Where you go, I will go; where you live, I will live. Your people will be my people for your God is my God.

Friday, September 30, 2011


We have.....
  • Moved! We moved a week ago and I still wake up in our little house and can hardly believe it. We have quickly learned there will always be one more thing to do when owning a home, but we are enjoying every second have it.
  • Loved being together more. Our home is closer to Rafa's job and a bit farther from everything else we know here, so we have been spending plenty of time in our home, just the two of us.
  • That being said, I think we have had more people around our table this week than in the last month we were in the apartment. A full house is always a delight!
  • Passed way to much time at the local fair. It came to town the first day we were in our house. Because the entrance is free and its only a couple blocks away, our evening walks have often lead us there.
  • Taken pictures. But none of them seem to be around when I am on the internet. One day, one day soon.

Monday, September 19, 2011

La Primera Vista

{I wrote an English version of this post several months ago.  If you would like to see it, please click here. It’s been two years today.}

Me despierto y trato a enfocarme. ¡¿Donde en el mundo estaba yo?! Escucho hablando que n puedo entender. Me visto y me pregunto qué debo que hacer. Abro tantito la puerta a descubrir un cuatro lleno de varias cosas pasando, la mesa está llena de genta, mas personas paradas, y aun mas ponían la comida en la mesa. Aun que ya estoy completamente despierta, no entiendo nada de lo que pasa ni de lo que hablan. Todos están practicando en el idioma que vine a aprender: español. Uno por uno cada cara se me presenta y me dicen que luego me van a poner examen de sus nombres. Yo pretendo que ya me se cada nombre, pero la verdad ni tengo idea como se llaman. Conocí a unos, incluyendo las únicas dos muchachas, la noche antes, los demás son un misterio. El momento que acaban de comer, todos se levantan para irse, con la excepción de los dones de la casa. No tengo idea que hacer, entonces empico a lavar los trates, pero me dicen que debo que dejarlos. Un matrimonial joven con sus tres niños {incluyendo una bebe} lleguen y todos nos subimos a la Suburban. Vamos por un ratito y empicamos a subir un lado de la montana. En el camino suba más gente que estaba caminando. Un temple con cientos de personas nos esperaba arriba.

Una boda.

Ofrezco a cargar la bebe. Siempre uso los bebes come un tipo de seguridad cuando no quiero la atención. Además, esta babe es dulce y no llora mucho. Alguien me llama la atención. Uno de los muchachos que estaba en la casa en la mañana… ¿cómo se llamaba? Quién sabe. Tiene sus brazos extendidos a indicar que quiere cargar la bebe. Muevo mi cabeza a decirle que “no”. Nadie me iba  a quitar mi seguridad. Estaba yo contenta como estaba.

{El dia de la boda en Tzancolco. El dia que nos conocimos…}Imagen137

Lo que yo no sabía era qud ese muchacho me iba robar el corazón y en menos que 16 meses se iba casar conmigo.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Spelling, English and Learning.

Lunch is cooking again.  Seems like that is pretty much always the case when I sit down to write.  Morning chores finished, lunch on its way to being done, and wondering when the man will be home. 

These moments are ones that I often find myself with pen in hand, journal and bible open in front of me.   I have never been disciplined enough to spend time in quietness first thing in the morning.  My mind gets distracted too quickly with the to-do list for the day.  Laundry started before the sun is high and warm, quick trips to the produce stand, and that sort of thing.  But these quite moments before lunch and then again in the evening, are precious, reviving the soul. 

My days are busy now.  Well I should say *busier*.  They are still far from busy, but rather full and joy filled.  Since school has started back up, I have been teaching English classes more frequently.  I teach 4-5 times a week in the late afternoons.  The average age of the class is 7-years-old, and the majority are male.  There has not been a boring class yet! Between answering questions like “How do you say, "’His apple makes me want to puke?!’”  and “How do you say ‘I dare you to kiss her?’” I think they are actually learning something. 

I am as well.  Anyone who knows me knows about my lack of spelling skills. They have greatly improved over the past few years, but they are still not where they should be.   Normally this is not too much of an issue thanks to things like spell check.  But when you are teaching your language to someone else, you *should*  be able to spell words correctly.  Each class I have a time for questions.  The other day one of the boys asked to say “parrot”  in English. I told him, then dictated letter by letter as he wrote it in his notebook.  One of the older students looked at me funny and questioned, “Then what does p-a-r-r-o-t spell?”  I looked down at how I had told the other boy to spell “parrot” and realized it was misspelled.  Go figure.  So Mexican children are teaching me to spell in English.  Lovely.  Like I said we are all learning :) 

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Green Bean Memories.

I am standing in the corner vegetable store. The produce changes regularly due to the seasons, and I need to find something just right to round out today’s lunch.  I quickly scan the small store and my eye lands on green beans.  Perfect! I make a couple of other purchases and hurry home. The hour is late and time has slipped away from me yet again. 

I take the beans to the sink clean them, snap of the ends, and add them to a pot of water to boil.  The water from the faucet hits the beans and the smell of freshly picked green beans fills my nose. 

I go back. 

Back to a time over a dozen years ago.  A time when only squabbles with my brother about who’s turn it was to feed the baby her oatmeal and territorial fights with my sisters, where the only things that made my world a little less than perfect. 

I am sitting in our tree house with my sister.  We had grocery bags full of fresh green beans pilled around us.  We had just picked them from our summer garden.  In our minds of course, we were not in a tree house in the 1990’s in Georgia, but off some extreme wilderness fighting for survival against the natives and preparing for a harsh winter. {There *may* have been a Little House element to it, but I like to think we were just creative, self-entertaining, brilliant children.}    We spent hours snapping beans {which my mother later cleaned and froze}, keeping house, and making blood pacts.  We somehow always survived.  {Or one of us got mad and stomped off into the house, thus ending our adventures.} 

I am back in the present now.  My green beans are cooked and waiting for a certain handsome man to come home.  I wonder where those days have gone and who plays in that tree house now…?  Where do they go?  What adventures do they have?