The Hardest Part of Being an MK

I think the hardest part of being an MK is not fitting in. It is hard not to fit in in general but when you’re an MK you can’t even try to fit in it seems. Already I don’t fit in in the country I am currently living in: Honduras. I’m white, I have blue eyes and blondish hair, and I act “gringa.” I can’t fit in; I’m constantly stared at because I’m different. I’m constantly singled out because I walk differently than any Honduran. There is no chance of me fitting in here! I don’t fit in in the country I was born: the United States. I may look like an American but I think differently now, I act a tiny bit ‘off’ compared to the average American teenager. I dress differently; when I walk around and see girls wearing make-up all the time to look 17 when the kids are like 10 or I see girls wearing shorts that are so short they’re now underwear or shirts that are basically bras, I definitely don’t fit in. I go back to my native country and people are constantly on their phones, barely looking up, I don’t fit in. I may look like them but I’m way different. At my school I don’t fit in, I’m one of the ones who doesn’t party and get drunk on the weekends, I go to church on Sundays, I’m not going to have sex until I’m married, I’m not a total oddball and my friends love me (at least I hope so). School is one of the places where I fit in the most though, I don’t have to pretend to be someone else, they don’t care that I’m from the USA and they accept me and my beliefs. But still some days, when a person will come over to invite two of my closest friends and my best friend to a party and look right over me, knowing I’ll say no and be ‘no fun,’ it kind of hurts to not fit in. I think the hardest one is when I don’t fit in even with other MKs. This one hurts the most because here are people like me, experiencing similar things and even then I don’t fit in. We went to a missionary retreat that occurs every year and I was so happy to see some of the friends I made the year before, when I arrived there were some new MKs and I was excited to meet some new people. However, that’s not what happened, the new people all knew each other and had inside jokes and didn’t include me or my sister. I’m shy but I pushed myself to go and ask to play cards with them and when we started it wasn’t too fun because there were too many people so it trickled to a stop. When they stopped, they started telling stories they all knew and I hated being the outsider so I got up and left. I didn’t like not fitting in so I went to find someone else to hang out with. I was

very disappointed as I thought this retreat was going to be fun and I was going to spend my time with the cool MKs I met the year before, but that didn't happen. I hated that time, I’m used to not fitting in in Honduras, in the States, and sometimes at school, but this was the first time I didn’t fit in with other MKs. I love being an MK and wouldn't trade it for the world, but a challenge of being an MK is not fitting in. I thank God for giving me the strength to deal with this challenge and I thank Him for being there with me through it all.

Goodbye, until next time!

Thankful for Friends

This morning as I spent my daily time with God, I found myself thanking him for all of the wonderful friends that he has placed in my life. When I usually pray, I’ll ask for some things and thank him for some things. I want to make sure I’m thanking Him just as much as I’m asking things of Him. But today I thanked Him for the friends that are physically still in Honduras and then for those that have moved away. I don’t usually thank Him for all the friends he’s placed in my life. I usually thank Him for the friends that have stayed in Honduras, not the friends that have moved away too. I just noticed that I was actually happy to have so many great friends, whether they are still in country or far away. It was nice to be happy and thankful about this.

I had always complained about friends leaving me. I had always cried out to God asking Him how He could have them get close to me and then move away. I hate goodbyes and saying goodbye to the closest of friends is quite difficult. I've had seven of my closest friends move away. I could also count the day I moved to Honduras and left my closest friend behind as number eight but I think it’s harder for the people left behind than the people who leave. It’s so much more painful when you have to stay as the people you love leave, and so that’s why I say seven. But, back to the point, I would ask God over and over again why He would let those people leave. I never understood why He let them go. I definitely cried over several of these people’s departures, not sure when I would see them again or even if I would see them again. That kind of realization hurts. What person would want someone you love to leave without any certainty of meeting them again? So I repeatedly wondered why God would allow this to happen to me, especially when I so desperately wanted and needed close friends.

I feel really foolish for this constant wondering why these people left, mainly because all of these people are still in my life and I am still in contact with them. I also feel foolish because I was so hooked on focusing on the people leaving that I missed the people that have stayed or the new friends I have made as the others moved away. I was sad that my closest friends left so I didn't see all the amazing friends I currently have in Honduras nor the fact that I’m still in contact with the people who've left. I’m not speaking to all seven every day nor every month but I’ll say hello and ask questions about how they’re doing every once and a while. I speak to some more than others but it isn't mandatory to talk to them every moment of every day. I’ll see pictures and statuses about their lives and I’m happy that I get to see that. I've seen most of them after they left and there isn't any awkwardness, everything is great. For some, I’m not as close to them as I was when they still lived in Honduras but the ones that I consider best friends, I’m still close to.

I can’t believe I questioned God’s plan. I mean people do it all the time; we question everything God is doing as if He’s against us. Which, when it’s phrased like that, sounds silly. I question things that God is doing instead of just laying back and allowing Him to take charge and then follow His lead. And when I say I’m letting Him take control, I tend to hold on a bit to the thing I say I’m letting go of. Why? I guess it’s just hard to think of someone taking full control and to trust that person wholeheartedly. But He isn't just someone, He is the Someone. So no matter how many people move away, whether I stay close to them or not, I shouldn't question His planning. Instead I should be thankful for all the people who are here in Honduras with me and then be thankful for all the friends who have moved away and who've still stayed friends with me. Yes it’s sad to have people move but that shouldn't be the reason why I don’t trust that He has it all worked out. There shouldn't be any reason why I wouldn't trust Him. I should just trust Him. He made me, loves me, takes care of me, planned my life for me, and watches over me. I love Him and want to follow Him to the best of my ability, wholeheartedly. Love and trust go hand in hand, so if I love Him then I must trust Him too. So from this day forward I will trust God with anything and everything that comes my way. It’ll be hard but nonetheless I will try my best to trust Him in all that I do.

Goodbye, until next time!

The West Coast Adventure

I went to the West Coast for the first and only (at least for now) time in the summer of 2012. I woke up at around 4 a.m. with my sister and parents and we drove to the Connecticut Bradley International Airport. That day was the first time I would fly without adult supervision. It would just be my sister and I. I was in charge of getting her and myself all the way to San Francisco, California. I went thinking that an adult would assist us along the way, but because I was 15, I was too old to attain assistance even if my sister was only 13. So we set off for the beginning of an adventure. We flew to the Chicago airport where we changed planes to arrive in the San Francisco airport where we would be picked up by strangers who were our host family for our week in California.

The whole reason we were flying to California was for an international choir competition called the Golden Gate International Children’s Choral Festival. We were the first Latin American country asked to this competition, the first time a Honduran choir was asked to an international competition, and the first time our Discovery Choir was asked to something this big. It was a huge deal for us as a choir; it was also an amazing opportunity. It would be a week-long competition where our choir would compete against several other countries’ choirs and where our soloists would also compete against other countries’ soloists. After the competitions, all the choirs would sing a couple songs as one whole choir, all 300 kids or so, at the Zellerbach Hall. The three best choirs would then perform that night along with the three best soloists. It was an extraordinary experience.

My sister and I arrive in San Francisco and are picked up by a couple who will be our host family. They were really nice; they took us on a little tour of San Francisco, showing us several amazing spots in the city, we then went to Berkeley where the competition would actually be taking place and where the couple lived. In Berkeley, they also gave a mini tour of the town; it was a nice entry into California. We spent the night there and the next day we went to meet the rest of our choir (since they flew directly from Honduras) and then went to the buildings where we would spend most of time preparing and competing. That night we had one of our choir members join us at our host house, he stayed for the night and then went to stay with his mom. That day we asked if we could also leave because we felt uncomfortable at out host’s house, they were really nice it was just odd. We were then moved to be with one of my closest friends and her mom and sisters. We remained with them for the rest of the time we spent in San Francisco. My sister and I had a blast with them, we went shopping in San Francisco, we stayed up until 10 spitting milk and getting ice cream wasted, laughing until our sides hurt, we drove packed into a small car to and from the place we stayed to the buildings where we competed. I had a blast that week!

Our choir sang and competed using typical Honduran songs, dresses, and even a dance. It was a lot of fun. We ended up with a bronze placing in two categories at the festival. For our first international competition it was an amazing accomplishment. I happened to represent Discovery as a soloist along with two other close friends. I sang Ave Maria by Franz Schubert in Latin and Luna Llena by Guillermo Anderson in Spanish and bit in Garifuna. I won a bronze placing which was absolutely incredible; one of the judges came to me afterwards telling me how much she liked Luna Llena, which happened to be my favorite song to sing. I was very happy and proud. I was the only one from Discovery to place in the soloists. I was shocked since I thought my friends were really good and even better than I was. They did great and I’m proud of them, they didn't have to place to prove how well they sang. The ending concert was amazing, we sang 4 or 5 songs with all of the choirs together and it was so much fun.

Besides singing we also went on a cruise in the San Francisco Bay with all the choirs, we got to meet a lot of people from around the world, which was so cool. It was freezing on that boat! I was with my friends on the deck where the cold wind was blowing hard on us. We went around Alcatraz and under the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a really cool experience. We also were able to bond closer together as a choir and I was able to get closer to my close friend who we were staying with. We were able to talk with the other choirs on breaks and were able to meet some pretty amazing musicians. After the final concert, there was a dance, where we spent a fair amount of time dancing all together and talking and just having a great time. That night though, my friend was flying out to Los Angeles and so my sister and I stayed with another choir family until the next day where we flew back to Connecticut, the same way we came, stopping in Chicago. I was happy to be somewhat home with the rest of my family. We finished the rest of our vacation in the USA and then flew back to Honduras, this time all together.

I will never forget San Francisco, it was an amazing trip. I liked experiencing how it was to fly alone and to be so far from family, maybe it will help when I go off to college. I liked spending a week in California without my parents but I was relieved when I was safe under my parents’ wings. I had an amazing

experience, which I've probably said a thousand times, but it’s true, I truly did have an awesome experience and I’ll never forget it. I’m proud of myself and my friends. I’m proud of the choir and my school. I’m proud of Honduras and who we represented. I am very lucky to have had this opportunity. I thank God for allowing little me to place among 100 other contestants, and for allowing me to even fly to San Francisco in the first place. I thank God for keeping my sister and me safe along with the rest of our choir. I thank God for such a wonderful competition that he allowed us to participate in. It was awesome!

Goodbye, until next time! 

A Letter to my Future Husband

Dear handsome, amazing, tender man,

Whoever you are, I love you. I don’t know you yet and I’m pretty sure you don’t know me but I love you all the same. Since I was little I knew I would get married and have children. I always wanted my husband to be like my dad. I know it sounds weird but if you knew my dad you’d know why I’d like my future husband to be like him. I’m not saying I want to marry my dad, I just know that there are certain traits you must have for me to say “I do.”

My dad is kind, caring, loving, strong (emotionally and physically), great with kids, funny, passionate, dedicated, responsible, liable, trustworthy. He’s always there, he’s a great human example of God, he never hurt me, he taught me wrong from right, he loves my mom, he cares for her, he loves my sisters, he cares for them, and he loves my brother and cares for him. I know you’re thinking I’m just writing this to brag about my dad, I’m not. I just want you to know that when I meet you, I’ll be looking for these things. I don’t want you to be an exact version of my dad I’d just like a lot of these traits. I want you to know that I want to make the right decision in choosing my future spouse, and I’m scared of making a mistake. I want to love and be loved by you. I’m waiting for you, sexually speaking. I’m not having sex until I get married to you. I don’t want any other man to have me in that respect, so I’m saving myself for you. I’d like for you to do the same, but if this is not the case when we meet, there’s always forgiveness. I pray that you’ll do the same as me as I’m waiting for you. I want to have a future with you. I want to have a family, to travel, whether with kids or not, to live a good long life by your side. I want to have an open, honest relationship. I want you to be my best friend. I want to learn everything about you and every day learn something new about the wonderful man God ‘allowed’ me to marry. I want to grow together in Christ, to become a strong couple of God, and to raise our kids in a stable, Christian home. I want to be happy. I want to wake up each morning and see you beside me and thank God that I have such an amazing husband. I don’t want this to be a soppy love letter. I’m just writing to let you know how much I care about you before we even meet.

I promise now to support you through whatever comes [y]our way. I promise to love you through the good and the bad. I promise to be loyal to you, to love only you. Until death do us part, I’ll love you even afterwards. I love you Mr. insert-my-future-husband’s-name-here. I can’t wait to meet you.

Love your gorgeous, amazing, loving, future wife (I hope you think I’m just as amazing as I think you are).

Goodbye, until next time!

You Are Loved

“I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart.” Jeremiah 1:5. I love this verse. It is my absolute favorite verse in the Bible. It is a very beautiful message and it ‘hugs’ me per say. When I read it, I feel as if God is here and actually telling me this.

Everyone wants to feel loved. Everyone wants someone to say, “I love you” or at least be shown that they are loved. Everyone wants to feel wanted. Everyone wants to feel special. Everyone wants to fit in while still being unique. It’s all a part of human nature. This want to be loved, wanted, special, and to be unique while fitting in, is human. This verse has all of these components. God is telling you, “You are loved, you are special, you are wanted. You are unique, just like everyone else.” By telling me that He knew me before I was even formed in my mom’s womb shows me he loves me and wants me. He doesn't make mistakes, so I’m not a mistake, I’m wanted by Him. He wants me! He said he formed me before my mom knew about me, He must want me a whole lot to know me before anyone on earth does! The fact that he formed me means he took the time to say, “I want her to have a slightly larger nose with a big mouth and big teeth but don’t worry she’ll grow ‘into’ them. I want her to have bright red lips and big blue eyes which will later change color every once and a while, depending on what she’s wearing and the light in a room.” He didn't just throw together a mesh of DNA and saw, “Boom, here’s baby number 45,678,345,678,143... With only one new difference from baby 45,678,345,678,143...” He took the time to form me! He loves me that much to form me differently from every other person in the world. The fact that He says before I was born he set me apart makes me special. He made me Katarina Rose Fenn. He did not make me Sally Mia Rosencraft. He made me, me! He took me in His arms from the beginning and made me special and gave me purpose. Because He set me apart it means I’m unique from every other unique person in the entire world. He made everyone unique, He made you, you, and me, me. I may fit in, in some places, but no matter how much I fit in, I will always be me! God loves me, He wants me, He made me special, He made me unique.

This verse doesn't just apply to me though. I love this verse with all my heart, I love the Person who made it even more, but it isn't just for me. It’s for everyone. Not just Christians but Buddhists and Muslims and Atheists too. He loves every person. He made each person separately, specially, uniquely. No matter who you are or where you came from, He made you! He gave you a name, a personality, a life, and a purpose. He looked at each person before he placed them into their mother’s womb and said, “I love you. I made you special and unique. I have a purpose for you.” How does this feel? To be loved so much? I have no other way to say it, no other way to explain it. He loves YOU! He made YOU! You aren't just another mix of DNA. You are YOU because He made you that way. He doesn't make mistakes. So you can’t tell yourself how “ugly, unwanted, unloved, boring, fat, skinny, unworthy, etc.” He didn't make a mistake when He made you, so don’t say He did! It’s hard to think of someone actually loving you that much. But he isn't just someone, He’s the Almighty God and He loves YOU!

I love you too, whoever and wherever you are! Goodbye, until next time! 

The AWOL Tire

One Monday morning, my mom, my sisters, and I, decided to drive out to an orphanage in the middle of nowhere, about two to three hours away from Tegucigalpa. This was last year sometime, so we lived in Santa Lucia so it took longer to get there than if we lived in the city. We were driving along, singing and happy. My mom started hearing a clicking noise from our tire. However this was normal, we've heard that same noise a couple other times and we didn't think too much about it. As we come to a bridge that the Japanese built for Honduras, all of a sudden the car front tilts to the right and we girls yell at our mom, “There’s our tire!” Our tire was in front of us; it somehow came off the car and was rolling away at fifty mph!

It barely missed a house standing on the side of the highway and plummeted into the river below. My mom could only remember my dad telling her, “Don’t ride on the rim!” She expertly ‘drives’ or ‘handles’ the car without a front, right tire and crosses the bridge and pulls over. We get out and look at where our tire was. There is no tire, there is no rim! My mom was riding on the rotor! The rim left with the tire, the bolts had bent and broke somehow. We walked back across the bridge following how long mom drove on that rotor, there was a fine white line going all the way across the bridge and a meter or so before and after the bridge. This is one of those moments where we realized we could have died. We could have smashed into the house, the bridge itself, or the river several meters below the bridge.

We thanked God for keeping us safe and for helping my mom guide the car to a stop at the side of the road. After we got over the fact that our tire was gone, we called my dad to tell him what happened and to have him come and meet us along with the insurance people or tow truck or both or just something to help us from not being stranded. After we called my dad, we set out to find the tire; maybe we could put it back? We went down the hill, under some barbed wire and chain-link fence, to the river.  We searched for an hour or so and the tire was nowhere to be found. We searched down the river and up the river, we searched in the bushes on either side, it was gone! The people from the house were looking for it too, and one of the boys took off his shirt and pants to look underwater to see if it popped and sunk. It had disappeared! Eventually, my sisters and I gave up looking and sat on the side of the road singing, waiting for my dad to come. My mom was determined to find that tire, so she kept looking for a while and then came up to the highway waiting for my dad. My dad finally arrived and he was shocked at what happened.
He could not believe that the whole tire flew off and disappeared and he was amazed at how my mom was able to drive so far on the rotor. We ended up taking his car to continue on our journey to the orphanage, as was our whole purpose of going. He stayed with my brother, waiting for the insurance company to come with a tow truck or something. The tow truck came about thirty minutes or so after we left and the car was taken into a shop. We had a good day at the orphanage and as we drove back my mom looked out the window at the house by that bridge to see if they found the tire. That tire was never found! We have no clue where it went and how. If we pass by that spot we still try to see if we can see it anywhere, but to no avail. Our car was fixed and is now fine; we've never had another tire go AWOL after that. Maybe the others learned their lesson? Either way, we were safe; God protected us that day, quite awesomely.  This is one of those things that I think only happens in Honduras!

Goodbye, until next time! 

The Crazy Adventure in Palenque

                About two years ago, in the summer, my aunt and uncle came down to Honduras with a mission’s team from their church. They brought their son and daughter along with them, so we were Able to meet up with family and meet some new friends. We lived in Santa Lucia and traveled to Zambrano, where we used to live, because there was a missionary who had a house we could use for so many of us and we were able to help him out in any way we could. They stayed for a week and we did many different things, we mainly did kids related events though, where we would teach and play games and do crafts and give presents.

 There was one event that was by far the one we remembered the most. We were going to go up into the mountains to Las Botijas where my best friend lived, it was an hour up in the mountains and we were going to do a kids event where we taught and played and gave stuff out. After Botijas, we would then travel to Palenque which was thirty minutes to an hour further up the mountain. It had rained the night before and the road to go to Palenque was muddy, the two trucks we were travelling in couldn't get through. So, we had to walk all the way there, carrying the different games and items we would need, it would be a two or three hour walk. We had two horses though that we used to carry the things we needed and also to place my brother up there with someone else who was having trouble walking. We started out, all was well, we were getting hot, as the sun was out and there were some big hills we needed to climb up, but all was good. We were walking for a good while and then it started to rain. It started out as a sprinkle but then turned into full rain. We were five minutes from the town of Palenque, we could see it from the top of the hill/mountain we were on, and the rain stopped, but the road was so muddy. We would slip and slide as we were walking towards this town to have fun with the kids there. We eventually arrive to Palenque and we play with the kids, didn't matter how muddy, dirty, and wet we were, we still played and taught just like in Botijas. We finished with the event and realized we had to walk all the way back to Botijas and then get into a car to drive back to Zambrano. I did not like this idea, I was tired, wet, and hungry, and I didn't want to walk two to three hours more to get back to Botijas. No matter, we started out, same way we came. However, this time we split into groups as some walked faster than others. My sisters and our cousin were the first ones to go, then my best friend and I and then several other groups behind us. We start walking and soon enough it starts to rain again. But this time, it was pouring rain, and then it started lightning and thundering. This is where my best friend and I started freaking out that we would be hit by lightning and die. The road going uphill looked like it was made of chocolate as the rain washed the dirt away to unearth more dirt. We saw a tree that was down that wasn't that way when we walked to Palenque, and then we saw a tree fall down further along the path as it was hit by lightning. It was crazy scary. It took longer to get back than to get to Palenque, it took three to four hours to get back to Botijas. We eventually got to Botijas and we were given hot coffee and cookies that my best friend’s mom made.

Everyone was safe, cold, wet, and hungry but nonetheless safe. When everyone arrived, we piled up into the back of the truck to get back to Zambrano. They put a tarp over us to keep us from catching a cold and from getting any more wet, we all squeezed in and were already to get back ‘home’ and eat, as it started getting dark at the ending part of our long walk. It was dark now and we all wanted to go ‘home’ and eat and take nice hot showers. We start along and BAM! The truck’s wheel gets stuck in a ditch/pothole in the middle of the road. We all have to pile out and wait until they can get the truck out. They’re finally able to do so and we all pile back in but this time we don’t bother with the tarp and we just sit wherever we find space. We started again to go back to Zambrano and we finally arrive at the house we’re staying at. Everyone is relieved to be back ‘home.’ We eat and shower and go straight to bed, everyone is too tired to do anything but those three things.

This was one of the many adventures I've had in Honduras. I get to say I've walked three or so hours in the rain to play and teach kids in a little mountain village, if someone asked me to do it again, I might say yes. Actually I think I would say yes, as much as it was tiring and I wouldn't want to do such a draining activity, I liked walking in the rain and mud, in a weird way it was actually fun. I experienced something that very few people from first world countries get to experience, I got to experience exactly what it’s like for those mountain villagers to walk to and from Palenque. It’s an event that I believe could “only happen in Honduras,” as is the saying in this beautiful country. What a day!

Goodbye, until next time!