Nostalgia of Sorts

WARNING: This post may not make any sense.

Last night, I had a dream I was back in Guatemala. However, instead of the dream being a new, fictional experience (if that makes sense), it was simply a memory. Instantly, I was back in 2008 at one of the many Guatemalan schools we visited. This particular one was in a cornfield. Have you ever had a dream where you knew it was a real memory, and you knew something important was going to happen within that memory, but you couldn't remember what was going to happen next? (If that previous sentence made any sense to you...you are awesome.) That's basically what was happening to me. We had been driving for a good 45 minutes before we pulled off the road and parked beside a cornfield. After a few moments of confusion, we finally realized that there was a school there...in the middle of the cornfield. Once we made it to the middle, the only structure that we could see was a little shack with a metal roof. The kids had all pulled their desk chairs out of the shack so they could watch us perform dramas. They all seemed so happy and upbeat - completely the opposite of what you would originally think after seeing their conditions. During the dramas, they were all so intently focused on every single move we made. When we finished, the missions team split up into our little groups...and then we went around to talk to the kids. This is when (in my dream) I remembered what was going to happen next. My group went up to a group of three smiling children. After the introductions, we asked them if they had asked Jesus in their hearts. After they said no, we continued to lead them in prayer...then they accepted Jesus! Before we left, I asked them if they needed prayer for anything. One little boy said that his hand was hurting...so we prayed. The little girl said she had a stomachache...so we prayed. However, when we got to the last little boy, he asked if we could pray for his parents to come back and love him again. Apparently, his parents had left when he was a toddler...and he just wanted them to come get him. This was the first time I cried in Guatemala. It was at that moment when I saw how much we really take things for granted. These children were so happy - despite the fact that they had nothing. They were so thankful for every little thing that they had. And yet we are so quick to complain about little things that go wrong in our day to day lives?

Oh goodness.

I miss those kids so much. I wish I could have brought them all home with me.
It really makes me wonder what they're all doing right this very second. Just because I left does not mean that their lives were put on pause (I definitely found this out when I went back to Texas this past summer...how in the world do people grow up SO fast?).

I guess I'll find out someday.

From my trip to Guatemala in the summer of 2009.

Oh goodness. I miss them all.