Staying Connected

During a phone call with my mom this evening, something was finally put into words than I've felt at times while away from our friends and family this year. My mom, a former missionary herself, mentioned that after receiving letters about what everyone back home was doing together, she often felt left out. That her family had forgotten all about her. And something clicked deep within.

That's exactly how I've felt on occasion: after looking at the pictures of family fun together. Or hearing about programs at church we would've participated in but missed. Seeing pictures of my baby nephew as he grew up---in a completely different country than his Aunt, Uncle, and cousins.

Of course, I know our family and friends have not forgotten about us, any more than we have forgotten about them. Yet, this is still something we've experienced. This is the part of being a missionary that nobody warned me about. Or if they did, maybe I wasn't listening or didn't take it to heart. Yes, there would be moments of culture shock or moments of sheer homesickness. But feeling like your family had forgotten about you? Hadn't thought about that one.

On the flip side, I haven't necessarily gone out of my way to reach out to our family and friends, either. We have a phone with a US phone number that we pay a monthly fee for regardless of how much or little we use it. Communication is not a strong suit of mine. It's far easier to type in a note on Facebook, "like" a comment, or shoot a quick email than to make the effort at real communication.

So if I've felt forgotten, maybe my family and friends have too. And in a digital age when mail doesn't have to take more than a few weeks, or we can pick up the phone and make a call without it costing a small fortune, there really is not excuse for not staying connected. This realization is as freeing as it is convicting.

And so, my family and friends, I will try to do better at staying connected. Not just for my sense of connectivity, but for yours as well. Just as we want to feel a part of what's going on in your life, I know you want to be a part of ours.

65,000 Words and A New Goal

Tonight, I inched across the 65,000 word count on my novel. 65,000 words. That is huge!

There's not much more of the story to tell, and so I doubt I'll reach my goal of 75,000 words. But I'm okay with that. 65,000 - 70,000 words for a first novel is pretty good, isn't it? It's certainly the longest story I've ever written, and definitely the most time I've put into writing.

My new completion goal is to finish by October so that I can send it off to the publisher's. I haven't a clue how long the editing process takes, but it would be really cool if it were ready for publishing by Christmas. What an amazing Christmas gift that would make----for me. Regardless of whether or not anyone else actually buys my book, knowing I actually finished one is reward enough for me.

Present Tense

Lately, so many little things seem to annoy me:

The never ending mess in the house. Clean up one room, turn around for five minutes, and it's dirty again. The sheer frustration of mopping the floor one afternoon and that evening walking around with black feet because the dirt has crept in under the door and soiled the floor all over again.

The one tiny little Lego that maliciously crept to the middle of the stairway just as I was innocently walking down the stairs barefoot. The tidal wave of stuff that threatens havoc on each of the rooms in the house. Seriously--where did it all come from?? We didn't arrive here with much, I promise. It's worse than those obnoxious kid's meal toys that accumulated around our previous house faster than rabbits.

The endless amount of homework and studying. I'll shortly be 38 years old, and I have a husband and four kids to be a wife and mom to. Who has time for homework or studying? There ought to be a law prohibiting homework after you turn 25. You can easily spot the third trimester students on campus. We're the ones stumbling around like the walking dead, mumbling conjugations under our breaths. Most of us have absorbed so many of the these that they've squeezed out other information in our heads. Information that used to be important---like our names, for example. I had a middle name once, but who can remember? I can remember my kids' full names at this point only because they insist on writing them out on every drawing they make.

Never being able to go anywhere as a family without walking, stuffing ourselves on city buses like sardines in a can, or shelling out the big bucks for two taxis. The feeling of truly being hunters and gatherers as we patronize at least four different stores each month just for our grocery staples. Sometimes the one thing I miss the most about our life in the States is the ability to drive (drive!) to Kroger or Walmart and purchase everything on my list without breaking the bank.

Probably the biggest thing that annoys me right now is the waiting. Waiting to finish language school. Waiting to get to Mexico. I've gotten so focused on the next step that I've mentally checked out. After all, haven't we been waiting 14 years for this (from the time we received our calling to Mexico way back in college)? I think a little excitement is allowed, right?

Right?

And then yesterday I was dumbfounded when my youngest son began crying in earnest. Thinking he was hurt, I asked him what was the matter. "I don't want to leave!" he wailed. He and the other children have, in our short time here, really embraced Costa Rica and the people they've met. This is home to them. Their thoughts are not already in Mexico, as ours are. They are here. In the present. Living each moment to the fullest extent. There are friends to play with, friends to say goodbye to. Tests to take. Parties to enjoy. Still an entire summer to be enjoyed.

I realized tonight that if I spent every waking minute cataloging all of the things that annoy me, or allow myself to mentally check out of my time here, I will miss a great deal. I'll miss meaningful relationships. Miss valuable lessons God may be trying to teach me. God has placed us here. Now. For this duration. Yes, I'll continue to be tired. Would that change in Mexico? Probably not. Yes, my house will continue to be messier than I'd like. Will that change in Mexico? Definitely not. True, I won't have homework. But there will be a number of things that require my time and attention as well. And if I continue to focus on the negatives--things that I can't change, by the way--I'll essentially be letting my grumpiness steal the joy I could find in each moment.

We've spent a lot of time in my grammar classes studying the past tense. It's complicated. There are three forms to describe past tense. We've also studied future tense. It's not a picnic in the park, either. Perhaps the easiest to work with is the present tense. I think there's a lesson there. Not that life now is easy. Far from it. The present tense has it's irregularities to deal with. Just like daily living. But taken as a whole, if I focus on enjoying each moment, each day, things are a lot less complicated.

Just like the present tense.

What Makes a House a Home?

Since yesterday's post, I've been thinking a lot about Yankee Candles, home, and how scents can make you feel home. That got me to wondering: what makes a house a home? What is the difference between a residence to spend your days and nights in, and a home where a family lives?

Only one of the homes we've lived in has been anything remotely considered big (and even that one would still be small on many standards), which has been interesting considering we are a family of six. But we've made it work. I may not have have been in love with our previous house, for example, but for seven years, it was home. Why? What was it about the house that made it home?

Of course, home is anywhere my family is. That's a given. But it's more than that, as our arrival at this house in our transitional country showed me in August. Our former house was lovingly decorated by me. We own a mishmash of furniture, none of it anything remotely resembling quality (with perhaps the exception of our bed) furniture. We don't own any expensive paintings---all of our wall coverings were Thomas Kinkade jigsaw puzzles I'd pieced together, glued, and then framed. Nothing fancy. Our family pictures were encased in cheap, Walmart frames. The biggest extravagance in the house were the Yankee Candles I'd collected over the years.

My in-laws, former missionaries themselves, had wisely advised me to bring all of my cherished pictures and knick-knacks that made home home for me. But as we're only gone for two years this time, I really didn't think I'd need these things. And let's face it, glued-together puzzles would most likely not travel well. So, they went into storage. With all of our other pictures and knick-knacks (and my candles). We did bring a digital photo album that had a bunch of different family pictures on it. Those, I deemed at the time, would be the most important thing tying us to home.

But I was wrong.

In all honesty, I haven't turned it on above five times. And those times it was on, I did it more for the kids than for me. I haven't really even missed my lovely framed puzzles. Our walls look extremely bare, but that is because there are few nails (and it's very hard to hang pictures on cement walls) on which to hang pictures. So, we've compensated by hanging things from the ceiling. You think I kid, but I do not. We made colorful autumn leaves out of construction paper and hung those this fall. At Christmas, we decorated construction paper trees, ornaments, and candy canes (with glitter!) and hung those. We intended to do spring flowers, but haven't quite gotten to them yet, so the white strings still hang from the ceiling, waiting for the next decorations.

The one thing, surprisingly, that has helped me feel the most at home were those candles! Who knew? For some missionaries, it might be different things. For me, it was scent. Cinnamony scents in the autumn. Pepperminty scents at Christmas. And now, springy, fruity scents for spring and summer. All make this house home. When I walk in the door, the scent of the candles greets me and instantly soothes.

I look forward to making our next house a home in Mexico City. And you can bet that it will include Yankee Candles.

Intentional Thankfulness

Each November, just in time for Thanksgiving, there are those who turn to social media and post one thing they are thankful for each day of the month. It is amazing how the atmosphere of Facebook changes overnight. Instead of endless political diatribes, or hurtful, negative commentaries about people's lives, my Facebook newsfeed is filled to overflowing with things my friends are thankful for. And I love it. And relish each post.

In chapel this morning, we were reminded about the intentionality of thankfulness. A thankful heart is not something innate, not something we were born with. On the contrary, our tendency is to be negative. Selfish. Demanding. And so it takes great effort...intentionality...to refocus our attention outwards again. Joel talked to us about the importance of keeping a thankful heart before God---in every circumstance. It's a hard concept, yes, and must be something we achieve through constant, continual practice. But what I love about this idea is that instead of being defined by my problems or trials, God gets the glory and we're reminded of not only how He's worked in our lives in the past, but how He's using even the tough times to help us grow and mature in Christ.

So, I want to bring back a little bit of that November Thanksgiving attitude. Here are a few things I am thankful for this afternoon. And of course, I am so grateful for my family, friends, and my Savior. Those should be on everyone's list! But how about some other things we might not think about? May my list inspire you to create one of your own!

This afternoon, I am thankful for...

1. ...time alone. Especially after my mommy meltdown from a couple nights ago (read the blog entry. It wasn't pretty). Troy and the boys are at soccer practice, and the girls are at the neighbors' house playing for awhile.

2. ...the sound of the rain. It is a gentle rain, not the rip-through-metal rain we had the other day. And it is so peaceful.

3. ...my growing Yankee Candle collection here in Costa Rica. Over the last couple years, I had amassed quite a collection of candles and accessories, but I chose to leave them all behind in storage rather than run the risk of anything being broken or lost. Boy, was that a mistake! I had no idea how important candles had become to me, or how much I identified those delicious smells with home. I will never forget the joy I felt when we found a few small candles at a Hallmark store in a nearby mall. Cinnamon! Black cherry! Heaven. Some people might call my collection selfish or unnecessary. But it isn't unnecessary to me. These familiar scents connect this house to my feeling of home. And when you're living in a foreign country, surrounded by a new language, that is a very huge deal.

4. ...my teapot. Who knew a kitchen device could be so important to a person? Especially when I'm always letting my tea steep so long it grows cold and has to be microwaved anyway?

5. ...a warm cup of tea. Made with a dash of milk and a couple teaspoons of sugar.

6. ...chocolate.

7. ...my "Pride & Prejudice" movie soundtrack. If you've never listened to it before, you have no idea what you're missing out on. I'm not usually a big classical music fan. Instead, I tend to prefer 80s and early 90s music (or contemporary Christian). But this is the one CD I turn to again and again when I am stressed and need to relax. I played it Tuesday during my mommy meltdown, as a matter of fact.

May God help me to remember to continually turn to Him in thankfulness. For all the good times. And for all the bad. What if you and I each wrote down one thing we were thankful for every day for a year? What would that look like? How might our lives--and the lives of others around us--be changed? Something to think--and pray--about.

 Edit: It occurred to me that it's easy to thank God for the lovely things, like my candles. But it's a lot harder to thank Him for the hard things. And so I want to add one more thing I'm thankful for.

8. ...for my kids' fights and times they frustrate me. Why? Because it shows me I need to work on my patience. I am not a patient person. I'm fully aware of that, but never more so than when I'm screaming at my child because she's chewing gum in my ear, of all things. Really? Is that worth screaming about? No. My kids are normal kids who need Jesus every moment of every day. Just like me. Their fights---and my reaction to them---are an instant reminder of my weakness and should inspire me to cry out to Him for help.

The Hardest Job I'll Ever Have

The hardest job I'll ever have has nothing to do with writing. Nor does it relate to any anti-human trafficking efforts I'll someday (Lord willing) make. It's not even the 2 or 3 year stint as my church's nursery director, although that's closer to the mark than anything else.

No.

The hardest job I'll ever have is one I began on March 9, 2000--the day my oldest child was born.

Motherhood is the hardest job I will ever have. (I feel like that sentence should be in giant, bold letters.)

Some days, it's the biggest joy of my life. Hearing the kids giggle together over something silly. My youngest son coming to me the other day saying, "Y'know one thing I'm thankful for? I'm thankful for Clayton, because he helps me. He taught me how to make a circle with tape and now we're making a poster for our door." Having them play for hours together without fights.

But other days....

Like today for instance. I had just reached a level where I'd had enough. Enough of the many questions. Enough of the smacking while chewing gum (and in my ear, no less). Enough of the noise. Enough of the whining. And because I'm trying very hard to be a better mommy and not yell (a horribly bad habit I've gotten into), I was struggling to hold the shattered threads of my will together. But they were not making it easy. In desperation, I begged for just a few moments of peace. Just a few moments where nobody talked to mommy. Unfortunately, because of my past actions, as soon as I was even the least little bit short, and because I kept pleading (very emphatically) for them to give me a few minutes alone, they didn't understand. One of my children thought it was because of her. She looked at me, giant eyes swimming in tears, and wailed that nobody would let her talk. I pulled her onto my lap and something within me broke. I cried and cried. She looked at me, baffled as to why mommy was crying. But it wasn't something I could even explain to her.

I can tell my husband I need some space and he understands and leaves me alone. But this is something my children--at least the younger two--do not yet understand. To them, if I do not want to sit next to them, answering a million questions, or listening to every detail of their day, I am angry with them. Not so, not so. Sometimes, mommies just need a break. I know someday they'll understand that concept. But it didn't help us today.

I read a blog the other day that talked about how horrible motherhood is and that women with no children really have no concept of how awful it is. Something deep within me shrank away from this. That is not at all the message I want to convey. Yes, it is definitely not the portrait given us by Norman Rockwell and his ilk. It's messy. And unpleasant. And painful. And tedious. And there are days, like today for me, where you feel like you would give the last piece of chocolate in your hidden stash for 5 minutes alone behind a locked door. With no interruptions. But it's also not something awful, either. Even on my most sleep-deprived day, covered in spit-up (or worse), with the house a sty around me, I could still hold my babies in my arms and marvel over them (this was best done while they were asleep, of course, and is why, I'm convinced, God made them look so angelic as they sleep). 

It's not awful. It's. Just. Hard.

But aren't the hardest things in life often the most rewarding? If everything was easy, would we appreciate it as much? If not for those hair-raising fights my kids get into most mornings, I would be unable to really appreciate the moments of laughter. Of shared fun together. Or when they surprise me with comments like my son's.

There isn't a title on this earth representing anything I have ever done, or will ever do, as important as the one I have now: mom.

It's hard. No doubt. But so worthwhile. And until my kids fully understand the concept of "alone time" or until I become a more patient person (whichever comes first), I will just have to rely on God to help me get through days like today.

Lenguaje Bible Study (Language Bible Study)

(The following is the devotional I wrote for my lenguaje final. It is in English and Spanish. It is the first time I really made the effort to write something and translate it into Spanish all on my own, without just plugging it into an online translator. I only used the translator once for one sentence, as it was abstract, and restricted myself to using only my Spanish dictionary for the rest. This is a testimony to how far God has brought me in the last eight months--in the last month, really.)

Exodus 17:8-16

After leaving Egypt, the Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years because they did not obey God. During this time, groups of people in the land attacked them. One of these were the Amalekites.

Moses said to Joshua, "Choose some of our men and go out to fight the Amalekites. Tomorrow I will stand on top of the hill with the staff of God in my hands."

So, Joshua lead the Israelites against the Amalekites. Moses, Aaron, and Hur climbed the hill and stayed. While Moses raised his hands, the Israelites were winning. But, Moses' hands grew tired and he lowered them. When this happened, the Amalekites were winning. As long as Moses' hands were raised, they were winning. Aaron and Hur got a rock for him to sit on. Then, when his arms grew tired, they held his hands up -- one on one side, one on the other. In this way, they remained steady until sunset. God gave the Israelites the victory over the Amalekites.

Moses' arms were raised for hours and hours. Try raising your arms in the air for five minutes and see how difficult, how painful it is. I imagine they were sore and shaky. I imagine he wanted so badly to rest his arms. But God had told him to keep them raised for a purpose.

God may ask us to do things that are hard or painful for us to do. Things we, like Moses, can't do on our own. He prompted Aaron and Hur to support Moses by holding up his arms. Just as Moses needed supporters, so do we. We need people to pray for us unceasingly. We need people to work alongside of us. We need people to encourage us.

But just as Moses' arms grew tired, I imagine the arms of Aaron and Hur grew tired as well. Yet there was no one there to hold their arms.

We are missionaries and ministers of the gospel need people to come alongside of us and hold our arms as we minister, yes. But we also need to pray for and encourage those who support us in this way. Aaron and Hur could literally see the results of their efforts -- the Israelites were victorious! But our supporters, often times, do not have the luxury of being on the battlefield with us. It should be our joy to share with them the rewards of our labors -- stories of lives changed, prayers answered, and miracles given.

Éxodo 17:8-16

Después de que los israelitas salieron de egypto, ellos anduvieron por el desierto por 40 años porque ellos no le obedecían a Dios. Durante ese tiempo, grupos de gentes en la tierra atacaban a los israelitas. Unos eran los amalecitas.

Moisés le dijo a Josué, "Escoge algunos de nuestros hombres y sal a combatir a los amalecitas. Mañana yo estaré en la cima de la colina con la vara de Dios en la mano."

Entonces, Josué se dirigió a los israelitas contra los amalecitas. Moisés, Aarón y Jur escalaron la cima y se quedaran. Mientras Moisés levantó las manos, los israelitas ganaron. Pero, las manos de él se cansaron y las bajó. Cuando eso aconteció, los amalecitas ganaron. Aarón y Jur fundaron una piedra para que Moisés se sentora. Entonces, ellos le agarraron los brazos a Moisés y se los levantaron -- uno a cada lado. De ese modo, ellos se quedaron constantes hasta la puesta del sol. Dios les dio a los israelitas la victoria sobre los amalecitas.

Los brazos de Moisés se levantaron por horas y horas. Usted trata de levantar sus brazos por cinco minutos y ve que dificil y que doloroso es esto. Yo pensé que los brazos de Moisés sería doloridos. Yo pensé que los querría descansar. Pero, Dios le dijó que los levantara por un propósito.

Dios podrá pedirnos hacer algunas cosas dificiles o dolorosas para nosotros. Cosas, como Moisés, nosotros no podriámos hacer solos.

Dios se dirigió a Aarón y Jur y les pidio que apoyabaron a Moisés para que levantaron sus brazos. Como Moisés necesitó apoyo, así nosotros. Necesitamos a las personas que oraren constantemente. Necesitamos a las personas que trabajen con nosotros. Necesitamos a las personas que nos den ánimo.

Pero, como los brazos de Moisés se cansaron, yo pensé lo mismo para Aarón y Jur. Aún, no hay personas que levanten sus brazos.

Nosotros, como misioneros y ministerios del evangelio necesitamos a la gente que venga y levanta nuestros brazos mientras nosotros ministramos, sí. Pero, nosotros tenemos que orar por aquellas personas que nos apoyan. Aarón y Jur pudieron ver el resultado de su esfuerza -- los israelitas tuvieron la victoria. Pero, muchas veces, nuestro apoyo no tiene el lujo de estar en el campo de batalla con nosotros y ser testigo de esas victorias. Nosotros debemos compartir con ellos las recompensas de nuestro trabajado -- historias de vida cambiadas, oraciones contestadas y milagros dados.