My boys

I don’t know how to tell the stories of the things that happen here. Sometimes I feel like I’m gypping those who faithfully read my blog out of getting to experience this with me like I wish you all could, and I want to apologize for that. I guess I just don’t think that words can do it justice. Telling stories has never been one of my fortes and certain things that happen here are tough for me to retell, usually just because I can’t find words that are sufficient enough to communicate my experiences and how the people here touch my heart with what they say and do. Also, some days there are just too many things to write down. But I can tell you that any story I could possibly tell about the things that have happened while I’ve been in Honduras can be summed up by saying this: It’s all about Jesus, it’s all about people, and it’s all about loving both with everything you are.

That being said, I’m want to mention the boys’ home called Veintiuno that we’ve been going to the past few weeks. I really haven’t mentioned much about it, but it has definitely embedded itself in my heart and I think I should share how with you.

From the moment we walk through the door to the moment we leave, I don’t think the smile leaves my face or the faces of the boys who live there. There are about 40-50 boys living there at a time and I don’t know many of their names, but I recognize all of their faces and love each of their hearts. Some of them are troublemakers, some just joke around all the time, some are sweet, some are shy and quiet. Some boys who come to Vientiuno (that’s the name of the boys’ home) have been picked up off the streets, but not all of them are orphans. Some have run away from home. Others come from families who can’t support them because there are too many kids and not enough money, or because the boy has a mental disorder that makes him difficult to take care of. They are all so special. I can’t believe I’m being this sappy, it’s really not me, but I just love them.

We only spend a couple hours at a time there and it always seems to fly by. We bring board games and cards and books to share with them and they just eat it all up. By now it has kind of become standard that I play Skip-Bo with Joel, Bryan, Hector, and whoever else decides to join us. We teach anyone who doesn’t know how to play yet, but it’s always at least the three of us. We just joke around and laugh at each other. Last time Joel and Bryan rapped the whole time we played, a song that is definitely not Jesus-approved, but they were hilarious. All the boys know our names and that we come just to have play and have fun, and I think everyone involved looks forward to the time we spend there. I love to just love them. The more time we’re there, the more I realize how hard it will be for me to leave them behind in just a couple weeks.