Feeling Homeless

This past month I have been thinking a lot about home. Where is my home? What is my home? Honestly, at this point, I have no idea. It has been one year and four months since we moved to Honduras. Considering the fact that I lived the first 31.5 years of my life in the U.S., is not a very long time. There are days when it feels like we have been in Honduras forever and days when it feels like we have just arrived. But, where is my home? Is it in the U.S., the place where I have spent most of my life? Or is it in this new country, that so often feels strange and foreign, but yet so familiar and certain?
I feel so different now than I do when we moved last January. Time has changed me. Experiences have changed me. The changes that I see might not be obvious on the outside, but in my heart, they feel colossal. Things that were important to me then, seem insignificant now. Insignificant things then, seem colossal now. Life in Honduras has changed me.
One huge change is in my cooking. Because of all of the allergies that my girls have and the lack of resources here, I have started to cook most things from scratch. I have started to enjoy cooking (say what?!). Someone told me, within the last month, that I am a good cook. A year ago, I would've laughed at this thought. Today, it feels normal, like something I was always meant to do.
But, I digress ...
Where is home? When I think about going home, where do I think of? I don't think I have one anymore. My family of origin and I are so close. Most days, I miss them so much that it hurts. I long to be with them, living life with them. But, when I think about the possibility of someday moving back to live where they are, I feel joyful at the possibility of being where they are, but I also feel confused because that place no longer feels like home. I have changed: I'm different now. That home no longer fits exactly who I am.
So, then, is Honduras home? My family is here. My house is here. My things are here. My girls are in a routine here. I cook and clean and live here. This is familiar and home for now, yet, somehow, it doesn't feel like home either. Though I have changed and feel like I don't really fit back in the States, I also don't really fit here: my Spanish is still broken, I will never fully understand this culture, I will never be Honduran. Every day I learn more about this culture and assimilate further, but I will always be a foreigner. So, this home still doesn't really fit either.
When we thought about moving to Honduras, we thought a lot about how the move would effect our girls. We knew that it would have benefits and drawbacks. They don't really fit into this Honduran culture and yet they don't really fit into the American culture. Missionary kids are often referred to as third culture kids meaning that they don't really have a culture that they fit into. They are, in a way, culture-less and homeless.
This is something that I had thought about and prayed over for the girls, but wasn't really something that I had given thought to in regards to myself. I assumed that home would always be where home has always been. I have been so surprised to find myself feeling like a third culture adult. I feel homeless, in a way. I feel like no place truly fits me.
So often, I ask the Lord why He brought us to Honduras. I ask Him about His plans and remind Him that I feel confused about His plans for me. But, as I have been thinking and praying this month, I keep coming back to this idea of home and feeling displaced. The Lord has been slowly showing me that this is part of His plan and His purpose. He has plans to use me here in Honduras, yes, but He also has plans to change my heart and to make it and me into something and someone that will glorify Him. So, maybe one of the reasons I am in Honduras is to show me this feeling of homelessness; to allow to me sit in it and live it and experience it. To experience it so that at some point in my life I can better love someone who is homeless too. To experience it so that I can better love my girls when at some point they are overwhelmed with feeling like a third culture kid. But mostly, I think He wants me to experience it so that I will long for Heaven, my true home. Longing for Heaven sounds so cliche or like such a typical "Christian" answer. I was raised in a Christian home, school, church ... I've been around it all so much and sometimes I get callous to the basics of my faith and I take things for granted. Saying that I long for Heaven can sound so "overly Christian". I get so distracted by life and things in front of me that longing for Heaven seems impossible. And the thing is, that is ridiculous. He is what matters. He is the only thing worth living for. He is my all and my everything. Of course He wants me to long for Heaven, because that's all thats worth living for AND that is the only place that I am ever truly going to feel at home.
So, I think that right now, that's what this Honduras thing is about for me. It's about missing family and home and feeling out of place so that I will long for the only place and the only One who can ever really fill me and make me feel at home.

- Katie

Holding on Tight

Does anyone else feel shocked at the passing of time? I remember when I was little, I felt like time dragged on and on .... my birthday only came once a year and I felt like it was an ETERNITY until it came each year. I wanted to "be bigger" and I felt as though I would never arrive. Anyone else?

This week I celebrated another birthday and, now that I'm old (33!!), I feel like the birthdays come faster and faster. It feels the same for my girls ... Kenna turned 6 this month ... SIX!!! How. Did. That. Happen. This morning when I took her to school, we were holding hands and then, as we walked through the school yard, she shook my hand away from hers and wanted to walk without touching me (GASP!!). I knew this day was coming, but now that it is here, I can't believe it. I can remember my dad talking about the first time that I didn't want to hold hands with him. He was so sad. And now, as my sweet Kenna girl shook her hand out of mine, I know how he felt. She is growing up, getting bigger and turning into her own person. So much of that is good. I LOVE the person she is becoming, but I also find myself feeling sad about the change. Change is hard. Good? Yes. Needed? Yes. Hard? Yes.

This morning I've been pondering the growing and changing that I have done and continue to do. I've been thinking about holding my dad's hand ... and holding my heavenly father's hand. I hope that as I continue to grow and change, I continue to grasp His hand, no matter what comes. So often, I am tempted to shake off His hand and go my own way, do it my own way, figure it out on my own. I don't like change because it is uncomfortable and I try to increase my comfort. When I do, I am always left feeling alone and lost; I find myself running back to Him. So this morning, I am asking Him what I can do to keep holding on. What can I do to push back the urge to go it on my own? What are ways that I can remind myself to hold on tight and never let go, to walk with Him even when it hurts? When I do hold on, the change seems so much more manageable. It is still hard and can still hurt like crazy, but it doesn't feel insurmountable, because I know that I am not alone. 

The girls getting a ride to school with Peter

First day of school ... Kinzie had just gotten in trouble and was not happy about smiling for a picture :)

- Katie

One Year

Wow. I cannot believe that this next week marks one year for us here in Honduras. When we arrived, life felt so hard that I wasn't honestly sure if we would make it to a year. And yet, here we are. We made it.

I have been reflecting about the last year; thinking about what I have learned, how we have grown, how we have changed. I have thought about this blog post and known that I wanted to write a post to mark our first year on the mission field, but I have not had any idea what to write. I have read anniversary blog posts and newsletters in the past ... they always have so much wisdom and insight to share. And the thing is, I got nothing. I have no real wisdom or insight. But, these are the things that I know about the last year:

1. Our family grew. We added one whole person. And just like that, we are a family of six. Six. Holy moly. 
2. Traveling with four kids, five and under is INSANE.
3. I am not as tough as I used to think I am ... life is hard and I can be a big wuss. 
4. Marriage is hard. It is amazing and rewarding and full of blessing, but like anything worth doing, it is hard.  
5. Living, working, and existing in super hotness with no AC or relief from the heat is exhausting. And it makes me grumpy.
6. Learning another language is a process, one that I am not sure I will ever master.
7. God's creation is INCREDIBLE. I am blown away by the beauty of the ocean, the flowers, the lush green of the jungle. The sounds of the birds, the monkeys, the insects is unlike anything I have ever experienced. I am grateful for God's creativity and love enjoying His creation.
8. I am no different than anyone else who is working hard to be obedient and follow where the Lord has called them. So often, people tell me how amazing I am for doing what I'm doing with my family. And while my ego likes to hear it and I always appreciate the kind words, I always want to disagree. What our family is doing is hard and challenging, but life is hard a challenging. God calls us as Christians to hard and challenging things because that is where we are forced to be dependent on Him. My difficult thing looks different than your difficult thing. But, God calls us all to different things. If you are chasing after Him and following where He is leading, He is pleased. I need to stop comparing myself. I need to keep chasing Him and keep being obedient. 
9. Just because I am being obedient to where God is leading me does not mean that I will be happy all the time. Duh. (Does anyone even say Duh anymore? Gosh, I'm old.) I don't know why I thought that if I followed God to the mission field, I would suddenly be happy all the time. I knew that things would be hard, but I thought that I would be happy in the midst of the hard stuff. That's called joy. And it doesn't just come. I have to work for it. I have to keep my eyes on Jesus. I have to daily, often moment-by-moment, choose joy. 
10. God is good. All the time. Even when it doesn't feel like it. Even when I want to give up. Even when I don't understand. He is good.  

It has been a year unlike any other. I have experienced so many different emotions ... joy, sorrow, peace, anxiety, ... too many to list. Though it has been hard, I wouldn't trade the last year for anything.  I am so grateful for how the Lord has brought me through it and taught me to rely on Him more every day.

- Katie

Pictures!

Some pictures from the past few months!

Hammock Baby

Flower girl

Koley washing her hands at our friends' house

I love Kyler's terrified look in this pic ... "mom, how could you do this to me?!"

School time!

Climbing

Hiking

Kite time!

Softball

Watching softball

Paper chain countdown for Grandma and Grandpa's arrival

Peter and a medical student who has been shadowing him at the hospital

Katie and our wonderful friend Mackenzie

This month Kinzie has started drawing this smiley face on every surface of our house

School time

Learning to dress herself

We miss all of you so much! Thank you so much for being a part of our lives! We love you!!

No toys

Wow ... Has it really been two and half months since our last blog post?? Time has been both crawling and flying. We are settling into life with four kids and emerging from the bubble that seems to come with every new baby. Kyler is sleeping better (I sure hope I didn't just jinx it) which makes life for all of us much more pleasant. Praise Jesus!

I haven't written a post about parenting before, because frankly, parenting is overwhelming ... I feel like I never quite get it right ... I'm never quite where I want to be in this whole parenting thing. But, I have been learning and observing and I am blown away by my girls lately.

About a year and a half ago, I read a blog written by this mom who had recently taken away all of her kids toys. She was tired of cleaning them up so she took them away. All of them. Say what? I thought she must be insane ... I mean, did she want her kids to ever play by themselves? Or get along? Or survive? I thought to myself that I would NEVER be able to do that. I judged her. Ha.

I have said to Peter a few times in the last three months how much I don't want to judge other people and the choices they make, especially in their parenting ... Every single time I have judged someone else and how they parent, I have found myself doing the exact same thing at some point down the road. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. The Lord must just chuckle when He sees me, my judgy (is that even a word?) thoughts, and the future because He just knows what is to come.

Anyways, when we moved to Honduras we got rid of a lot of toys. A lot. But, we still brought some. I wanted the girls to be able to feel at home when we arrived and so I brought the things that they loved the most - dress ups, books, dolls, and a few stuffed animals. I am glad we did that because I really think it helped them with the transition. But lately, I have become so sick of cleaning up toys and asking for them to clean up toys that I did the same thing. I packed up all of their toys and put them away. Everything except for books went up and away in the closet. And, you know what? That mom whose blog I read was a genius. My girls were upset at first, but other than the initial push back, they haven't noticed. They have been playing outside, playing in their room, and actually figuring out how to get along. They have been so much more creative and have been working out arguments among themselves so much better. I am loving seeing their creativity. Today, they have made tents and explored outside. They made a "fire pit" and a talking circle. It has only been a week since we made this change, but I couldn't be happier. I am interested to see if there are other changes in them as time goes on.

Today, I am impressed with and thankful for simplicity. Sometimes the simple life is more difficult and challenging, but I am learning to be grateful for it and to take joy in it. Today, I am thanking God for how He works and what He is teaching me through the lives of my girls. (I'm also trying hard to decrease the judgments that I make today knowing that soon they will come back to get me ;). )

Tent time! 

They found the rocks, the sticks, the chairs, and the towels from around our house to make their very own fire pit :)

- Katie

She's Here!

We are excited to announce the arrival of our daughter, Kyler Seraphim Stockton. She has been such a joy. We are so grateful that the Lord blessed us with another little life. Adjusting to life with four has been, honestly, a bit overwhelming, but we are slowly figuring out our new normal. The other girls are smitten with their new sister and continually beg to hold her and love on her.

While we were in Phoenix, we had the opportunity to have our pics taken by an incredible photographer, Mel Bosna of Lulliloo Photography. My sister-in-law entered an online contest that Mel was offering for a free mini-session. My sister-in-law won and then gifted it to me as an early Christmas present because she knows that I love Mel's work. What a fun gift! And even more fun that we got to have them taken after Kyler had arrived so they are of our new family of six.

Thank you so much, Lulliloo Photography, for having a giveaway and capturing our family so well :) And thanks, Kimber, for such a fun Christmas gift :)

The Insignificant Things

Have you ever noticed that life is hard? Peter and I have been talking so much about this lately. It seems that no matter where we go, who we meet, or who we talk to, life is hard. It doesn't seem to matter what kind of background people come from. Rich, poor, Honduran, American ... life is hard and it hurts. The cause of the pain and the pain itself may look different, but the pain and the difficulty is there everywhere I turn.

Here in Honduras we see so much extreme poverty and so much death. It can feel overwhelming at times. For me, my role in this poverty can be confusing. How am I to help the community? What can I do to truly ease the pain? Anything? Nothing? At times, it feels that the weight of the poverty and desperation I see all around me is resting on my shoulders.

Today I went down to the hospital to have lunch with Peter. When I was there, I saw a mom who had her baby with her: a baby that obviously had some type of disability. The baby was large yet unable to move correctly. The mom seemed to be struggling to hold the baby. She was poor. She was there alone. Hurt radiated from her. I didn't know what to do or how to help. I felt powerless. At the time, my own baby was screaming bloody murder, so I needed to get home. I prayed for her and her baby and asked the Lord to give me another chance to talk with her, to minster to her. And then I drove home, IN MY CAR, to a beautiful house that has electricity, a clean bathroom, and a kitchen full of food. Yes, we have sacrificed to live in Honduras, but still we have so much. And I prayed, Lord, why me? Why was I born into the family that I was? Why was I born into the opportunity that I was? Why not that mom? Why not her baby?

"To him who has been given much, much will be required." And I think, the Lord is requiring a lot from me. But, just because he is requiring a lot from me, does not mean that I know what He is asking. I am not someone who feels like I hear the Lord speaking to me very often. But, I do know that the more I listen and free myself from distraction, the more I feel His gentle promptings throughout the day. I don't often feel a strong sense of a big vision or direction that He is leading. Usually it is just a small promoting or feeling that He wants me to act, a person he wants me to reach out to: to give food, to write an email, to give a hug, to offer a smile.

I am not a naturally extroverted or overly-friendly person (if you didn't know who was writing this post, now you know it's Katie :) ) so these small things often feel huge to me. It is hard for me to reach out, hard for me to lead, hard for me to initiate, especially with someone I don't know well. Usually the Lord and I have a conversation about how I don't want to do whatever he is asking, he continues to prompt and so I obey. I doubt his ability or desire to use me so much of the time. And often the things that He asks of me seem so insignificant. I pray and trust that He knows better than I do, that He will take my "insignificant" efforts and make them significant.

And as much as I hate and don't understand the poverty and the hurting, I am choosing today to obey, to help, to reach out, and be Jesus in whatever small ways I can. The things that I am doing will not right the injustices that I see or take away pain and poverty, but I'm praying that He will take the small and insignificant things and make them significant.


- Katie