swarm.

It is a beautiful Sunday morning here in Santa Ana, Honduras! The mountain climate is behaving, which means we have a nice breeze and sunshine. Today should be a relatively easy day, but we never know what's going to materialize by the end of the day.

I can already tell that this summer in Honduras is going to be different from the last. I am in a totally different place in my life, my relationship with God has changed considerably, and I've already gotten used to the crazy everyday happenings that define Honduras life. And yet, God has proven to me already that it is silly to think I won't be affected or learn as much this time around. Case in point....

We spent the day in Nuevo Oriental yesterday. A group from Tupelo, MS and Little Rock, AR have been here all week and took on quite the project for this village. A few days ago they measured the feet of 450 people in the village. yes, 450. They then went to the market in the city and bought 450 pairs of shoes. The project took about 3 days to set up and plan. They were definitely meticulous, with lists of each person they had measured and their shoe size. It is rare that a group attempts such order and precision in a giveaway of this magnitude. Even rarer is successful execution. We gave out the shoes at the school in the village, with rooms for VBS crafts, feet washing (cool, huh?), and the actual shoe handout.

Imagine with me for a minute the stories we hear (or experience, if you're crazy) about the stampedes for a cheap DVD player at walmart on black Friday. Those people quickly become a mob, pushing and shoving so that they can snag and pay for a DVD player. Now imagine 450 people with torn flip flops, toe-pinching loafers from 3 years ago, or bare feet waiting to receive a free pair of brand new shoes. Add to that an uncomfortable cultural lack of personal space, and you have the overwhelming situation that occurred yesterday. I was pulled in immediately to help translate for the registration people. As soon as I sat down, the swarm happened. Showing you pictures of me at the little school desk in the middle of the schoolyard would do nothing, as you couldn't SEE us. We were buried by anxious people wanting their name checked off the list so that they could get their shoes. The names were misspelled, others didn't have the last name, and some just weren't on the list. The chaos was overwhelming, and I actually was afraid that I was going to run out of oxygen. The sun was beating down on us, hundreds of people crammed into a few square feet of space. The words MAS ESPACIO came to my lips quickly, and the volume with it. I was hot, stressed, and in actual contact with fifteen equally sweaty hondurans at any given moment. My words were urgent, desperate, even angry as I tried to convey the need for order. I was heard, but definitely not obeyed. No one had a handle on any of it - before long I was stomping around spitting spanish out of my mouth, trying to stay true to the system.

In order to rescue me and those around me, God intervened. Somehow I ended up with a list in my hand and an instant crowd around me. God lifted the panic and the anger from my heart, even though the situation remained the same. I was able to laugh and joke with the crowd surrounding me, calmly checking names off of the list until the group ditched the whole system entirely and just started handing out the shoes. I know everyone learned a lot yesterday, and almost an entire village received clean feet, socks, and a brand new pair of shoes. Simplicity seems to be key in these projects, but big ideas are ALWAYS worth a shot.

It's difficult to look back on my behavior during the first part of the day. I still see the startled, defensive eyes in response to my questions and my orders. I was fighting, trying to stay afloat amidst the chaos. But the people were fighting too. They were fighting for their toddlers, their mothers, their sisters. Here stood an opportunity for them to have a need fulfilled, and they were NOT going to miss it. I was fighting for the rules. There was a system, an order that in my mind had to be followed, despite everything around me. Thankfully, others were not so bent on the rules so that some "unlisted" children, unable to fight for a pair of shoes, got them anyways. I don't want to fight again. I want to give and love and serve without my shortcomings getting in the way of God's work. Maybe somewhere between days 3 and 56 I'll be a few steps closer than I am now.