Amazing Grace

We're back from Nicaragua. My training made a huge difference in what I could do while I was there. We built the walls of a 9 foot high, 43 foot circumference house, which involved literally pouring tons of wet dirt into 50 pound bags and placing them on the ever-growing wall. I wasn't able to work as hard as I would have wanted to or as many hours in a day as I wanted to, but I worked as hard as I could for as many hours as I could. My ankle got increasingly swollen, and has not yet gone back to its normal size.

Now that I'm home, I can get some perspective on the week. When I was there, I would feel guilty when I couldn't keep up. I was fine with other people taking breaks or moving to easier tasks, but I hold myself to a different standard--I think that as one of the leaders of the group, I have to set the standard--work harder and longer than everyone else. I clearly didn't do that. There was a victory in listening to my body. I didn't come home having hurt my leg so badly I would set back my recovery. But I didn't feel good about making the right decisions.

I was somewhat better than I would have been in the past about my nutrition. I didn't have much control over what I ate. We were staying at a retreat center where we ate most of our meals, and there wasn't a choice in terms of what we ate. But I did watch my portions, and focused on eating more of what was better for me. When we did eat out, I don't think I ever ate all of what I ordered--I ate until I was full, which usually meant that 1/4-1/3 of the food was left on my plate. I ate dessert a couple of times and drank beer regularly--after doing physical labor for nearly 8 hours a day in the 90+ degree heat, a beer seemed like the best option for recovery. That and a leisurely swim in Lake Nicaragua. I love that lake.

The scale said I put on 1.4 pounds in the 10 days I was gone. I think I ingested more salt than normal, and expect to be down to the weight I left at in a day or two. I could feel myself wanting to revert to my old habits today, but forced myself to record everything I ate. It wasn't the most nutritious day--I'm exhausted and we have very little food in the house-- a bad combination.

What was the amazing grace? It was the gift the family we were building the house for gave us of letting into their lives and their hearts. It's a four generation family of 34 people, living in their one room homes on property they lease on the lake. Their homes are small and are mainly filled with beds, so they spend most of the day outside. That is their living room, dining room, and kitchen, and it was where we spent our time from 8:30 in the morning to 4 in the afternoon. We got to experience another culture, a different way of life, in a way that tourists rarely do. We could see that while this family lives in poverty far beyond what exists in the United States, they have created lives for themselves that are happy and full of love. The night before we left, I started crying thinking of our home--four bedrooms and three bathrooms for two people. Two more bathrooms than this family of 34 has. And probably more square footage than those 34 people live in.