I moved sites to the Gumbo YaYa. Come on over for a serving of word gumbo.
If you are reading this here, you are missing out. The Gumbo Pot is closing. And Gumbo Ya-Ya is the new place to find a fresh post from the Gumbo Gal. Here’s a tease of my lastest from Gumbo Ya-Ya. Now get moving!
I noticed that this site picked up a few new followers at this site. I moved to the Gumbo Ya Ya. Follow the link and read my latest post about Nicaragua, Grace, and Smoothies. There’s also a crazy picture roll on the bottom of the last post that I need to fix. See ya there!
I’m moving on in a number of ways. First and foremost, to my dear reader or two, who have hoped for more Gumbo musings, I have moved to a new site, The Gumbo YaYa.
Here’s the premier post from the new site. If you like it, click on over there for more.
It’s me, the Gumbo Lady. I used to write as Madame Gumbeaux at the blog, Honduras Gumbo. I left Honduras over three years. I am living in Louisiana. I don’t think I will be around much longer in the area north of New Orleans. Something is stirring in the gumbo pot. I am ready for the next adventure.
This week I am in Managua, Nicaragua. I am checking out different ministries and organizations. My hosts are missionaries with i-61.org. The number and letters are taken from Isaiah 61 which talks about all sorts of good things that God promises for us now and in the Kingdom to come.
Look up Isaiah 61 when you have time. It’s crammed with revolutionary verses about beauty coming out of ashes, good news for the poor, healing for the brokenhearted and more ridiculous and wonderful stuff. Read it for yourself at Bible Gateway online, then pop back here for more from the Gumbo lady.
Gumbo is a soup full of good stuff that we Louisiana people borrowed from French, Spanish and African cultures. It’s an eclectic and delicious dish. No one makes gumbo right unless they learned it from your South Louisiana ancestors. It’s in our blood to make gumbo. Other gumbo in different parts of the US usually tastes like dish water. I have been served it like a chowder. God forbid! If you can’t make a roux, then don’t even try it.
Why Ya-ya? Well, long ago, Lyle Saxon wrote a classic compilation of Louisiana folk tales titled, Gumbo Ya-Ya. The term, Ya-Ya, has many meanings including everyone talking at the same time. My take on Ya-Ya will be to tackle a broad range of subjects, rather than simply writing solely about mission stuff, or just Louisiana tales, or my solitary musings. It’s going to be a Gumbo pot of all that’s happening in my storied life.
We’re going to have some fun around here. I can guarantee that. This post will be cross-posted under my former site, The Gumbo Pot. See ya’ll soon.
Kudos to all who helped with the shoe drive launched in December. We had an extraordinary outpouring of financial help in a brief amount of time in December. I purchased shoes as well as sent a generous offering to partnering ministry, His Eyes, that oversees my former ministry on the outskirts of Tegucigalpa, Honduras. With our gifts they can distribute shoes as well buy shoes in the capital. Thank you.
Coincidentally, I happened to be in Honduras the same week that our shoes arrived. I went to Honduras last week. It was my first trip since I moved back to the US in 2014. I literally pinched myself a few times as I met friends at the airport upon arriving last Friday. Just to be back with such dear friends in a country that I love dearly was overwhelming.
Our gifts will be distributed next week as school starts in the beginning of February. I spent a good deal of the time visiting my former ministry. It was a joy to be with the children as well as speaking with old and new staff there.
If you follow me on Facebook some of the following information will be old news. However, it bears repeating, especially since some who donated do not follow my Facebook posts.
The ministry is growing in size as well as the quality of services offered to the children. The new overseeing ministry, His Eyes, is in the process of completing a new children’s building. What a blessing it will be to have a new, larger space to help more children. In the meantime, the children’s present location has been given a facelift with renovated rooms and new paint. They have a ROOM OF COMPUTERS that have wifi! For such a poor and neglected slum area, that is a major achievement. Most homes do not have running water, just a bulb or two for lights, and no bathrooms. Yet, our building has wifi, pure water, indoor plumbing and as well as a safe place for young minds and bodies to grow.
His Eyes Ministries started many years ago as a small eye clinic. Today, the clinic has two floors, offering services such as general medicine with two full-time doctors, a pharmacy, simple medical testing, a dentist office, an optometry department with a full time optometrist and one optometrist-in-training. The roads in this community barely qualify to be called roads in most cases, so the thousands of people in this crammed mountain area of shacks are grateful to have quality, afffordable medical care in their community.
In the midst of turmoil in Honduras, I see hope. The country is still a place of tragic violence and poverty, yet I see much that speaks of hope. Thank you for being my audience for my writing though my years there, as well as partnering with Hondurans to make their lives better. I hope to find the time this week to share a few pictures from my recent trip as well as short excerpts about the lives of some of my friends from Honduras.
Where have I been? Well, most assuredly, not here at the Gumbo blog. I haven’t written a scrap on the blog in months, save for a plea for mammon yesterday for needy kids. See yesterday’s post if you care to help.
I have no excuse. Nothing. Nada.
I write. I began a journal as a Lenten exercise. I didn’t stop at the Resurrection. I have seventy odd pages in a secure place.
I am tutoring: children and adults. I teach Spanish for gringos; English for others. I have foreign students, such as Japanese, French, and Brazilians.
Bubu, my German Shepherd, died this fall. He was old. No pain.
Now, I have a foster who may be adopted tomorrow. Rosa is a mature girl, 6 1/2 years old. She’s active and happy. If the prospective family fails to take her, consider adopting Rosa.
If you don’t receive a Christmas card from me, consider this picture as your personal card.
I hope to write more about future plans in 2017. I am bored with the RWPs (rich white people) in the US. My self-imposed hermitage must end.
Helping Honduran children get shoes for school term in 2017.