learned to look right first when crossing the road.
discovered that I get very motion sick when being transported on the left side of the road rather than the right.
grown, birthed, and loved two beautiful boys.
adjusted to ‘Mexican’ equaling barbeque flavored.
worked in an office, worked in our home.
learned to cook from scratch, including ridiculous substitutes for American recipes.
come to understand what it means to be displaced.
watched the beauty of the immediate bond that can develop when you’re both far from home.
lived in a flat which I loved, and a house which I love more.
grown so accustomed to a tiny grocery store that I am unable to shop without help when visiting the States.
learned to love public transportation.
learned to hate public transportation.
traveled to 12 countries.
baked and loved baking so, so much. I’m thinking about changing my middle name to Sugar.
benefited and suffered from free health care.
enjoyed using my feet to get myself from here to there rather than a vehicle.
become claustrophobic when I’m not in walking distance of water.
been a supporter and been supported.
grown closer to my husband than I realized.
come to love a wide assortment of foods I never gave the time of day before.
walked hundreds of miles through a slow-paced life that lets me live one day at a time.
served, learned, and grown in a little church that was just what we needed.
watched both my babies baptized in a community of believers that love them.
forgotten what it feels like to be completely comfortable in the States.
stopped worrying about if my furniture matches and started being just plain thankful.
learned that it is going to be so much harder than I ever imagined to say goodbye.
When we moved here over four years ago, all I wanted to do was go back. It didn’t feel right. It was hard and uncomfortable. I felt out of place and overwhelmed. Everything felt so different from home. And somehow now, that feels like a different person. This is home. This is where I belong.
We are moving. It has been such a hard process deciding what will be best for our family, but we have decided. As of mid-December, our feet will trek across the customs line and we will be residents of the US once again. I am excited. I’m nervous. I’m a little scared. I’ve done a lot of growing up in this country rather than that one, and I am afraid of the learning and growing I’m going to have to do all over again. I’m afraid of losing what I’ve gained and the treading of water that will have to take place until I can figure out my strongest stroke in a new place.
Our decision became official this morning with the purchase of plane tickets. I talked to Aed a bit about flying on a plane, going to a new house with a new room to stay in for a while. His response was, ‘Go on plane, wanna stay dis house.’
Me too, Buddy.
But it will be good. It will be hard and good and a new adventure. Change doesn’t give in. It forces its way in to every nook and cranny we try to hide and protect. There’s no use in running away. So, here we go. The next step.
Praise the Lord.