Inside

     Before I left for Honduras, several people commented to me, “You’re going to get so tan!”  My response was, “Probably not.  I think I’ll be inside a lot.”  Inside.  In my first week here, I have been struck by just how right I was.  I’ve been inside the city, inside houses, inside stores, inside a school, inside a church, inside cars and busses, and, even when I’ve been outside, I’ve still been inside, safely hidden behind a security fence.  It made me think about our hearts and how quick we are to hide our hurts, hopes, and histories safely inside of them tucked away where we hope no one can access them.  We build a security fence around our hearts that’s so strong and high, that sometimes we don’t even let ourselves inside.  

      Ironically, it took getting outside—outside of the city, outside of the bus, outside of the house, outside of the fence, and outside into the beauty of God’s creation—to break into the inside of people’s hearts.  As the school staff and I sat atop an evergreen covered mountaintop, we were asked to share something that was special to us.  A picture, a memory, an object.  The stories that came pouring out one by one were heart wrenching.  Fathers who had passed away or had never been present, the loss of a brother who was like a father, the loss of a spouse, the struggles of being a single parent.  And yet, in the midst of pain, each person was so thankful for the blessings and gifts left behind: a treasured water bottle, a Bible, a son, a photograph, a memory, a promise to be reunited someday in el cielo.  In the beauty of the outside, we saw the painful beauty of the inside of everyone’s hearts.  Most of us cried as we each shared our own story, and some of us cried even more hearing the stories of others.  As we wrapped each other in loving hugs, the wind of the Holy Spirit blew gently around us, and Jesus tenderly wrapped our hearts up, tucking himself inside so he could tend to our every need.  As we descended from the mountaintop, laughter broke out.  The walls were back up, once again hiding the pain inside, but the pain was now a shared pain, the knowledge of it was safe, and Jesus was there inside with it.

     Inside.  It’s a privileged place to be.  It signifies acceptance and belonging.  I am thankful to be safe inside my new home, inside the embrace of my new community, and to have had a glimpse into the inside of some of their hearts.  Once in awhile, though, you may find me outside!  After all, I am a country girl at heart!