Same Bridge... Deeply-Changed Family
2010 - Waits Family - Aidan (10), Arlee (7), Adam (4) & Aaron (3)
I haven't seen this photo in 8 years. My aging brain jumps into memory mode and I remember...
It is 2010. I am fresh from the US... plucked out of my comfortable soil and roughly planted in temporary soil of La Ceiba, Honduras for language school. The language comes slowly. everything seems challenging and unknown.
My babies... 4 of them taking this new journey on with nervous excitement. My husband, strong for the task, encouraging us all to look for what awaits and always in need of God's grace and mercy.
We live with a beautiful Honduran couple... limited privacy, hot to redefine my concept of hot, new foods, stubborn stomachs, studying and practicing.
We take a weekend to head up into the mountains. Rio Cangrejal. God's barely-touched beauty before our eyes.
A photo is snapped.
2018 - Waits Family - Aidan (18), Arlee (15), Adam (12) & Aaron (11)
It is 2018. I am a multitude of complexity... always Northamerican, yet forever changed by Honduras and her people, forever a part of a forgotten region called the Miskito Coast. The language flows fluid, the challenges and unknowns still come.
My babies... there are 5 of them now. 5 people with strength, dignity, struggles and victories. My husband and me ... worn, battle-weary and still in deep need of God's grace and mercy.
We have traveled far to be able to spend a few days together. Our oldest is now on his own, yet longing for the smells, tastes and welcome of the country who loved and raised him. He travels 24 hours to reach us. We travel a few hours to reach him. Together again.
We are back in Rio Cangrejal. God's barely-touched beauty before our eyes.
A photo is snapped.
We proceed up the mountain. Within an hour or so, we reach the first waterfall. Enormous blue butterflies flutter. Clear, cold water. Coolness on our skin. Peace.
First Waterfall
An hour later, my body says no. I cannot walk another step. My 6-year-old climbs like a little mountain goat. My 11-year-old scampers up the trail. My 12-year-old grins from ear to ear at his success. My teenagers are experts. Alex stays behind with me as we tell them to go on.
I am the weak link on this day.
I take small steps, teeny-tiny baby steps, sure that I am going to reach the goal, stubborn that I will not cause Alex to miss the beauty of the large waterfall.
30 minutes later, my 15-year-old comes back. She literally pulls me up the mountain. Over big rocks, slippery stumps, on a very small trail.
I smile at the beauty of this human being who leads me... never ashamed of my weakness, sure of our capacity together to both reach the summit.
The Big Waterfall
8 years changes things. 8 years changes bodies... some get stronger, others a bit weaker. 8 years change dreams.
8 years cannot change love. It cannot change commitment. It cannot change faith.
And, 8 years absolutely cannot change family!
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