2020

We took the kids camping for a week. 22 kids. 19 adults. 6 days. 5 nights. It was unlike any other camping trip I’ve ever been on. Were there bugs? Tons. Tarantulas as big as my fist? Yep. Was the air fresh and the freedom to be outside all day exactly what my spirit was craving? Without a doubt. Were the showers filthy and the water cold? Absolutely. Did we question whether the swimming hole was sanitary enough to allow our children to jump in, mouths wide open like children do? You got it. And did we still allow them to jump in anyway? It wouldn’t be camping if we didn’t. But then there were a whole lot of unexpected moments. Our cook brought a huge speaker system, and blasted dance music around the clock. You couldn't even hear the chirping of the locusts or the howling of the coyotes. The camp was situated on a working farm, so every day the buses brought in a load of farm workers with their 5-gallon buckets for a day of picking chili pe

This summer 11 kids have left Sonshine Hacienda. Three new kids joined us. And another one came and left again within a matter of 24 hours. It has been emotionally exhausting. Randy was particularly close to 3-year-old Pamela who left. And I to 12-year-old Brayan. Pamela started and ended each day running into Randy’s arms, batting her eyes for an extra helping of food, throwing her head back when she laughed. She left a huge hole in our family. Brayan and I would talk about whatever was on his mind each evening as we cleaned the dining room. Sometimes that was him wondering what high school would be like in a few years, or whether or not his brother and aunt would come to visit him this weekend, or if he could be involved in sports or other activities outside the casa. He would tell me about the other children’s homes where he had lived, ones that also had American missionaries, ones that allowed video games (we do not), ones that also had trampolines like ours.