there is so much to share in this space.
a new home. (our safe palace in K-town)
throwback trips (Egypt, NorthWest, Summer)
life in two places
life in K-town (-summer questions answered here)
it is my hope and plan that all of those and more are shared soon.
but until then i leave you with part of Donald Miller's Through Painted Deserts: Light, God, and Beauty on the Open Road...
“And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it?
It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.
I want to repeat one word for you:
Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed.”
posted on: Thursday, June 4, 2015
I should have written months ago. about our time in Armenia. about my first birthday in Kuwait back in April. about the last real month of school in May. about our move from a tiny house to our safe palace on the beach. but here we are in June with 12 days before we fly home for a summer of reunions and inshallah rest. the lack of our presence here certainly does not reflect in the fullness of life the last few months.
in short our trip to armenia was a beautiful and cold one. in a good way it made us happy k-town is our home. that our family here is ours. we also learned that there are many different paths open to us. so so so many hungry hearts. so much darkness to shine on. so many desperately in need of love extended.
turning 27 wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. we were certain we would have at least one little one by now. school debt has gotten in the way. but we’re coming to terms with the fact that unless a miracle comes it’s a mountain we can choose to face. it’s a funny thing feeling young and old at once. when people say I’m not old I want to pinch them. i am the oldest version of myself yet… so I can be old to me. just let me be! i also think of all that has happened so quickly. i might not have babies. but i have loved and mother at least 20 little ones. i have a master’s degree and a tesol certificate and a year of teaching under my belt. i live in the ME! i have shared and am sharing life with SO MANY PEOPLE. life hasn’t always been easy or what I planned but it has certainly been made good.
my first birthday here was the richest I’ve had yet. not only because of the dear ones I was tangibly able to celebrate. but because of the love and peace and hope I felt extending from everywhere.
moving from our tiny house to our safe palace has been one of our greatest physical gifts this year. we are sharing our new home with my best here. and with our raises and stipends not paying 1 penny (or fill) more. we can walk to the sea. or to the village. it is safe. it is entirely beautiful. it is a really really good thing. Bonus? the guest bedroom. COME VISIT!
and now I’m sitting in an empty classroom. a classroom where I made memories as my first year teaching little ones. is the year already gone? so many lessons. a few tears shed. a lot of sweat. a lot of hugs. a lot of….”MS! MS!” a whole lot of “GINA!”’s buckets and hearts were filled. head aches and tummy aches and heart aches healed. life was spoken. courage poured out. kids who said they couldn’t and wouldn’t thriving. small and big leaps taken. so much reward. 19 little smiling faces with some much hope and promise.
and in 12 days we will be walking off an airplane onto the soil of my homeland. hugging and kissing too many faces to count. into a summer full of space to remember, rich with promise and hope and joy and love.
these were the big moments that made up march 2015. and within the big ones, smaller ones that mean everything.
when we felt homesick for kuwait. when we were sure of our community and the way we live life.
when i felt braver than i've felt before. like nothing can stand between me and the miracles.
when we felt at home in a south african palace.
when i went to the equivalent of kuwaiji grammys. and saw life under the veil. when others were shocked i didn't know arabic.
when i jumped in the bounce house with my girls.
when i dreamt about my students. about the little boy who hasn't made a sound since his first day of first grade. where i prayed and declared and found victory in my dreams. and woke up the next day, to find them coming true.
when i saw the joy on a mothers face. seeing and knowing victory. tasting belovedness.
when words came after the steps of faith. and spoke life just the same.
when we sat around a table with people who love us and who celebrated the boy i love the most.
when i ate fettuccine while every else ate salad, and felt okay with it.
when we trusted for favour and found it.
when his interview last 1.5 hours. and meant getting to work at both places.
when a group of youngins, like us, came and danced and laughed and healed.
when i felt safe in their prayers and embrace.
when i chose to make a sacrifice. and was rewarded with peace and hope for the future.
when we traveled to a place that makes up a fifth of who i am.
when we heard armenian, english, norwegian, portuguese, and russian all spoken under one roof.
when we missed our homes like crazy.