connection.
Returning to Bolivia, I determined to find beauty here and to create daily rituals that would engrain a deeper love of God and the world. Watching the sunrise every morning is one way I’ve tried to do that. The simple habit of getting up an hour earlier, listening as the bugs start their buzz, observing a flock of green parakeets hop about tree branches, seeing the sky change from dark night to glinting sun, has quieted my soul and made space for reflection.
The summertime living has been easy in the sense of relaxed schedules and little pressing work. I worked on cleaning and redecorating my classroom as well as creating a rug from plastic bags I’ve collected from weekly market trips. It has been a time consuming project, but I’m hoping to reap a beautiful atmosphere and spark creativity in return. The rug should last well beyond my time in Bolivia, and making it has been another soul refresher, so I count it is time well spent.
Creation has not stopped there, though. As of yet, I can not create beautiful music, but I can play major and minor chords and know a few keys on guitar. Tio Marco bribed Naomi and I into returning to Bolivia with the promise of guitar lessons, so every Tuesday and Thursday evening, we’re in the English Classroom strumming away.
The best gift January has given me is deeper connections. Two of the preteen girls wanted to make pancakes again after the December pancake breakfast, so we made them for their group’s afternoon snack, followed by multiple baking visits. Each visit, the girls shared different pieces of their stories and memories they had of working with their grandma and dad in the kitchen. I have numerous fond memories of baking with my mom, and I hope our times together can be added to times they feel loved and secure.
The other day, one of the transition girls asked me to teach her to make banana bread. While the bread was in the oven, she sat at the table with Naomi, Izzy (a new intern) and me telling us of her hidden inward battles with university and the struggle of not knowing the future. She is the oldest of four and feels the responsibility to lead her siblings well. The weight of not letting the Mama and Papa of the home down sitting heavy on her shoulders. We ended the night praying for her and assuring her she is never alone nor a failure. I was able to share my own inner fight during college: wanting to quit, not knowing what to study, feeling trapped. I had also kept it hidden, feeling ashamed of my insecurities, but now it is an example of God transforming my weaknesses.
Many evenings, the youngest boy, now seven (he just had his birthday), seeks me out. We will sit together looking at old photos on my phone, playing cards or watching the ants. I think he just wants to know he is safe and loved.
Just yesterday, one of the little girls ran upstairs to show me her loose tooth.
“Tia, how do I pull it out?”
“You count to three and yank!”
The tooth was practically falling out of her mouth, but she still winced as she touched it. “I can’t, Tia.”
“Do you want me to do it for you?”
She nodded her head. We counted to three, but then she closed her mouth, “Pray first.”
“God, thank you for Sofia’s courage. Help this to be a good memory, and the pain to only last for a second.” Then, “One. Two. Three. . . . Look, Sofia, it’s right here.” A broad smile (minus a tooth).
As if by magic, all the other girls came scampering up the stairs at that moment. And, another miracle, I had just enough cookies to share with each one. A mini celebration for Sofia and an answer to our prayer.
I have been praying for divine love and compassion, and God is always faithful to answer. One day, two of the little girls were fighting (hair pulling, hitting) right on me. One girl was hugging me around the waist while the other was holding my hand. I could barely move (girl hugging was not letting go but only squeezing tighter while both girls’ tempers were rising), so I only had one leg and arm to separate them. This situation previously would have overwhelmed and upset me. Instead, I was able to see the dysregulation and stay calm through it. Hopping on one leg with the other raised to create space between the girls, I reminded them, “What do we do when we feel hate in our hearts? ‘God, give me your love.’” That was all, then I helped redirect the one attempting another hair pull, “You can fight with my leg, but we do NOT hurt others.” And the redirect turned into a game. First, my leg was a snake she was killing, then it was a tortoise that moved slowly, sloooowly as she hit the air above it, trying to break a durable shell. Somehow the game ended with all of us laughing on the grass, looking at the sunset colored sky and talking about God’s eternal family. God had given each of us His love for this moment.
These things are not quantifiable and have no seen product. But for what they lack in the tangible, I hope they reap in the spiritual.
More countable, this month has been full of reading, another benefit of summer.
Help for Billy touches on the manifestations of childhood trauma in the classroom. Written for both parents and teachers, the author shows how addressing behaviors, without analyzing the WHY can be detrimental to children and frustrating for adults.
The Connected Child is a book I know I will come back to again and again. The author shows the neurochemistry behind trauma and shares practically how to holistically help a child heal.
The Hidden Smile of God follows the lives of three well-known saints: John Bunyan, William Cowper and David Brainerd. Each suffered throughout their lives, battling depression, rejection and loneliness. John Piper directly connects their suffering to lasting fruit and joy.
The Whispering Land was a fun listen: telling tales of Argentine animals and people. The author recounts his adventures filming and collecting the diverse animals of Latin America.
As wonderful as summer has been, this season is drawing to a close. The wind has shifted this past week. School starts on Monday. Thursday I will start a weekly discipleship with the youngest kiddos. Tutoring and learning are turning to full gear. Various other projects are starting, and just like that, summer break gives way to diligence and hard work.
Prayer Requests
School. As school starts, stress increases, especially for kids with trauma. Pray they can grow through this school year and their teachers will be wise in their instruction.
Discipleship. My plan for teaching the littles is to focus on memorization and song. Pray that our hour a week can be of lifelong value for them.
Transition Girls. Recently, the transition girls (those currently in university or trade school) have been on my heart. Pray for them as they face decisions about the future and are moving towards independence. They need peace and wisdom.
