Worth it

Well, the one-year mark (my Hondo-versary, if you will,) came and went, and I’m not sure how that happened. Although I continue to learn and grow each day, I have also found a sense of home and comfort in the Ranch and the kids. While I am recognized and greeted by many, I manage to befriend someone new almost every day or further nurture a previously established relationship. I still strive to become a stronger Spanish speaker, although I am relieved to feel more comfortable expressing myself in my second language.

In the weeks leading up to my departure to Honduras, now almost 14 months ago, I was nervous and overwhelmed. I followed my weekly to-do lists, but still felt as though it could not all be done. One frenzied afternoon, I allowed myself a quick break to shower before moving on to my next carefully planned task. I remember my sister stopping in the bathroom to grab something, and I may have snapped at her for interrupting my few minutes of peace. When I stepped out of the shower, however, I found an iced coffee with a note on the counter. My sister and I came to love summer iced coffee runs, and in my state of stress and worry, she could not have offered a better gift. I remember reading the note and thinking, “Gosh, Marissa, I hope you’re right.”

Over a year has passed, and I can finally reflect upon, thank, and validate my sister’s small, but powerful gesture. Marissa, you were right. All the to-do lists, doctor appointments, and errands were worth the stress. All of the worries and fears, the hard goodbyes, and hasty Spanish grammar reviews were worth the stress. All the rough stomach days, the head lice bouts, and bug bites are (still) worth the stress.

I cannot say I have loved every single day. I have cried, I have missed (and still miss) home, I have been so frustrated I wonder what on earth I am doing here. But by the end of each hard day, God always manages to send me some form of affirmation or joy. It has come in the form of my fellow volunteers slowly becoming my family, a hug or declaration of love from a child, or a text from family or friends at home. It has come in the form of my wonderful friends and family coming to visit, or the opportunity to see Honduras and Central America.

Exploring Lago de Yajoa, Honduras

It has been so worth it that I decided I wasn’t quite ready to leave in July. After countless pro/con lists, prayers, and deliberations, I officially requested to extend as the speech-language pathologist for 6 months longer. With all of the new children who had arrived in November and December, I finally felt settled with their evaluations and therapy schedules, and wanted more time to gain a sense of their communication. I wanted more time to foster relationships with my family on the Ranch. Most of all, I wanted more time with my girls. I know I cannot stay here forever, but I feel incredibly lucky to be able to remain on the Ranch for longer than I had originally planned. I still sometimes have moments of panic and think I need to leave and start my career in the US. But I trust that this is where I need to be, and everything will work out the way it is supposed to. And I continue to learn and grow, professionally and personally, with each therapy session and night in hogar.

Many of you already knew, but for those of you who didn’t, I apologize for not sharing with you sooner. It’s officially official: Leff is going to stay on an adventure for a little while longer. I thank you for your continued love, interest, prayers, and support in this crazy, beautiful life I’m able to lead. 

Two of the cutest reasons (three, if you include my wonderful Suyapa co-volunteer, Christina) why I wasn't quite ready to leave.