- . . . glimpses of our pilgrimage
Category Archives: thoughts and questions
My, how we love to complain. Especially, we teens. . .about our rules, and our school pressures, and our decisions about which college, and our tiredness, and our boy dilemmas. Especially, we college students … about our exams and projects, … Continue reading
piles of notes and napkins. ideas, dreams, hopes tucked safely for future review. written in another land, another reality. the brightness stings from here. here, where He placed me surrounded by soul decay and broken hearts. receipts filled with scribbling … Continue reading
When we began, I did not know I was an artist’s wife. The passions were elsewhere expressed. I considered his mother’s framing of his high school works a show of her deep love. I posed for countless shots as he … Continue reading
Countdowns can inspire can pressure can bring up the unfinished can burn off the unimportant Countdowns a reality a temptation to disengage from the present a release valve reminding ‘this too, will pass.’ a priority arranger
New neighbors had jolted me back to reality.
I do not own the stairwell. It’s not an expansion of my apartment.
Squatter’s rights don’t apply in this situation even though my plants live there.
My tiny garden is solace in this concrete space were we make my sons’ childhood memories.
It’s reminded me that we share this world.
It’s reminded me this is not our home.
When I first heard him call her, “Mommy,” my heart felt a stab of pain. But, looking at his joy at her arrival, I couldn’t fault him. Many days in the pregnancy, my little boy has settled for a tired and slow companion in me. She breathes fresh energy into our home with her food, her smile, and her eagerness to play little boy games. I had moments I was counting the minutes until she arrived to relieve me, so how could I blame him for doing the same?
And, then, our dear friend warmly welcomed him to the alley on our afternoon visit from the sterile third floor apartment and I heard it again. “Mommy.” The word carries so many connotations. It is pregnant with meanings of love, of security, of comfort, of emotional home. Mommy is the woman you love more than anything. Mommy is the one you run to when you hurt, or when you discover something new, or when you want a snack.
When I can overlook the sting, I am so thankful that my boy has three mommies. We live as foreigners in a land that values sameness. We live far, far from home and Grammas, and blood relatives. The raw truth is that I am not enough mommy for him in my pregnant state. I am in need. And, we are blessed by community that fills our lives with more care and covers over my gaps. Little boys don’t delicately hide the truth. He calls it like it is….for now.
I know I will still be here when these days are distant memories. I know my blood is in his veins, and that at the end of the day I will be the one singing blessings over him and tucking him in under my roof. So, for now, I will swallow my catty jealousy. I will savor the happy faces of my boy, and the women he has wooed into our lives. They are deeply connected to us because of my weaknesses, because of our need. The Creator knows, and He has planted us here in this distant land for deeper work than teaching my son how to address whom.
Oft quoted, “how beautiful are the feet… ” has new meaning as I round my (cumulative) fourth year here.
My feet exist in daily dirt. In their surroundings, the dirt seeps in until my skin grows around it.
My feet, my heart, are more worn than I forsaw. Daily cleaning, and a bit of exfoliation help. But, beautiful they are not.
my baby’s fingers are longer. . .stronger.
my toddler’s ideas are clearer.. .louder.
this city has less dirt roads.. .less wooden homes.
this city has less trees. . less dengue fever.
this city has less traditions. . has more freedom.
children and cities develop..this is bittersweet.
it’s hot season. tim started saying it weeks ago, and i quickly squelched any such words! The ‘winter’ here has been like cool water in a desert…except it was cool air. I didn’t remember that I could have so much … Continue reading