(no subject)
I'm back from Honduras... and I miss it already. I honestly wish I could've stayed there. I woke up in my bed and hoped I was dreaming. I wish I could go back. I wish I could have experienced more. I wish I would have been more open to experience more. I miss everything, even the cold showers. I miss the little Honduran kids who always stood outside the hotel wanting to play with us. I miss going to the schools and playing with the little kids; and surprisingly I even miss the crusades. Everyone had such great experiences at them except for me, but I still wish we were back there so that at least they could all still be experiencing them. I miss Jim the missionary/translator. I wish I could just wake up in Honduras and realize coming home was just a dream, but wishing does nothing. So it looks like I'm stuck in the reality of here and now. But I think its funny how I went there to touch the Honduran people, but yet they touched me more than I did them.