I felt officially very Honduran during a lesson the other day. I was sitting on a flea infested bed, in a terrible house, which smelt like they were hiding dead people. Rats where running out from under beds and sofas during the lesson, and the neighbors next door were blasting nasty Latino rap to the point where at times we were yelling (have you ever tried yelling the first vision?) and the other neighbors were playing with fire works. In all, it was a very Honduras moment.
In the past in lessons like this I tend to freeze up, like hard. Unable to speak and completely frazzled I just do my best to not have a panic attack, or scream and leave, when a rat runs and hits my shoe and runs under the bed I was on. I shocked myself that despite all the distraction and craziness, I did awesome. I had the spirit, the Spanish was there, and we taught a great lesson. I couldn't believe just how much I had improved, and just how far I had come as a missionary.Sure my comp likes to tell me I suck, but its moments like this that I just look inward and think "who in the crap is Scott Morris?" I am not sure when he left. Maybe its when I got out of the car at the MTC, or when I was set apart. Maybe when I got my missionary tag, or when I got off the plane. I may never know exactly when, but I can barely recognize my self after all the growth and change. A mission is truly amazing.
It's super hard, but I am not the child you sent here any more. I got big problems, but I can handle them with Gods help. I love you all and think of you lots, but I know that ever thing is going to be "todos cheque!" (Honduran slang for "all good")
Time is just flying by isn't it? I have already been here like 3 months! and on a mission for going on half a year!!! LOCO!
With all my hope and prayers
Elder Morris
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