As I have had the enormous pleasure of reconnecting with people and sharing about my life over the past 8 months, I find myself scratching my head trying to figure out what people want to hear. Should I talk about the man who went septic from the wounds he sustained during a machete fight? The one time just me and another doctor delivered two babies at the same time…running back and fourth between the two women? The daily moto accidents (including my very own)? How dengue fever has invaded the country and tragically taken the lives of so many?
Or should I talk about the howler monkeys? The scorpions? Or how I’ve built up my own reputation amongst the staff as being “the one who loves watching cysts get popped”?
My time in Honduras has been tough. I am making cultural mistakes. I am constantly unsure of what I’m doing in the hospital. I am facing moral crossroads, and I am seeing day in and day out circumstances that Just. Seem. So. Unfair.
I have also been welcomed and embraced by so many wonderful people who are some of the most kind and generous humans I have ever met. I’ve been lucky enough to experience the richness of a culture that prioritizes people and relationships. I’m attempting everyday to speak and connect in a language that is not my own (and everyday messing it up). I am a part of a community that, while it has plenty of flaws, prays together, worships together, and is always looking for ways to help one another out.
Maybe one day I’ll have the whole “Spanish-speaking jungle nurse” thing figured out. Maybe one day I’ll able to write a blog talking about how I’ve come to complete peace with God over all the suffering I’ve seen. For now, I’m choosing to meditate on the seasons of life King Solomon wrote about in Ecclesiastes 3. “There is a time to plant and a time to uproot..a time to mourn and a time to dance”. Life is messy and filled with seasons, but we can hold on to the fact that God promises to never leave us. Through every season God is there, walking along side of us.