Portaging
"Do you sell road atlases here?"
Pause.
"You mean, like, a map?"
And thus began our first day back in the United States. After trekking throughout the city of El Paso looking for some form of non-electronic navigating tool (rather unsuccessfully), and facing some very confused sales-clerks who must've been born after the Google Maps app, we started on what would become a month-long journey to our new 'home.'
Last week marked a month since we left the city of Mazatlan, our home there, and our time at Roots & Wings International Ministries. Last week we finally moved in to our new HQ, where we will be basing ourselves out of for now. After an exciting month of traveling up the continent, visiting with family and friends, we are settling back into "normal life."
Back into normal life.
Normal life.
I keep saying it over and over to try and figure out what that means.
Now, living in the same province that we did before we left to go to Mazatlan, seeing the same friends, even shopping at some of the same groceries stores, gives an almost eerie sense of things going back to the way they were. I get this feeling like this past year in Mexico was just a dream; a big, long, crazy, life-like dream, and now I've woken up in my 'own' bed again.
And that scares me a little bit.
I'm going to be honest with you. I'm inwardly rebelling at this complacency that's creeping over me. I'm desperately clinging to my incredible experiences in Mexico; forcing my husband to speak Spanish to me, looking at pictures, and re-walking the city streets in my mind to prove to myself it was real.
I miss our daily walks along the ocean. I miss the songs we sang in church. I miss shopping at the market. I miss the friends we made there. I even miss the struggle that was the Spanish language. But mostly I miss R&W and the children there, more than I can properly communicate.
I do no miss the cockroaches.
I have what I've begun to call "Mexican moments," times when my brain forgets where I am and defaults to what I've done for the past year. Throwing my toilet paper in the waste basket instead of flushing it, saying "perdon!" when I run over someone with my shopping cart, pausing to decide if the water is safe to drink, going for our can of jalapenos to put in the chili before Justin reminds me that our guests might not appreciate that, being slightly surprised (but extremely excited) to discover that our new shower has hot water...
Little things, but constant reminders that life has gone back to "normal." Yet, I know it never will.
The fact is, our time in Mazatlan was a unique, very special time for us. However, it can not be relived. I cannot go back to that time and place. Life will not stay the way it was--it never does. I need to learn to treasure that extraordinary time; cherish the moments that, though I will not experience again, have contributed to shaping the woman that I am now and will continue to become.
It is time to once again look ahead.
Thank you to all of you who have shared in this journey with us. I have been so encouraged by those of you who have kept up with my silly blog and used it as a opportunity to encourage us. We are so thankful for each of you, whether or not we've had a chance to properly express it. We have been blessed with friends and family who have given us their undying support, and even continue to as we fumble our way towards "what's next." We thank God for you.
Our continuing prayer is that God would "teach us to follow," as we seek his will for the next part of this fascinating and unpredictable journey we call life.
Pause.
"You mean, like, a map?"
And thus began our first day back in the United States. After trekking throughout the city of El Paso looking for some form of non-electronic navigating tool (rather unsuccessfully), and facing some very confused sales-clerks who must've been born after the Google Maps app, we started on what would become a month-long journey to our new 'home.'
Last week marked a month since we left the city of Mazatlan, our home there, and our time at Roots & Wings International Ministries. Last week we finally moved in to our new HQ, where we will be basing ourselves out of for now. After an exciting month of traveling up the continent, visiting with family and friends, we are settling back into "normal life."
Back into normal life.
Normal life.
I keep saying it over and over to try and figure out what that means.
Now, living in the same province that we did before we left to go to Mazatlan, seeing the same friends, even shopping at some of the same groceries stores, gives an almost eerie sense of things going back to the way they were. I get this feeling like this past year in Mexico was just a dream; a big, long, crazy, life-like dream, and now I've woken up in my 'own' bed again.
And that scares me a little bit.
I'm going to be honest with you. I'm inwardly rebelling at this complacency that's creeping over me. I'm desperately clinging to my incredible experiences in Mexico; forcing my husband to speak Spanish to me, looking at pictures, and re-walking the city streets in my mind to prove to myself it was real.
I miss our daily walks along the ocean. I miss the songs we sang in church. I miss shopping at the market. I miss the friends we made there. I even miss the struggle that was the Spanish language. But mostly I miss R&W and the children there, more than I can properly communicate.
I do no miss the cockroaches.
I have what I've begun to call "Mexican moments," times when my brain forgets where I am and defaults to what I've done for the past year. Throwing my toilet paper in the waste basket instead of flushing it, saying "perdon!" when I run over someone with my shopping cart, pausing to decide if the water is safe to drink, going for our can of jalapenos to put in the chili before Justin reminds me that our guests might not appreciate that, being slightly surprised (but extremely excited) to discover that our new shower has hot water...
Little things, but constant reminders that life has gone back to "normal." Yet, I know it never will.
The fact is, our time in Mazatlan was a unique, very special time for us. However, it can not be relived. I cannot go back to that time and place. Life will not stay the way it was--it never does. I need to learn to treasure that extraordinary time; cherish the moments that, though I will not experience again, have contributed to shaping the woman that I am now and will continue to become.
It is time to once again look ahead.
Thank you to all of you who have shared in this journey with us. I have been so encouraged by those of you who have kept up with my silly blog and used it as a opportunity to encourage us. We are so thankful for each of you, whether or not we've had a chance to properly express it. We have been blessed with friends and family who have given us their undying support, and even continue to as we fumble our way towards "what's next." We thank God for you.
Our continuing prayer is that God would "teach us to follow," as we seek his will for the next part of this fascinating and unpredictable journey we call life.
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| Taking some time to enjoy one of our favourite Canadian inventions. (Yes, our dog is wearing a sweater.) |
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