Seeing things...

I know that people always say the body and the mind are really great at self protecting, allowing themselves only to see and process what they can handle... I believed that theory, based on what others had told me, but now I can say I believe that theory, based on my own experience.

We've been back a little over a year now... and I'm officially seeing things. No, not in a creepy Sixth Sense way, but in a sweet memories flooding back in way... This past week I've walked up to the ticket counter of the Cine Center and bought an entrada... I've ridden the escalator upstairs (or walked the stairs if the escalator was, as it more than not, out of order :) and ordered popcorn, mitad salada, mitad dulce.

I've bought a 6 pack of 2 liter water bottles to keep in the pantry as a back-up for emergencies from my favorite corner store. They've asked me why I don't have the boys with me, and how they're doing. I tell them crazy as ever and together we laugh :)

I've walked across the street and bought eggs from Patricia and stayed for half an hour as we talked about the boys, their schools, and our families far away, her's in Chile, mine in the states.

I've walked El Prado to the Conexion Cristiana and hugged Gabi's neck (our amazing team secretary) and distracted her for far too long as we talked about prayers needed, prayers answered and everything in between.

I've walked the market, smelling the fresh fruits and vegetables... buying kilos of this and that, carrying them home by the bag fulls to wash, clean, cook and enjoy.

I've walked around the corner for a scoop of pistachio ice cream from my favorite heladeria.

I've sat at the counter of a dear friend, over a cup of coffee made with love. We talked of the struggles of living life as missionaries, far from "home". We talk of new things we've found around town, new things going on with our children, new things going on in ministry, and we share a moment between friends who know the blessing of friendship that God places in our lives' for a beautiful season, to teach us and show us His loving kindness!

I've sat in the fellowship of those that I love, looking around me at the faces, those I've known for years now, and knowing there are new ones I pray one day I'll meet. I heard the gospel in a language that once was difficult to follow, but that now my heart misses feeling on my tongue. We sang the songs that at first were so hard and frustrating to me in a different language, but that now I use as lullabies for my babies, letting their lyrics and music transport me to their bedroom in our home on Calle Venezuela. It's been a bittersweet week...

And I know that had this week come a year ago, six months ago, or even six weeks ago I wouldn't have been ready. My heart, my mind, and my God knew that I just wasn't there, not ready to go back, even in my imaginary world. But apparently it's time to continue on this journey of letting go of one "home" to re-enter the old one...

I miss the feel of Cochabamba streets under my feet, the sound of the city, the kisses on the cheek and the way the hours passed with friends with no one rushing around. This week reminded me that it's ok to miss those things... only means that they really happened, really captured my heart, and really still live there for me to draw on when my heart is lonely for Bolivia. Cochabamba, Until I can walk your streets in person, I'll keep walking them in my heart...

Letting Go...

Tomorrow I will put my first born on a bus.

It will be early morning... we will have rushed around trying to make it from Brownwood to Brady... I will be sipping coffee trying to clear the morning fog from my brain... he will be ecstatic with the promise of a field trip with his friends to a pumpkin patch (he's been counting down the days)... I hope that on the outside I will be cool as a cucumber because I know that on the inside I will be freaking out...

In my head I know that the bus driver is licensed, safe and will take good care of my Nathan... that his teacher will be there every step of the way to make sure he is well cared for. I know it all in my head, but my heart keeps having flashbacks... the memories of two years ago, the international phone call, the news of a tragic bus crash, the loss of three precious and beautiful lives', the mourning, the tears, the lives' cut short, and all the knowledge in my head can't keep my heart from free falling into panic...

Buses crash, people die, and hearts are broken... I'm praying with every fiber of my being that the God who saw us through those dark dark days, will watch over my son, the firstborn of my body and my heart, and that he will step off that bus tomorrow afternoon filled with excitement over new experiences, the promise of watching God's creation and the amazing way that He grows things in this world. But most of all that he will step off that bus... safe... and... sound...

Lord, I know that he's your's first, that he's only mine for a short time... watch over him, place your hand of protection on him, bring him home safely, and please Lord, give me your peace and comfort as I wait...