Joy

Nestled snug in our twin beds with the gentle hum of our air conditioner buffering as white noise, we sleep. We sleep well. We're tired. Our alarm? The celebratory, explosion of fireworks- at four thirty in the morning. Each half hour or so is punctuated by the same profane noise. My coping technique is simple, I incorporate it into my dreams and pretend someone, somewhere is throwing a party in my honour, because I'm in El Salvador. It's not really working. I think I would like to hunt down the hooligans responsible for destroying my sleep cycle. I won't. I'm in El Salvador on a missions team. I must be mission minded. So I wake and try not to throw anything at my roommates. Some don't know me that well. It may be misconstrued. At this point I'm focussing on pleasant thoughts. Until, our wake up knock. I do believe I may have asked *snarled at* the kind fellow to go away. There were only two witnesses to my character meltdown and Vanessa and Karen are too sweet to judge me.
It's all great fun. An experience to...well, to blog about.

My biggest challenge: not knowing spanish.

It's frustrating not being able to talk to our new friends. I'm doing a lot of hugging and smiling. My new friend had her house built today. She sat and watched us all day. I can't even imagine her excitement, her anticipation. I imagine her head is full of plans. Her house. What will she do? Where will she put her belongings. Her hands, full of love and gratitude will touch the home we built and she will make it her own. I see her hope, I feel her pleasure, and it pricks a tiny hole in my heart. There is a shard of painful awareness within me. Hr joys are simple. Her joys are pure. There are times mine are not. Mine can be selfish and complicated. The Lord blesses her. She blesses me.