Coming Home

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers this past month. It has meant so much, made such a difference. I was so glad of your support, so glad to be with family during a time of such sadness amidst a season of such celebration.

And now I am back. I've been blessed to have friends and family who have taught me that one can have many homes. As I've returned, I've recognized once again that Suchitoto is one of my homes.

As with all homes, there are things that are easy and others that are difficult, there is joy and sadness, but we help each other along. The other volunteers here are amazing beyond words, and in this first week back I have already been inspired by them, and humbled, to see the work they are doing with such love, with such self-gift, amidst circumstances that can be shaking and challenging. There actions, there presence is calling me forth from myself, to give and be present and love and not preoccupy myself with the self-guilt or pressure which I can tend to. They make this place home.

The Salvadorans here, too, make this place my home. Walking through the plaza this morning, a young boy called my name and come over and said hello. On a walk this morning, a man on a horse walked is horse at my speed for several minutes and talked as we journeyed toward el centro. Minutes before, a pick up whizzing by had stopped to offer my a ride up the hill. One of my students -- one of those students who has stolen my heart -- came by yesterday asking when our classes would be starting again, and then hung out with me while I watched the skate park. One of my friends who runs a tienda near by kept hugging and hugging me when she I visited to let her know I was back, as glad to see me I was her. Eva, the woman I live with, too. They make this place home.

This country makes itself my home -- the smell of the air, the heat of the day (sometimes scorching), the coolness of the night, the beans with every meal, the green and now brown country side, the breezes.

And I make this my home. Alex, one of my fellow volunteers, sent out an email over Christmas with the phrase "as we plan for the new year in Suchitot, we all know now what we need to feed us..." what we need to make this place home. So I've been going for walks in the morning, taking in the beauty of the countryside, the lake, my neighbors. Mother Theresa says "The fruit of silence is prayer. The fruit of prayer is faith. The fruit of faith is love. The fruit of love is service. The fruit of service is peace." So I am grounding each day in the silence which is the breath of life.