I was feeling all sorts of bummed out Saturday night when my own mother was rubbing her ‘moon pics’ in my face. Here in Michigan, the moon was shrouded in a sea of milky clouds. As much as I willed them to move aside, they just wouldn’t. And apparently in Florida where the Christmas season means you might get down to a chilly 50 degrees at night, the moon shone in all her splendor. The good news is that Sunday morning that moon was ridiculous bright. At 5:50. That’s a.m. I mean, I did thank the Lord for hearing my prayer and answering it so I could see that sucker but then I asked him why He is so humorous as to wake me up on one of my two days to sleep in. He hasn’t answered yet.
I have to apologize in advance because I’m posting out of order. Is that ok? I mean, I guess I don’t have to ask but I don’t want you upset with me. Are you upset? Eh, it will be okay and you’ll get over it. I have to tell you a ridiculous story. I have to tell you something that will warm your heart on this chilly fall
pre-winter evening. And if it doesn’t, I hope your under a blanket and ate soup for dinner. And, you might not even have a soul.
I went for a drive today. I didn’t start with a destination in mind; it was actually more of a ‘anywhere but here’ style departure. I found my way towards Holland (second day in a row. i love that town.) and then, well … I headed north. I just felt like driving. I’m sorry. I can’t help but channel Forrest Gump sometimes. I stopped as much as I could all the while sensing I would end my route in Ludington. It made for a long day and seriously, a race into PJ Hoffmaster State Park when, at the last minute, I decided not to head home the quicker way, but to try and catch the remnants of the ridiculous sunset. I ran towards the beach and as the older folks were talking about how they were too late, I smiled because I’d just made it. Continue reading
It is God who arms me with strength
and keeps my way secure.
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
he causes me to stand on the heights.
-Psalm 18:32-33 (HCSB)
I had the opportunity to witness a ‘drop the mic’-like situation happen at work this week. We were nearing the conclusion of our monthly all-staff meeting. And it was one for the books. The energy was awesome, people were engaged and we just had some really great content shared throughout. Also, on another positive note, I’d only been made fun of about six times (which is basically par for the course #easytarget). But when Mike (our office lead, aka big cheese) concluded the meeting with an acknowledgement that we have a choice to make, it struck me. It wasn’t just about work for me. It was about all the things.
Most often, I’d say after three months and five parts, you have to find a conclusion. There is honestly so much more I could share but I’ve lost my voice this last couple of weeks (mostly literally) from this lovely pneumonia-ish thing that’s flung me back with a reminder I’m just not in control. I’ve really felt for those who struggle to breathe due to chronic illnesses or worse. You have my utmost respect for the patience you must find on a daily basis.
But, Guatemala. Last I left you we’d finished our Wednesday and we were hungry for more. Today, I’m going to do my best to limit the words (no voice, remember!) and share photos of what our final two and a half days were like. Honestly, there aren’t enough words in all of ever to talk about Friday or the Saturday morning we departed. That’s what photos are for. So with that, let’s wrap it up.
This week has been a hard one. So, my heart is looking for some reminders of what it felt like to be in Guatemala. Mike actually told me he missed my Guatemala face. I am pretty sure I got some sun? I definitely didn’t look Guatemalan, though. But really, I looked healthy and happy and not exhausted (like I do). I miss that place and that feeling of just … peace. Life just isn’t a rush there. I’m sure for many of our friends that move their lives to Guat the wait for nearly everything, e.g. car insurance, can send one into hysterics, but honestly, what’s the rush? Just like mornings on the roof, breakfast arrival at 8 and frozen mango cups you can drill at with a plastic spoon for an eternity if you’d like (still such a great idea, Anita!), the pace is just less frantic than here in the States.
Are you ready to talk Tuesday? Isn’t that how they always tell people to keep going … one day at a time? I mean, I don’t want to rush it or anything. To be honest, I kind of love that this takes forever because every time I get to write about Guatemala again, my heart starts to swell and I feel super happy. But I also realize that we’re aging. So, I’ll get right to it.
I know it’s super hard to believe that we’d only arrived at my team’s very first day in Guatemala last we connected but I also know you can’t be surprised by my wordiness by now. #amiright?
I remember that morning so vividly. I woke up to a phone call from my mom. She sounded shaken and shared the news about my dear friend Paul. Early that morning, the morning of April 5, 2013, he had been overcome when a fire broke out in his home. He was gone. And I sat on the floor and cried.