This brief trip home culminates and continues (can both of those happen at the same time and be correct?) a vision God gave our youngest daughter while she served in Helene with us for two years. Susanna came to Helene with her sisters and parents in 2004 having just finished her sophomore year in high school. Her routine before she arrived in Honduras included homeschooling, working at a local pharmacy and constant involvement with her friends. Like most teenagers, she had acquired her driver's license which greatly aided our schedule as she played on not one, but two basketball teams. Her life was full already, living four miles from the Atlantic Ocean, babysitting, and actively embracing relationships of all ages. After the second week of living on an island accessible only by an international flight, followed by an hour in a van and then a 35 minute boat ride, it was understandable to say she was in another world.
For the first two weeks, she isolated herself in front of her computer to constantly IM her friends (before Facebook). Her dad and I came to her and grounded her computer use. "Back home is not your focus. It's time to get out and begin your ministry." And she did just that...her ministry. On our staff each person has responsibilities that are specific to them. There are not just jobs to be done. It is something that represents who you are. Since Susanna had learned some sign language, she was a terrific help to her mom who was the kindergarten teacher. One of the little girls in the class was deaf from a childhood fever. Susanna taught her some signs and they had great fun with each other. A year later a youth mission team visited our site. Included in the group was a high school teacher of the deaf and 3 deaf high school students. Susanna and our deaf kindergartener were almost constant companions of the four people visiting who used signs to communicate everything. For Susanna it was heaven to interact and learn more about ministry to the deaf from the teacher. To Kiera it was heaven to see other people who relied on signing in real life. She had never been around so many people who "talked" this way. In the weeks to come, Susanna would discover that God had placed her in Helene as a teenager to show her His plan for her life and ministry.
On Sunday Susanna graduated magna cum laude with a degree in deaf education from Barton College. Four days later, she attended orientation for the master's program at the University of Southern Mississippi with a full scholarship. She will be doing her coursework for a year while working at the Magnolia School for the Deaf and then will intern in Memphis, Tennessee at a school for the deaf. She is especially interested in intervention, working with parents whose child has just been disgnosed with deafness. Working with parents who are dealing for the first time with learning how to communicate with their deaf baby is intervention. We can only look to the Lord and praise Him for His hand in her life. It is exciting to see where He will lead her next.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
re-entry in reverse
It is known among the staff here that the week, esp. the two or three days before we return to Helene, can get crazy. Moving from one culture to the other is stress enough without last minute chores, travel issues and just the anxiety of separation from those we love and leave. It's reentry in reverse. Just like the time before a baby is born, it's transition. Usually in this transition I become a basket case, emotional, oversensitive, ridiculous. This return from the states was escalated the “week of” by feverish waiting for a child to be born. This baby had to be born BEFORE I had to returned.
On Monday (June 7) Larry flew back to Honduras. On Tuesday the doctor tells us that if our new granddaughter refuses to arrive, he will meet us at 6 a.m. at the hospital on Thursday to induce; all of his calculations about the baby's weight show that she is a healthy, fullterm baby. Wednesday, the excitement grew as we tackled the To Do List - little things that make for a wonderful homecoming. The other grandparents are called to come, schedule laid out, groceries picked up. Then in the middle of Wednesday afternoon, I receive a frantic call from my sister in Tennessee. She is enroute to the place where our mother with Alzheimer's resides. The administrator has called her to come as soon as possible. They noticed mother had not come to breakfast or lunch and they found her crying in pain in her bed. My sister plans to take her to ER. I plead with her instead to call EMTs and an ambulance. I promise to come immediately if I need to. When she arrived, there was no question about calling 911. On the busiest day her company had had in the last two years, my sister left work and endured 8 ½ hours with our mother, not only answering questions from the doctors, but the endless repetition of our mom's illness. The same questions over and over. After going through tests and diagnostic procedures to discover our mother's pain was a severe infection, all were back home by 1 a.m.
Thursday morning at 11:25 a.m. Felicity was born weighing 8 lbs. 15 oz. I was so honored to be beside my daughter during the birth process. What a joyous event! The next day was homecoming. And then, as subtle as ever, my transition began to process as I realized my visit was completed, my mission for this time was done. God so graciously walked me through the hassle of traveling back to Honduras without tears shed or the longing ache to stay. It was time to return.
Still I leave my sister in charge once again of our mother and her needs, two daughters with their husband/family, and one daughter who has graduated and moved to a new place,and two precious grandchildren. Some missionaries never have the opportunity to be present at graduations, births, emergencies, deaths, etc. I am thankful for all the people in my family's lives that afford me this opportunity to be here.
On Monday (June 7) Larry flew back to Honduras. On Tuesday the doctor tells us that if our new granddaughter refuses to arrive, he will meet us at 6 a.m. at the hospital on Thursday to induce; all of his calculations about the baby's weight show that she is a healthy, fullterm baby. Wednesday, the excitement grew as we tackled the To Do List - little things that make for a wonderful homecoming. The other grandparents are called to come, schedule laid out, groceries picked up. Then in the middle of Wednesday afternoon, I receive a frantic call from my sister in Tennessee. She is enroute to the place where our mother with Alzheimer's resides. The administrator has called her to come as soon as possible. They noticed mother had not come to breakfast or lunch and they found her crying in pain in her bed. My sister plans to take her to ER. I plead with her instead to call EMTs and an ambulance. I promise to come immediately if I need to. When she arrived, there was no question about calling 911. On the busiest day her company had had in the last two years, my sister left work and endured 8 ½ hours with our mother, not only answering questions from the doctors, but the endless repetition of our mom's illness. The same questions over and over. After going through tests and diagnostic procedures to discover our mother's pain was a severe infection, all were back home by 1 a.m.
Thursday morning at 11:25 a.m. Felicity was born weighing 8 lbs. 15 oz. I was so honored to be beside my daughter during the birth process. What a joyous event! The next day was homecoming. And then, as subtle as ever, my transition began to process as I realized my visit was completed, my mission for this time was done. God so graciously walked me through the hassle of traveling back to Honduras without tears shed or the longing ache to stay. It was time to return.
Still I leave my sister in charge once again of our mother and her needs, two daughters with their husband/family, and one daughter who has graduated and moved to a new place,and two precious grandchildren. Some missionaries never have the opportunity to be present at graduations, births, emergencies, deaths, etc. I am thankful for all the people in my family's lives that afford me this opportunity to be here.
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