This last week was tough for me. Matt and I stepped up to a different class for Language and Phonetics. He’s ready to be a rock star with the others, I’m trying to earn my keep on the sound crew. Everyone is super encouraging and helpful. But on Thursday, after a compassionate look from a classmate, the tide came in. I spent twenty minutes of the class with tears flowing that I couldn’t check. I don’t think it’s just the Spanish. I really enjoy learning and this season of being on the other side of the teacher’s manual. I like the verbal drills and handing in a test that I worked hard on. It’s fun to load up our backpacks and walk to school together. One of my favorite parts of the day is hugging each of our E’s before we deliver them to their classrooms. (Eliana has been asking for her snuggle by the front gate. Sixth graders have appearances to keep up.) I even get to have snack time with Matt in the break between classes.
I think that in the midst of my persistent “I Can Do This” pace, I haven’t taken enough of a breather to process the myriad of changes in our life. Dear friends are clearing the last of our belongings from our house in the prairie this weekend. Eleven days from now it will open its doors to a new family. No more of our game nights or birthday candles blown out in that kitchen. No more Sunday naps in that bedroom after anointed worship and teaching at our home church in our mother tongue. No more morning devotions curled up on that furniture. No more watching the birds splash or the pines dance in the wind through those windows. And in spite of the glories of technology, we are a great physical distance from many hearts that mean so much to us.
I can do this. I can make our bread, cook meals from scratch, and time our laundry by the look of the skies. I can walk everywhere we need to go, and get back before dusk falls around 5:30 p.m. I can rally the kids for the evening dish washing & floor sweeping, help with their homework, and tackle my own. I can learn new words for everything and the new relationships for how to put them together. I can learn how to be a parent of school-going children, how to advocate for them with teachers and other students, how to help their understanding as a mom instead of as a teacher. It sounds hilarious from this vantage point, but Matt and I actually expected this season of language school to be less busy than our lives in Nebraska. Without homeschooling , a PT career, and ministry commitments, with no yard work, and a third of the house-space to keep clean, we thought life would be more restful in this season. In reality, we are doing less, but it takes a great deal more of our time to do it.
I want to do this. I want to learn to love the jumble of houses piled together and broken pavement interspersed with tropical beauty. I want to bring an open heart to this new culture and soak in a new way of doing life. I want to make friends and do life in Spanish without English subtitles. I want to walk in the presence of our Great God as He works in me and through me here in Costa Rica. I want to delight not only in the photo opportunities at places of natural splendor, but also in the miles of daily living in between.
So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up. Galatians 6:9
Speaking of natural splendor, a few weeks ago we were able to spend a day at La Paz Waterfall Gardens. We’ve updated the slide show on our Home page to give you a taste of that incredible time. Click <here> to check it out.