it's not about what i do.

I love this blog post. I remember coming to this realization with Noah. But, I gotta admit there are days I feel like I am not living up to what I perceive are God's expectations of me. Do any other mommas of young ones struggle with this?? I feel like my "alone" times are so few that all I want to do many times is stare at a white wall and nibble on my nails. There are times I feel guilty coming to God in prayer, because I know I haven't even opened my Bible in days.

It is comforting to know that God knows me. Is there with me in my tiredness. He hears my "prayers" of, "Thank you!" or "Help!"--and they count. It kinda makes ya want to spend more time with Him, no? Once you get it out of your mind that He is mad about your "lack" in the spiritual department.

There truly is no God as marvelous and perfect as ours.

curiosity

It killed the cat, and it's killin' me! (In the figurative sense, of course.)

Being a foreigner in a country can get old. Then, imagine being a foreigner in a town where you can count the other "white people" on one hand. Yes, you become quite the head-turner. Quite the sensation.

I know some people say, "That's great! Use it to your advantage!"

But, sometimes, I just want to be invisible. I just want to wander around, window-shopping and lost in my own thoughts--without having to constantly try to side-step teethy señores who want to tell me my Spanish is great and where am I from?

I want to open my mouth without everyone in ear-shot freezing. I want to ask where I can find something without some snooty girl saying she can't understand my accent.

I want people to come visit me because they want to be friends, not because they want to see what kind of place the gringa has... and once they have found that out, they never come back.

I want not to be thought of as the representation of an entire nation. I often feel I am "bearing" the reproach of what someone perceives of Americans (example: American girls are generally thought of as being very "loose" morally... so, it can be hard to get other girls to open up since they think you are going to try to steal their man. It can be too easy for guys to approach you because they think you'll be open to them.).

I guess the thing is, I don't mind people being curious about me. It's just I mind the "impersonal curiosity". In other words, usually they aren't curious in that genuine "let's-be-friends" kind of way. More like curious in the "pay 5 cents to see the circus act" kind of way.

But, it's ok. I know I'm interesting. It's hard being a star. Hahah.

don't you?

When you are out and about, looking for a new shirt to wear, don't you always carry around a bottle of the good stuff? At 10 in the morning? Don't you?

she's a diva

To be fair, our van has had a hard life. She was a wonderful gift at a much needed time. However, she is annoyed with us right now because it seems we didn't get the "hello-Windstars-are-for-driving-on-paved-roads-only" memo. Or the, "treat-me-gently" memo.

She has taken us all the way from here to Nebraska, through a snowstorm in Missouri (above) and to Illinois... and then back here. She has driven us the 9 hours to the border and back. More than once. She has taken people to and brought people from different airports.

She has been transporting wayyyy more people than she was made to carry (hey, it's Mexico. Why take more vehicles when we can all sit on each other's laps?).

She has been jarred, jostled and jolted along "roads" featuring pot holes as big as she is and rocks the size of her tires.

So, around the end of October, Van said, "Enough already! If you won't stop the abuse, I'll make you stop!" The transmission went out.

Ooohhh. Good one, Vanny. Because, we didn't have anything to fix the transmission with-- so Van sat out in the street in front of our house, chuckling to herself beneath her ever-thickening blanket of dust.

In December, we found a super-cheap mechanic who promised success. When he was finished with his repairs, we found that the brakes stayed clamped on. Rey tinkered with that a bit, with no luck. And then, Vanny struck again and the transmission went out. Again.

In January, we received a gift to be able to repair the van. So, we hired 2 better mechanics... and they worked in the afternoons in our front yard. All of Van's guts were laid out in the lawn and the mechanics literally took out the engine and a bunch of other big parts as they fixed the old girl.

About a week later, she was ready to go. Maybe the 2nd day Rey had her out, the van wouldn't start. So, back to the mechanics she went.

And, then her brakes kept clamping on.

Then, her suspension had to be fixed. I think she may have a crush on one of the mechanics. Not too sure.

About a week ago, maybe the second time I was driving her, I started her up, and made a U-turn on my street to head out. I heard a "clunk"... and then the car stopped working. I rolled to a stop, and got out to investigate. From back of the van stretched a long line of oil on the street... ending at a piece that had fallen off of the van. It seems like it was a cap of some kind for one of the oil tanks. So, she was out of commission again for a few days while Rey found the parts to fix it. And, the first time Rey drove her--the same piece fell off again. So, Rey fixed her. Again.

Now, she is running again. But, to start her, you have to do this fun little "back-and-forth" game, where you try to start it in "park", and then you try to start it in "neutral" and you just keep going back and forth like that until she decides to run.

She also does these super dramatic coughs and convulsions whenever the air conditioner is turned on.

Sistah, if you keep it up... you may just have to find yourself a new family!

life they always dreamed about.

"You married someone. You made a commitment. Who are you as a spouse not to be a great partner? Because you are going to significantly... not ruin... but, not give the kind of life that you promised to that person you married. And that is a long time. I don't want to be a bad husband and ruin my wife's life because I'm lazy or I don't want to listen. It's a big responsibility. I want you to think about being responsible enough to love that person that you took a vow with and to give them the life you promised." --Matt Titus

I stumbled across this gem will watching a video excerpt of Matt and his wife giving some advice to spouses.

It spoke to me. Gave me a little shove in the right direction.

I am now taking responsibility for my actions, reactions, attitudes. For my part in creating the life Rey dreamed about when he dreamed about life with me. For becoming that person, that wife, that momma, that friend, that God has dreamed of me becoming.

sell outs.

We aren't. Really. It was just a fun title.

Most of you know that we have not been able to raise anywhere near what we need to live here. It is really the grace of God that keeps us going. But, it also can create a pressing stress when it comes to any financial thing.

A couple of months ago, we were stuck. We had way more bills than we had the ability to pay. So we decided to sell some non-essentials. Things we don't really need today-- like that stove we had, when this house came with a stove. Or (*sniff*) all our baby clothes that had been outgrown. Or clothes we didn't use that often. Or that TV screen (who needs a 36" when you have an 8"?). Or that cozy robe (sweaters work just fine). Don't need this stroller when I have 2 strong arms. Thinning out some of Noah's toys worked, too. "We don't really need these frames, or those cups, or..."

Using this approach, we were able to put out a couple tables of stuff and hang some things on our fence and have a fine garage sale.

However, we soon ran out of non-essentials.

I then remembered something I had done to help us out financially when we lived in Rio Bravo: Selling for people. I asked around among our friends if anyone had stuff they'd like to sell. I'd offer to sell it for them and split it 50-50. Works out good because we always have "new" stuff to sell, and they are getting a little something for doing nothing.

We usually try to put out our little "thrift shop" at least once on the weekend, depending on Rey's schedule. We seem to sell best on Saturdays.

Days we sell are crazy days. "Hit the floor running and don't stop 'till it's over" kind of days. Days that our bed looks like this. All day.



It is always a juggling game. It takes about an hour of running to get everything out and ready to sell... stepping over and around little helpers that want to pull clothes off tables and tags off of clothes. Taking turns gobbling down breakfast, lunch, supper.





The other great thing about doing this selling is we get to meet our neighbors and somewhat form relationships with them. That is huge.

We put out our shop today. Oh, my. What were we thinking? As you see, we live on a dusty dirt road. Made even dustier by 5 months without any kind of rain. And today was sooo windy. I'm guessing it was gusting around 30 mph. Clothes were flying around. You couldn't see the end of the street. Craziness.

As we packed up stuff in the afternoon, I told Rey it looked like we'd been trying to do business on the beach. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g was coated it sandy dirt. Ni modo ("oh well"), we had to try!

Now, the dust has (literally and figuratively) settled. Everything is back to where it should be, windows and doors shut, house swept. I found myself finally making our bed about 7 pm. I know, I know. What's the point.... But, it really helps me feel like I can settle in and relax when everything is "as it should be" (for the most part!).

So, now... me and my baby are gonna settle in with a big bowl of veggie soup and a movie someone gave us. And we are going to relax!

dumbness... it can be scary.

Do you ever stop to think about how nice the world would be without money? Now don't roll your eyes or overthink it... What I mean is: How many of the horrible, life-taking things going on in the world today are because of money. Because money = power. And everyone wants that. Power.

I just get so annoyed when I think about the evil that drugs has done to the country I am living in. Stupid drugs. I mean, seriously? Killing innocent people, kidnapping innocent people, terrorizing innocent people-- for marijuana? I know-- it comes down to the money = power thing... but, grr!

I wonder how different our experience here would be without the whole "drug thing". From what we hear, this area had no drug issue until about 3 years ago when the cartels moved in. They now hold the area in a grip of utter panic. Fear for life. Fear for living. They work somewhat like the mafia: Extorting businesses under threat of death or destruction of property. They have been known to raze schools. They have kidnapped family members right from their front doorstep. They set up blockades on the roads and pull people over... stealing cars or worse. They show up at random places, always armed to the hilt, and demanding whatever they want.

What would it be like without this darkness? Obviously now people are deciding the safest thing is to stay huddled up in their houses and stick with the people they know. Mexicans have always been known for being warm, open and hospitable. We haven't found that in this area, and we think we know why.

I don't usually get scared about it unless I am out driving with the kids alone. There are certain highways in town that it seems like soldier-drug people chases take place with more frequency... and when I am on those roads, my pulse gets faster. I start over-analyzing every fancy looking SUV, every car without plates. I give them extra distance, try to check if they might be following.

Here, as soon as the sun goes down, the area becomes somewhat desolate. There aren't too many people on the streets, walking or in cars. It is generally known that the safest time to be out is in the morning and afternoon. After that, people stick close to home. I don't like to drive after dark. The feeling that everyone is hiding pushes my imagination into overdrive.

Rey just got home from the Huichol Indian village. He says that they were pulled over by one of the drug road blockades. They were forced to get out of their vehicles and questioned as to their activities. The vehicles the team uses have magnets with the ministry name on them.... and Rey feels like if it weren't for them they may have been fired upon since they failed to stop right away.

So, there. That's our situation. It's ugly. It's wrong. And it's so dumb.

sweetest hubby award

Convo between me and my true love:

He: Wow, you look great! It's gotta be those exercise classes, right?
Me: I've only gone to 2 classes...

:)

artsy

We often comment that Rey should have studied Mechanical Engineering. He is an Industrial Engineer... but he has an uncanny sense for how things work and how to fix things. It is his absolute favorite thing to loose himself for hours with some broken thing, and emerge victorious with the answer.

I joke that I should've studied Industrial Engineering. Rey's area of study specializes in process, especially in the factory world. How things get put together, how the process could be made faster, more streamlined. Let me tell you, that is my specialty. Be it good or bad, my brain is always firing at me faster more efficient ways to get the job done. I think it drives my poor details-loving man crazy, but the space between A-B always seems small to me.

Enter my new job with my friend, Doris. Let's just start off by saying--growing up with 7 brothers and a momma with more than enough on her plate did not leave much room for "crafty-ness". No ma'am. We did not labor much with the hot glue gun or make large poofy creations from ribbon and styrofoam. It was a pretty straight-forward and durable world I grew up in (which I loved). However, my friend Doris was gifted with an amazing sense of color and texture combinations that help her to create memorable and beautiful jewelry from the beads she sells. She also has these hands that seem to be both strong and flexible, able to work deftly with the smallest of pieces and to coax them into obedience.

Having worked far more with diapers and shovels (not together...yet), this has been a completely new world for me. I love all kinds of learning and I love being creative, so it has been a world that I am enjoying. I do have to admit feeling less than adequate many times--since many of the regulars at Doris's store are more like her than like me.

Doris offers several jewelry making classes at her store. A new one taught the process of "filigrana". Basically, the process involves making jewelry from molding wire into circles, swirls, designs and interlocking them all into one piece. Usually there are beads accenting at certain parts.

Doris asked if I'd be interested in taking the class. She hoped I'd be able to learn the process and then teach some classes myself.

Did I mention I've never done any kind of jewelry making? That pliers aren't a 3rd hand for me? That I've taken exactly 3 of Doris's BEGINNER classes and this is definitely an advanced technique?

But, I'm up for anything. So I said, "Sure!" We got schedules figured out, and I went to my first class. For 3 HOURS, I made circles, and circles and circles.

Tiny circles.

Observe:



I mean... eye-crossingly tiny!



The thing is, every ring has to be completely round, the exact same size. The place where the wires of the circle meet need to overlap the tiniest little bit... enough to close it tightly, but not so much as to warp the circle.

For ever 3 rings I made, 2 were rejected. That was when I was doing well.

I envisioned the teacher banging his head to a mushy pulp every day as I left the class.

And, being the "streamlining" type person I am... all I could think about was this huge container that Doris has behind the counter of thousands of those perfect rings, made by a MACHINE! Hellllooooo?? Can't I just use those rings to make this precious necklace?

It was then that I realized it. I am not an artist. I think that artists revel in the process almost more than the finished product. They take pride in knowing just how much of their art was made by their own hand.

Nope. I'm just artsy. I like learning about stuff. I like seeing how things were made. I like being creative--to a point. It's just the way it is. There is only so much time I will invest in something before I am asking myself if there is a more efficient way around this mountain.

It's kind of a sad realization, but not a new one. I know I don't have the staying power to perfect a craft. It just makes me admire more people that do.

PS--I am not taking that class any more. It demanded more time than I could put into it. And, we decided I should probably conquer Beginner and Intermediate before I take on Advanced. :)

my limits.

Some sweet friends had a get together/meal for a bunch of us tonight.

Rey ate first and then wrangled Aleni while I scooped some food onto my plate to gobble it down.

Rey asked if I had gotten anything out of that dish. That dish was a covered dish which held some unknown black, gnarly, mushy looking substance which I passed on as I went for the identifiable rice and beans.

Him (brightly): You should try some!
Me: What is it?
Him (looking around for help): I can't remember the name of it...?? (getting no help, he shrugs:) Well, anyways. It's cooked blood and onions!" (smiling encouragingly)

I told him since he'd described it so beautifully.... I'd pass.

not so bad

Disinfecting fruits and veggies ain't so bad when it looks like this:

sending love.

Will. William. Will Patrick.
When you arrived, time for me stood still.
It was as if the hurry, scurry, flurry disappeared
And the only thing that mattered was you.
You are here.

Your arrival was momentous for many reasons.
You are number 4 in your family.
Number 12 to my auntie count.
You were number 1 in your family for me.
Because you were the first of your siblings
At whose birth I was absent.

Will, you are a sweet bundle of perfection.
I can imagine how perfectly sweet you smell.
How your wrinkly little toes object to being washed.
How your little eyes try to make sense of this foreign world.
The love you get from your proud older siblings.

You reminded me, nephew of mine,
You made me feel the distance.
You helped me remember the tightness of sister bonds,
The one-of-a-kind inner knowing of sisterhood.
You made that truth so clear to me that I cried that day.
Cried like I haven't in a long time.
Because I miss you. Miss your mom. Your siblings.
I miss home.

Will, I send a kiss to you across these many miles.
A light kiss on your warm, smooth forehead.

Hoping it gets to you okay,
Your loving aunt

growing room.

"Every human being is drawn to move forward and learn. What isn't permitted to grow up just gets old...
Generosity is the signature of adult love.
In supporting and encouraging each other, we learn the lesson generosity teach--that givers also receive.... Allowing, encouraging, even sacrificing so that a spouse can become all that is in him/her to become--this is how to make a marriage grow. It is also how to let your marriage grow you."

From the article "Room to Grow" by Kate Braestrup.

clouds.

Today, a friend of mine from here in Fresnillo wrote on Facebook: "Clouds... beautiful clouds... what a wonderful day!"

Now, this may sound odd to those of you still in the gray clutches of winter... but, we haven't had precipitation of any kind since early September. That means we've had about 5 whole months of nothin' but sunshine. Sure, it's cold now... but we still have the cheery sun greeting us every single day.

This really is mind-blowing to the Central Illinois native that I am. I mean--no rain, no snow, no nothing?? Seriously? As you can imagine... things are veeerrrryyy dry around here. (Except for our front yard which Rey still has looking shockingly green thanks to his nightly watering).

Yesterday, clouds rolled in late afternoon. Yes. After 5 months of pure blue with a white puff here or there... the clouds made an appearance. They really do feel like a presence. A rolling expanse of fluffy gray blanketing the sky. The air feels still and dampish. Sounds seem muffled.

Thankfully, this calming sensation brought by our gray sky-cover seems to have affected the babies. They have been exceptionally mellow... and were both ready for naps long before nap time rolled around.

I am hoping the rainy season holds off just 2 weeks longer. You see, our roof leaks. And so do our windows. The landlady is having things repaired at the beginning of February.

Then... I say... Let it pour!

well, yes. you could say that...

As I mentioned before, I am now working 2 mornings a week at a "Make-your-own" jewelry store name Caliza (which I am loving, by the way). Being an American working in México almost always provides for curious clients. I told my friend (the owner) she should post a sign outside that says, "Gringa freak working here" if she wants to increase sales. ;)

Many Mexicans resist calling the US "America", because--as they have pointed out to me--the are just as much "America" as the US... being on the North American continent and all. So, the US is often referred to as "el otro lado (the other side)". Think border.
A conversation between me and a teenage boy yesterday:

Him: "So, are you from the other side?"
Me: "Sí."
Him (looking very wise and earnest): "Oh, ok. I'll bet you learned to speak English really well over there."
Me (mouth opening. closing.): "Sí."

today's naptime went like this:

.pumpkin seeds. cauliflower puree. roasted pumpkin & sweet potatoes. carrot puree. zucchini puree. red bell pepper puree.


purees cooling. pumpkin seeds showing off.


fruits of my labor. on the way to the freezer.
just tell yourself that is the Spanish spelling of zucchini.
the cool thing is i'll be remembering my sis's birthday every time i use these.


i ran out of bags at this point. to the fridge with you!


my project resulted in this. lucky me = we are out of water again. haha.

just

Today was a full day. Started off by ignoring the 6:20am alarm, and rolling out around an hour past. Gotta say, knowing that I have to skedaddle outside and around the house in the 30 degree morning air to light the water heater for my shower sure takes away my resolve for rising early. Brr.

Did that. Then, checked Facebook while eating in a quiet, cold house. Bawled while watching this video my bro put up. Realized I had to get a hold of myself and get moving. Aleni was up by then. Got her changed, fed her breakfast. Threw in a load of wash. Then, went and woke up the man of the house so he could hang onto the girlie while I showered.

Showered. Chatted with Rey about plans for the day and then ran out the door for my first day of "work". Yes. You read right. Work. And, yes. It was between quotation marks. I am "working" 2 days a week from 10a-1p for a friend of mine. That's why it's between quotation marks. Since it is only about 6 hrs a week, and it's with a friend--it's more like glorified girl-time. And, since I am "earning" about a dollar an hour, it is definitely not for bringing home the bacon.

I am working at a specialty shop that sells all kinds of beads and things one would need to make jewelry. It's really cool, because not only am I getting to socialize twice a week, I am learning something new and creative. Is God good or what? :)

So, I got home around 2. Passed the car keys off to Rey and scarfed down some lunch. Set to work on getting the house cleaned up--which is slightly difficult with two little angels keeping company. I had planned for a mom's group to meet in my house at 5, so I was working to the clock.

Put some more laundry in to wash. Folded and put away dry laundry. Fed Aleni supper. Got her dressed in some clean clothes (I tell you what. This girl is mean to her clothes. After about 5 minutes, she can have whatever she is wearing irreparably stained). Got Noah changed. Washed dishes. Wiped down surfaces. Set up a "drink station".

Rey got home around 4, which gave me a chance to get things printed off and organized for the mom's group. He left again at 4:30 to pick up cousin Alicia who does child care during the mom's group. They got back exactly at 5.

And, no one came.

I am just trying to decide if I should keep trying this mom group thing, or take a hint...

Oh, well. Good side: The house is nice and clean. And I had a fun evening with Alicia as she kept me company and helped entertain the kids.

The guy that has been making payments to buy our stove off of us came by and made the last payment. Bye bye little stove (we'd bought it before moving, and this house came with its own stove. Cool.)

Rey has been running around like crazy from junkyard to junkyard all afternoon and evening trying to find good parts at good prices for our poor van. Poor van is sitting in our front yard; it's engine is sitting next to it. Yes, the poor girl has been gutted. But, we hope it's for the better!

agua?

A few days ago, our neighborhood was without water since there was a break somewhere in the pipes. Water was turned off on Tuesday morning and turned back on Wednesday around noon. Late afternoon, our water tank was about half full, but that didn't create enough pressure for the water to actually come into the house. That didn't happen until Thursday morning.

I just want to insert here that I still haven't figured out how to do the unshowered look "cutely". You know those people that you can go camping with and after 5 days in the wilderness, they still look cute? That's not me.



Back to the agua situation. So, my darling and oh-so-ingenious husband put a spigot on our water tank (low to the ground so the water didn't need to be pressurized), and at last we had water! If you can imagine what 1 1/2 days of dishes in the sink looked like... well, I forgot to take a picture, so you'll just have to imagine. But, yeah. We were running out of things to eat off of and drink out of.

Dish washing took a little longer and looked like this:


But it was actually kinda fun. It made me think of a simpler time, and how if people who lived all the time without running water saw my way of washing and rinsing... they would probably snicker into their shirtsleeves. I'm sure it was a very inefficient method--but, the dishes got washed. Even if I had to re-wash a bunch since the bucket Rey had filled with water also had been used to put gas into when he was fixing the car the other day. Ooops. So that's what that weird smell was....


We also were able to have one of these guys full of water in the bathroom:

That meant we could flush. Manually. I never knew about that kind of flushing until I came here. Of course, I've dumped mop water and stuff down the toilet and noted that it flushed... But, the first time I came to Mexico as a wee and impressionable lass of 18, I learned of this often used technique. We were at a restaurant chowing down on tacos, when I used up 50% of my Spanish vocab at the time and asked: "Dónde está el baño?" I was taken to the tiniest of rooms at the back of the restaurant, barely enough room to shut the door behind you, and stood in line behind a couple other ladies. When it was my turn, I self-consciously shut the paper-thin door, noting there were about 3 other ladies waiting their turn.

When it time to flush, I realized I had a problem. This toilet had no tank on the bank, hence--no "flusher". I looked around the bathroom several times to see if there was something to remedy the situation, but all there was nothing (I'd even had to bring my own paper). I finally poked my beet red face out the door and pointed at the toilet... How did one say "flush" in Spanish?? I made some kind of hand motions and said "How?" The woman in charge motioned to a huge tank of water just outside the bathroom door. On top was floating a maybe 2-gallon bucket.

I got that I was supposed to fill the bucket up with water and that was supposed to be a miraculous solution. Trying to put on the "I-know-what-I'm-doing-here" face and noting that the wait line was even longer, I went back in with my little bucket. I tossed the water in the toilet (first asking: "Should I throw it in the front or the back?"...so I did half and half). Let me tell ya. Nothing happened. I took a deep breath, put the bucket back in the tank and high-tailed it back to our table. I wanted to say "Sorry" to the people behind me. But, I was already mortified as it was.

Good news: I can now manually flush along with the natives. Haha.

So, that was a free story from the life of Liz.

Back to the actual topic: No water at the Sánchez home.

Bath time went down like this:



Noah loved it. Aleni preferred to enjoy from afar:


So, that's what we do when there's no water around here.

the most annoying part.

I know, I know. After reading that title, you have leaned closer to the screen and started nibbling on a fingernail. That is how much you are dying to know just what I find to be "the most annoying" thing.

The problem is, as soon as I write anything as drastic as "most", then I start double-guessing myself and changing what I was going to say before... I will most likely think of more annoying things as I write or in the middle of the night. Such is the bliss of my personality... haha.

So, as I was saying.

To me, possibly the most annoying part of Rey's "job" for me is the severed communication. We work as church planters, and the closest community Rey goes to is a little less than an hour away. The farthest is 4.5 hours away. And, his cell phone service is pretty much nonexistent as soon as he gets outside of our city. Which means, I usually hear nothing from him until he is about 5 minutes away. And that I can't get a hold of him until then.

It just makes for a long day. And the idea that I would not be able to get a hold of him at all if there were an emergency is even more daunting. So far, thankfully, there have been no emergencies that could not be figured out by me. I have been able to think of someone who might be able to give me a ride or whatever I need. Usually, the desire to communicate arises more from either curiosity, boredom, or the desire to plan.

Often, I just am thinking about Rey and want to see what he's up to. Is everything going well? Tell him I miss his darlin' face, etc, etc. ;)

Other times, I'm wondering if I should make supper? Will he have eaten by the time he gets back?? And--by the way--what time are you getting back? It seems to never fail that the nights I don't have supper ready... Rey arrives road-weary and famished. The nights I make a 3-course meal, he is so stuffed that even looking at food is nauseating.

Sigh. See why it could get annoying?

Today, there's no emergency and I still have leftovers from the good supper I made last night--so my desire to communicate isn't really a need. They are at one of the "far-away villages" today. Have been since 8 this morning. They must still be far away, because when I tried to call, my call was sent to voice mail.

Nah. I just wanted to call to tell him about something Noah said. And that some friends stopped by and chatted for a while. And that we've had a pretty good day, but that we miss him. And, that I just pulled cookies out of the oven, since I know he usually likes that after a long day out. Things like that.

But, that's where we are and what we do. I am learning flexibility and patience. I am un-learning to plan my weeks out months in advance... since I usually learn what Rey is doing on a day-to-day basis (for example: I have no idea if they are going out tomorrow or to where).
Yep. It's the most annoying part.

loss.

A dear friend of mine lost her baby due to a miscarriage about a month ago. These were some thoughts I wrote...

I wish, my friend, that it hadn't happened.
The stabbing pain of loss following
The tender flower of expectancy.

I wish, my friend, that it hadn't happened to you.
You, who always put others first, who
Spread gentle love wherever you go.

I wish, my friend, that loss were not such a solitary road,
Each step taken by you alone,
Every gasping tear, every sad realization.

I wish, my friend, that you would know His hand
Touching your bruised soul, lifting your dark burden,
Wiping your wet face, holding you close.

I wish, my friend, that you would know His peace.
Calm out of the storm, healing from the wunding,
Purpose in the chaos.

I pray, my friend, that you would know His strength.
Holding up your weary hands, repairing your frame,
Replacing these ashes with His beauty.

change is the point.

Rey and I both have had our hard times in life, but we both agree that these last couple of months have been especially pressing, especially tense.

It seems that on all fronts for us right now, there are problems. There are things--be they little or large--that are not the way we'd like for them to be. That are daily in our faces, begging for an angry outburst or a "Why God?" We face questions like, "Are we doing everything wrong? Did we make the wrong choice? What is going on here?"

We ask, "Is this something we are supposed to run through... or away from?"

We are kind of at several crossroads at once, considering several long-term decisions.

And, you know what is great about this time? I am learning so much about me.

You see, I've worked long and hard to become the "me" I am. I consider (considered?) this version of me to be pretty cool. I don't know if growing up in a Christian home can do that to a person, but "it" had happened to me.

I totally rely on Jesus for all that I am, but perhaps--all I am is not all God wants me to be.

I have been thinking a lot about that little thing many call "The School of Life". How the whole point of life, it seems, is the completely change you. As the fire and hammer change a lump of iron into whatever the blacksmith desires.

Even as I write this, it seems somewhat obvious, I mean--hellooo? Have I even read the Bible? Of course I have... as have many of you. But, I am talking about big change. As in, it seems that God creates us with a certain personality, a certain way of seeing things, a certain way of interpreting what happens... and then works in us to mold us into the opposite of that.

Like He wants to take the timid, man-pleasing person--make them strong and worried only about God's opinion.

Like He wants to take the strong-willed, "everythingisblackandwhite" person--and soften them into a person that can listen to and really consider others' opinions.

Like He may possible want to take this no secrets, "neverwanttobeinonespottoolong" person and teach her to guard her words and learn to be content with where she is (among other things!).

I was thinking about the whole "change is the point" concept while driving home from the grocery store the other day. I reflected on how often God reveals His overall plan or view of things through nature. And then I realized. What thing in nature stays the same?? Nothing! Not from seeds, to leaves, to a rippling creek. Everything God has created is constantly changing, constantly becoming more beautiful, more unique.



Verses like the words of Jesus came to mind: "Unless a seed falls into the ground and dies... it cannot bear fruit."

Sadly, I know people that have strong-armed their way through life. Who have let none of the shaping or chipping or pressing that has come upon them in life to change them. Who are just as selfish, unhappy and unfulfilled as they were 20 years ago. There really isn't anything sadder.

So, here I am. Trying to embrace this season of change. Trying to believe that what I have been up until now may not exactly be what God wants me to be from this day forward. Being excited that God is so awesome and so interested in me.

Here's a song that's a-singin' in my mind...