Poco a Poco

“I’ve noticed something about people who make a difference in the world…They aren’t determined to revolutionize the world all at once; they’re satisfied with small changes. Over time, though, the small changes add up.” (Katie Davis, Kisses From Katie)

Little by Little

“Teacher, voy a recoger bananas con las mayores,” T. Abi said Friday. “¿Puedo ir con ustedes?” I asked. So I was the teacher who went with the two oldest girls to pick bananas. It felt very empowering to carry a sharp machete into the rainforest, very adventurous to jump up and grab the base of a cluster of bananas and pull on it with all my weight until the branch broke off the tree, very earthy to carry our bountiful harvest back to our house! It was 95 degrees and sweat was running in rivers all over my fully-covered body, and I thought for a brief minute about the exchange I’d made: shorts and a cold shower for an hour of quality time laughing with Soledad and Maribel. I’d made the right call.

Diego came up to me for the fifth time on Sabbath with his hands in the shape of an open book and started to sing, “Read your Bible, pray everyday, pray everyday, pray everyday…and you’ll grow, grow, grow!” I beamed and sang it with him yet again, helping him pronounce the only English words I’ve taught my class. Diego’s enthusiasm for the “Growing Song” we sing every morning fills me with enthusiasm! 

My girls and I were sitting around our outdoor table last Wednesday. They saw me writing out verses in highlighter for my class to trace and asked what it was for. So I offered, “Do you want to do it too?” and got a resounding “¡Sí!” (and ended up writing twice as many verses, but not without a big grin). We got out a new pack of crayons, washi tape, and pens and spent hours on 1 Corintios 13.13! 

Blue paint speckled my arms just like those of all the other SMs painting Los Guerreros on Thursday. Since we got here, the guys have been working on fixing up the upstairs of the older boys’ house, and we girls decided that Thursday was the day to help with the third coat of blue paint. “I didn’t sign up for manual labor, but this is a blast!” Elizabeth summed up our little afternoon.

Eight pairs of hands reached out to feel the Polaroid we had just taken. “¡Oooo Ticher!” came the exclamations. Each girl pointed to themselves and laughed at our funny costumes. In preparation for said silly picture, we’d all found some prop to use, be it a floral bucket hat, sunglasses, or tying dolls to girls’ hair. The excitement for something like this was the kind of hype I’m living for in Las Lilas!

A small voice came from my bedroom door, “¿Ticher Kati?” (Nirza gives major Cindy-Lou Who from The Grinch vibes.) I opened my eyes after just having drifted off for my ever-shortening twenty-minute Sabbath nap. The speaker in the kitchen played worship music while my girls sat with crayons, little white notecards, and a Bible picture book. A nap was doomed to failure. I just laughed and got up for the second time since laying down. Art with these girls is the number-one most effective bonding time anyway!

Ana opened her Bible to where mine lay open on the table in front of us. “¡Guau, Ticher! ¡Que bonito!” she reacted to reading a verse I said I liked. We spent half an hour of our Monday afternoon comparing our favorite Bible books and verses, and my soul drank it up. I could have listened to her reading the Beatitudes all day. I couldn’t have manufactured a more beautiful little moment.

All nine student missionaries sat singing in the front pews an hour after church ended. T. Melissa played the piano with great fervor and we enjoyed actual harmony (many of us genuinely fear going tone deaf in the next nine months, as few kids here can carry a tune). It had been an especially tough day for her, as her mom’s health was failing rapidly. Sabbath morning I had woken up hours earlier than usual and felt impressed to make a card for all of us to write in and give her. But the most beautiful coming-together-for-her wasn’t in the written words but in the being present and invested in the music she enjoys. 

I finally caved and took the older Lilas to swim in the river on Monday. I was tired and desperate for a nap, and Carlo had the brilliant idea to hang my hammock beside the river. Nirza came, too, but wasn’t allowed in the water. She and I sat in the hammock eating Oreos and sharing snuggles and tickles and laughs. Finally I was ready to sleep, but she was all wiggles, pouncing on me when I’d close my eyes. As she laid still for a moment and heat radiated off of us, I did close my eyes, but this time to savor the feeling of her chubby cheek squished against mine. “Help me to sleep,” I said, and she closed my eyelids with her little fingers and started a peekaboo game instead. I grinned.

Lisvania looked at me across the row of lettuce we were weeding and I looked down at the dirt under my fingernails. I smiled and she smiled back. The exchange reminded me of one Emilianne and Maribel had an hour or so before over the row of green onions. Being involved is different and more important that being present. “Ok, maybe gardening isn’t that bad,” I thought. 

I sat next to Milenca in her top bunk bed and read another Bible story. It was her turn to be the sick one in Las Lilas, and I’ve learned that presence and compassion (and placebos) usually go farther than any medicine. However, later Sunday morning when she started throwing up and laid crying on the kitchen bench, I knew a placebo wouldn’t cut it. I had her head laid on my left leg, baby José sitting on my right leg, Emilianne frying tortillas beside me, and Maddy chopping cabbage salad, all while Nirza twirled around the house with an umbrella she rescued from the burn barrel. Later, I had lentil burgers, ginger tea, and potato soup on the stove, Nirza throwing a tantrum, and Milenca crying, “Me duele mucho,” all at once. Little moments are sometimes messy.

Tuesday we were talking about how fast time was flying: “Every night when I lie in bed I think, ‘Wasn’t I just here?’” I’m starting to realize that while the days are flying in a blur, it’s the little moments like these above that will live vividly in my memory.

Little by little I’m winning the hearts of my kids; little by little I’m using up my gifts and craft supplies; little by little I’m understanding more Spanish; little by little I’m able to recognize the laugh of each of my girls; little by little (or maybe a lot) the other volunteers are feeling like family; little by little I’m getting tired of eating only carbs for every meal. Thank You, Lord, for all the littles.

Little Bit Changed

Our sense of normalcy is completely skewed. 

“They said SMs come back changed…I thought they meant spirituality,” I joked with Treson. 

“We’ll be ok drinking puddle water when we get home,” he laughed, “And will stare blankly at the hot water coming out of the shower!”

I was only half joking when I said, “Low standards produce resilience!”

I’ve put on pants because it was a cool 87 degrees outside, spoken Spanglish on the phone with my family, let little kids use huge knives, hitchhiked into Rurre, decided to let cockroaches live if they’re not touching me, hand-carried a tarantula out of my classroom, eaten bugs in food that I myself helped cook (not making that a regular habit), put all food in the fridge without a Tupperware, become used to having a never-ending supply of fresh bananas, done my laundry with powered dish soap, eaten off of dishes girls washed without said soap, and singed my hair and eyebrows twice lighting the outdoor oven to make muffins. I have no back door to my house (we turn a table on its side at night to resemble a division of indoors and outdoors), have no indoor sink except in the bathroom, bring a flashlight to have light in the shower at night, and hang everything from yarn since tape doesn’t stick to the crumbly walls.

It’s amazed me what has ceased to amaze me! I’m coming back to the U.S. changed in many little ways.

And of course the impact is spiritual. Interestingly, instead of the majority of my time here having the mountaintop feel of a short-term mission trip, the spiritual growth is in little ways.

The biggest challenge has been to balance chaotic service with rest and personal devotional time. I have come to value early mornings and late nights! But one prayer I’ve started to pray is that I can live my entire day walking with God so that the devotional experience never stops; it’s amazing how near He feels and how He’s intervened when I pray those prayers! Already there has been the gift of supernatural patience, a still small Voice reminding me to be love in my classroom, and little reassurances of Him working in the hearts of my girls. 

Poco a poco.

Love from the little bits,

Katie-Jane

🤍

“Yes, if Jesus comes 

into your heart 

you will explode.”

— Kisses From Katie

“Those who are wise 

shall shine like the 

brightness of the firmament, 

and those who turn 

many to righteousness 

like the stars forever and ever.”

— ‭‭Daniel‬ ‭12:3‬

(ft. Ana in Las Lilas)

Banana bonding with Soledad

Diego y su araña

Hanging our first religion art project:

tracing and decorating Juan 3.16