Sunday, September 14, 2014

Heels or no Heals

So the dog barked all night.  Our sweet little puppy has found his voice.  This is the third night of his barking marathon.  So I am awake at 4 a.m.  I finally dozed back off, but it is time to get up and running.  It is Sunday.  So I drink my cup of tea, and wonder how terrible it would be if I stayed at home, but I hear all my little ones getting ready, so I get up and make my bed and my face and get dressed.  I don't want to miss a blessing.

I had cleaned up my room yesterday after my Guatemala trip and I found a skirt I hadn't worn in a while, so I get the shoes that I also haven't worn in a while.  They were heels. I usually wear boots, that have flat heels, especially this time of year, but opted for the high heels to do something different. Besides, they matched my skirt.  I felt pretty perky around the house, but I knew the trek from the front door to the car was coming.

The dicey thing is getting out my door, in the rocks and the mud and getting to the bus that is parked near the kitchen.  I succeed, and am feeling pretty smart and I hop into the driver's seat on the bus and it won't crank.  So I get back out of the bus and walk cautiously back to the house in my heels and get the Hilux.   I get the truck and park it in front of the bus, open the hood, yank out the jumper cables and start connecting everything.  I remember that the negative black connection is SIN and the positive connector is the BLOOD of Jesus, so I don't blow up the battery.  I made this up so I wouldn't forget.

I get everything connected and wait and wait and write a post of Facebook about my predicament on my Status and ask for prayer.  The bus finally fires off, I fire off my post on FB.   I put down the hoods, and put everything where it belonged and I put it in drive because now we are pretty late.  The girls and the kids of the community were patiently waiting for us to get going.  We got out the gate and got to go over our new bridge on our new road for the first time.  It was fun to ride down the newly paved road.  I get to the intersection and I find that the road we need to take to get to the church is still being worked on, and so I have to make a big loop and park about a quarter mile away from the church.  Again I am walking in the mud.  I am thinking to myself,  "what good is it if your shoes match your skirt if you are walking in the mud and risking a twisted ankle walking through the rocky road material that is strewn all about"?  Ana is helping me get to our destination and I am stomping through the sludge and we get to the gate of the church and we have to go over a huge mound of  rocks that the road scrapers left out in front of the church gates.  I made it up and then over and then down the incline to the church with the help of Ana.  So now I am feeling pretty much like an old lady.

The special speaker was pretty late too.  He got there way after we did.  He was not wearing heels, but had to walk in also from the designated rocky obstacle course that we had gone through.   He gives a great sermon about how we are all Prince and Princesses and about our Christian lineage.  I say goodbye to everybody, shake hands with the special speaker and physc myself up to go through the rocky gauntlet again.

Thankfully I get to the vehicle and hop in and the light panel came on once and then I remembered I didn't put the jumper cables back in the bus, I had our worker put them in the Hilux where they belonged.  We were dead in the Bus.

I get out and open the hood of the bus and wiggle the cables and nothing.  I am pretty upset with myself for not getting the jumper cables.  I call Don Jacobal, who usually helps me with my bus, and there was no answer.   Cars are coming and going and I can't get the girls on the bus because I parked on the far left so that the bus wouldn't be in the way of oncoming traffic leavingYamaranguila.  It was against the wall of mud and rock that the road scraper left.  So they are standing in the road in all of the church going apparel. The girls call to me that Don Acobal is coming.  He said that he called his son and he would get us going.

While everybody is waiting patiently, the police truck comes by going way to fast for all the people in the road and splatters my skirt.  Nobody else gets splattered but me.  I swirl around and through up my hands and call out with a smile, (so not to lose my Christian witness),  "Gracias" to the police.  It wasn't what Jesus would have done, and neither was a lot of the other attitudes  I had today would he have had either.  I went from feeling pretty perky and pretty smart, to pretty late, and pretty upset with myself, even after the motivational sermon about being daughters of the King.

Anyhow, Don Jacobal's son comes down the road with the wrench we needed, and his secret delight smile knowing that he has the answers to our problems, and unhooked both batteries from each vehicle.  He takes his dad's battery and puts it in our bus and his dad cranks up our bus, then he takes his dad's battery and puts it back into his dad's truck.  (I didn't know you could do that. ) We took off for home with a dead battery.   Something started sounding pretty ragged underneath as we were leaving Yamaranguila,  but when I stopped it went away and I was too mortified to call Don Jacobal again.  We just got home and all the girls pile out of the bus like rats from a sinking ship and looking for food.  I sat writing the other part of this story in my phone.  Both posts disappeared.

So I am writing this again in hopes that I will do better about my attitudes, and my princess-ship.  I am thankful for friends who will stop and help out.  I am thankful for my girls, who didn't make me feel like a nut for leaving my cables, and I am thankful to God for sending exactly what I need when I need it, even when my attitudes are not the best.  Heal me and I will be healed. Save me and I will be saved for thou art my praise

Blessings, from the Heel-less, Humbled, Hungry,  Happy to be Home, Honduran MOM

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