A Tourist

That's how I felt. Just a plain ole tourist, stopping by for a visit. It's like I was a bumble bee, flitting from flower to flower or rather town to town. Never slowing down, never stopping, never meeting people longer than a flash in time. I felt a constant ebbing, "Come on, we need to see it all, we need to do it all!"

Yet as every tourist's vacation continues on, they begin to long for home. "Well," they think, "this has been fun, I've seen lots, but I am ready to go back." Vacation cannot last forever. They told me, at about 3-4 weeks in, it would hit you. Homesickness. I whispered to myself, "Nah, I'm LOVING this tourist life! Why would I miss home? Miss home? That's for weaklings, simpletons, not newly married wives on the bring of a brand new adventure!" Ask Jordan how I was doing at Week 3...

By then, I found a reason to complain or cry about anything, to avoid thinking of my blessings, to avoid the hurt. It's cold. It's rainy. My heart is still at 'field Zone and walking the halls of Birney. This is definitely NOT the land of eternal spring... helllooo, I signed up for tro-pi-cal! Kelli is going to Detroit, it's the first time ever that I haven't been there, I need to be there, too. How come the year I come down here, it is the rainiest season in all of Guatemala's history, topping at 7 feet so far and not expected to stop anytime soon? I hate doing laundry, because I hate hanging clothes! I loved Christmas before, it really is the best, but now that it means I get to go home, is it December, yet? November?

And then, I heard it. Myself.

The ugly black crawled in - albeit, I let it - and took over my poppy red. (Seems like a good enough color for me.) I let that door slip open a tiny millimeter, I complained it was cold, and Satan slipped right in (he didn't even warm me up, geez, how rude). I need to apologize to my husband, and more importantly, to my Lord.

And now, I can hear it. Him.

Stop. Wait. Look. I've put you here. I have put you here. You see that little girl, the one who's mother passed away? She needs you. You see those students, they are teenagers literally caught between two worlds? They need you. See your husband, waiting patiently for you to come around? He needs you. You see my creation? You serve in it. I can tell, you're a bit mixed up. You have prayer warriors all over and you have Me, that is all you need. Wait and I will renew your strength.

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As I sat down to write this post, I remembered an Oldie that I heard on the radio when I was little, about a "traveling man." So, I opened YouTube and searched and Ricky Nelson popped right up. I thought to myself, "Oh yes! That's it! I'll use the words from this song to describe how I feel." I'm not sure how many of you know and remember the words to Ricky's sweet crooning tune. If you do, you are probably laughing at me right now, because you know that leaving the heart of a different pretty girl from town to town does not quite describe my situation.

Last weekend, we went on a retreat with our tenth graders. The wonderful hosts shared this with us and I make it my prayer for you and I ask that you make it your prayer for me... That Christ may reveal in us the ability to see through His eyes.

Before I sign off, stop by and visit Ricky Nelson on YouTube.

Much love, Rachel

P.S. We are so excited as home is coming to us. Brie is coming down the October 13th for a long weekend and Mom and Dad (Underwood) come down the 22nd! We're waiting on the rest of you, let's go, time to get on that!

P.P.S. For those of you who read our blog to find out about the dog, Risa is fine :)

Risa's Guate

It's Risa, the dog (best in the world). I know, I know, a little anticlimactic, you wanted to hear from my “parents” - not me. But, listen, they're a tad busy and so I thought I would do this for them. Ya know, try to help out a little. Basically, you either take what I'm offering or leave it. That's right, you can click the little X on your screen anytime, but truly, I think you'd be interested in what I have to say.

It's been quite the crazy few weeks – my parents are always coming and going. To get them back for it, I try to wake them up every morning at about 6, it keeps them fresh, plus, they feed me to get me to leave them alone. Works every time. Then, at night, I'm brave now, so I go up on the roof and bark at all the dogs. I always hear my parents calling my name, I think they miss me when I go up there. Absence does make the heart grow fonder.

When we first got here, after my encounters with scary airport people and loud engines, they had Teacher Orientation and they would leave me in my kennel. Those days were the best, because they would come home at lunch to play. I overheard them talking that they learned a lot of new teaching techniques, I'm glad it was useful. Now, their lunch break is shorter and I've proven my maturity, so they leave me in the family room instead of the crate. I pretty much tricked them into letting me out of the kennel by chewing up one of my crate pillows and, boy, were they unhappy. But, boy, did it work...humans. And when they are home, I don't get on the furniture, but, when they leave or go to bed, I definitely only sleep on the couches. They made me a bed of hard pillows and scratchy quilts! Couch versus pillows and quilts, couch versus pillows and quilts; like I said...humans. Now, they come home right after school to let me out or take me back with them. I prefer to stay at home, school is a little scary, especially during basketball practice.

I know my “mom” is teaching K-2, Middle School, and High School Physical Education and English 10. They keep her pulling her hair out, but I know she is enjoying them. As for my “dad,” he's even busier than mom... he's teaching the same classes as last year (Bible 9, US History 8, Economics - 2nd Semester, High School Physical Education, and Weights Elective), but he even picked up a sixth! He's also doing Bible 10, my parents enjoy the 10th graders.

I met a few of them this weekend. 11 of them (half of the whole class) came over to help paint our bedrooms. I didn't have much fun that day, they were all loud. I kept trying to get under the bed, instead, I accidentally ran into the wall and covered myself in paint. Mom spent the better part of the next few days picking the paint out of my fur... oops.

Dad is still doing piano lessons after school, volunteering at the youth group and leading worship on Sunday nights at church. Mom signed up to be the assistant basketball coach and she loves it, but she will be excited for the end of the season. I'm the mascot, they even named a play after me!

Pray for my parents, they need it. Mom's been a little sick and really hurt her back after painting. And dad, he's just so busy... he does play with me every night though, don't worry. They are going to cut back because it's too much. There is always work to be done in ministry, but they can't tackle it all.

Shoot, gotta run, they'll be home soon and the roofs are calling me. We love all of you!

PS: Tell Bella I'm learning some Spanish, I'll share it with her when I come home. Te amo, chica!