"Ain't love the sweetest thing?" -Bono

I feel kind of obligated to write a blog about how excited I am about Honduras. Oh, am I EXCITED. But, that's not really what I feel like writing about because, if you know me, you know how excited I am. You know where my heart is.
I've been trying to figure out excitement lately. Before we left for Thailand (feels like just
yesterday), I remember only ever being able to say "I'm stoked, I'm excited, I'm pumped, I'm amped!" and so on...

What does that really mean if you're excited? I don't get it. I know that's ridiculous. It's like asking why the sky is blue. It just is. Excitement means you're just excited. I don't know,

though, I feel like I should feel more than that... & I do. Oh words, how you cheat me. I feel so

peaceful. I've been going CRAZY lately with preparations. Making copies, revising schedules,

making phone calls, stapling, paper clipping, stuffing stuff in folders, organizing, & reorganizing,

revising, revising, revising. YOU KNOW WHAT? I'm peaceful. I know that things are going to

work out. I don't care about the crafts, I don't care about the games, I don't care about the kids

learning English. I want to show these kids the very love of Christ. Those are just the ways I'm choosing to do that. Those are merely tools. Organization, being prepared--these aren't my goals. These are stepping stones getting us to our ultimate goal. Our goal of sharing the love of Christ with every child we come in contact with. Every person we come in contact with.

Our theme for the week in Honduras is creation (I all of the sudden put all the team members on Blog spot at a slight advantage.. you lucky ducks). I looked over the curriculum last night & it talks about basic stuff (God reveals Himself through creation, God is glorified by creation, God created everything in 7 days, etc). It reminded me of a poem I wrote once about being God's work of art.

art of love

oh and you've made us such beautiful people
wrapped in crisp sheets of faith around our ankles

finding redemption in submission

and only you could stroke our hearts in such a manor

that the breeze screams out your name

my hair caresses the dome of my shoulder

you've made my eyes to reveal your dwelling place in my heart

from the shadows on my neck to the curl of my toes

you painted me, your portrait

i feel the bristles of the brush as you stroke me into existence

you texture me throughout the canvas of your glory

my voice it sings your name

my arms they want to reach you

i stretch each fine muscle in my body

in hopes of embracing your nature

and every time i sing that tune

every time i sketch that daydream

every time i paint that fantasy

i feel you.

oh yes, i feel you.

from the part of my hair

to the arch of my foot.

you are my dwelling place

take me, I'm yours

your work of art.

my art, your work.

I know, I'm no Robert Frost.
Anyways, I was reading an old article today from the April 2006 publication of National Geographic called "Inside Chernobyl". After I finished reading it I referred back to the chapter in Searching for God Knows What where Donald Miller talks about the "Children of Chernobyl". In a portion of that chapter he mentions a boy named Sasha who is severely deformed as a result of the Chernobyl devastation. I googled Sasha's picture expecting to be repulsed and humbled. Nope, Sasha is BEAUTIFUL. Not to our standards. Put him next to an ordinary human & he looks deformed. But if you look in Sasha's eyes you'll see his beauty.

"you've made my eyes to reveal your dwelling place in my heart"

His childlike creativity. He's not even smiling but I know that he holds great things in that bound up heart of his. It amazes me that the Devil can mark all over God's sketch of the world & even still, His glory is evident, His beauty shines through. Satan can take Sasha's body, but he can't touch Sasha's spirit.

That is beauty, friends.