The Queen B

Things Are Not Always What They Seem

We arrived at the coffee farm as the darkness was just taking over the day.

I was kind of thinking we would surely just head back down to the city.

We didn't.

Mama Carmen popped out of the suburban and took off down the mountain trail.

Let's backtrack just a minute, shall we?

Remember how I killed my ankle on the first day?  Well.  It was really hurting.  I didn't want to be a total whiner, so I was trying not to talk about it constantly...but it was really hurting.  

And upon leaving for this particular day's adventures, I didn't really have a clear understanding of the fact that I would be walking down a steep mountain trail that would cover 17 acres.

In the dark.

So I just began asking God to help me get through this ridiculous hike without hurting my ankle more seriously.  

If 63 year old Mama Carmen could hike 17 acres in the dark, surely I could, too. 

I had never been to a coffee farm before, but it was really interesting.  We were looking at the beans by the light of my iphone.  

Coffee grows best on the side of a mountain. It was very steep.  There was a beautiful stream at the base of the mountain.  

Well.  I'm sure in the daylight it would have been beautiful.

This is a banana tree.  Or banana plant?  Whichever.  It was really tall.  And the flower on it was amazing.  I didn't know that their flowers were so lovely.

And can we all just take a moment to reflect on the darkness?

We were seriously lighting the path with the flashlight app on my phone.  Here's the tiny bridge we came to and crossed by app light...

Yeah.  Ravine below.

Eventually, we made our way back up the mountain to our vehicle.  Then we walked to the house that is on her property.

It was incredible.

It has not had anyone living in it for sometime, but it could be like the coolest house ever.

The middle of it is an open air courtyard.  Most of the living areas are both inside and outside.  It was phenomenal.

While we were looking, we heard gunfire.

We were trying to not be offensive and scaredy cat gringos, so we began whispering to our kids to hightail it to the car.

As we were stuffing them in the car, I looked at the building across the street--a church of some kind, no less--and told The King I was certain I'd just seen a sniper.

Soon the others joined us in the suburban and we began driving back through the village.

We turned a corner and saw several of the village children in the road playing with firecrackers.

Not exactly the storm of gunfire we'd pictured.

And I felt so silly.

And small. 

And prejudiced and ignorant.

And sad.

We were going to take Mama Carmen and her kids out for dinner, but our translator shared that Mama Carmen still had to go to the grocery store for the next day's food and needed to get back to her home.

We visited with her a bit more as we drove back to the city and soon had arrived at her home.  As she got out of the car, she told us she'd be praying for us.

And I'm pretty sure she meant it.

And it broke my heart.  Because as a friend shared with me upon my return, we may pray for her for what she doesn't have, but she is likely praying for us for what we don't have (or maybe for what we do have?)

Something that our missionary friend shared with us that day has stuck with me.  We were talking with him about his safety and the crime in Guatemala.  He was taking us places (and has & will be taking his family places) that are not safe by our standards.  

His response was basically, "I don't know how I'd ever reach people if I were behind walls. Or keeping my distance.  Or staying away from where they live.  I figure that if I'm helping them and improving their lives then they will protect me.  And if they don't, then that's ok, too."

Isn't that astounding?

I can't stop thinking about it.  

I have used my safety as an excuse to hide.

I think another thing that I learned from the experience with Mama Carmen is this...

She could live in a really, really nice house.  And take her kids with her.  And run the coffee farm to its maximum potential.  And employ people in that village. 

And all that would be good.  Really good.

It would, in many ways, be a "better" life for her and the kids.  

But her calling is in that city.  By the dump.

She doesn't get mired down by the fact that the really nice coffee farm is not being used to it's maximum potential.

She has just waited and trusted.  And now this precious missionary and his family have shown up.  And they are getting the coffee farm running more efficiently.  

That is their calling.

It is such an example of each of us being the hands and feet of Christ and of the church. 

One thing I kept thinking is that we would have had a hard time leaving something on the table.  Meaning, if we had a coffee farm that had been given to us and it wasn't being all that it could be--we'd be nuts.  I'm still processing these thoughts.

I do know that we all have a role to play in some story.  Each of us has a calling.  Our part may be small or it may be the starring role.  It may be a piece that can be filled by anybody willing or it may be so specific that it can only be filled by you.  

What if Mama Carmen hadn't followed through on her promise to take care of these children?  Or what if this missionary chose to use his knowledge of the coffee industry to work for a world famous coffee chain?  Or if this doctor wouldn't have given his time to examine Erma? The list goes on.

God doesn't call us all to move to a third world country.

He doesn't give each of us knowledge about specific fields that can be used to change lives.

He doesn't give each of us the financial means to support ministries both here and abroad.

But He does call some of us to do those things.  

Others He calls to take meals to a sick friend.  Or to babysit for a mom who is in a bind.  Or to take a coat that you no longer need to someone who needs it desperately.  Or invite a family over for a night of fun and laughter because they haven't had much laughter for awhile.

I guess what I'm saying is, we need to seek out ways we can serve someone else.  

And then there's this...Mama Carmen doesn't consider the fact that she is caring for 88 children to be enough.  She is serving her community by providing VBS to the city kids.  She is feeding the hungry at the dump.  She is giving of herself by entertaining selfish Americans for an afternoon. 

This is totally NOT the direction I intended on taking this post.  Not sure where I digressed.  I hope it didn't come off preachy.  I'm thinking it probably came off preachy.

I am just sharing what is on my heart.  

I'm not sure what it all means.  

More on that in the next post.

 

The Joy Of The Lord

So Mama Carmen greeted us warmly and asked if we were ready to go. 

We piled in the suburban...the missionary we were spending our day with, the translator, our friends Jason & Lacey, their oldest son, The King, Princess & I and Mama Carmen.  

Some of her older kids asked if they could go with us.  We were all mentally tallying how many were already cramming in the suburban and thinking there would be no way they could fit.  

I think someone said something about no room.

Mama Carmen quickly went around to the back of the suburban, opened the back doors and said something in Spanish that most likely translated to "you crazy gringos, there is a quarter of this vehicle that is empty".  

So 3 teenagers piled in the cargo area of the suburban.

While we all sunk down in our seats.

And we were off to Mama Carmen's coffee farm.

Sidebar:  Several years ago, a Guatemalan doctor gifted Mama Carmen his coffee farm in the mountains.  The hope was that it would fund her ministry.  The problem is, Mama Carmen lives in the city.  That is where her kids are.  She isn't leaving. Right now, the coffee farm makes enough money for an emergency fund.  Barely. She uses it for medical issues that might come up and things like that.  Trust me, it isn't making much.  

The missionary with whom we were spending the day is temporarily in Guatemala to help improve her coffee production. He is very experienced in the coffee industry and uses that knowledge for God's kingdom.  Cool, huh?

(Is this making any sense?)

(I don't feel as if this is making any sense.)

(But I'm gonna keep going.)

We embarked on the very curvy journey to the mountain village.  I completely lost track of how long the drive was. I was bouncing all over the back seat and praying for my life to be spared because we were on a one lane road (half lane road?) with scary buses and no traffic laws.  

It was dusk at this point.  Which totally made the half lane road scarier.

And the sweet orphans in the back of the suburban started spraying some perfume. 

Which almost caused me to spew.  

Because, really?  Curvy, bouncy, death roads and strong smells of gardenia DO NOT MIX.

BUT.

Those kids in the back of the suburban laughed the entire trip. 

They talked and talked and talked to each other.  They laughed.  A lot.  

(And sprayed gardenia.  A lot.)

We were asking Mama Carmen questions through the translator as we drove up the mountain.

I asked her if the kids who stay with her while their parents worked paid anything to be there.

She said no.  She said that if the parents paid for their children to be with her then they might not be able to eat.

I felt small.

Then we asked her about feeding all of the 88 kids under her roof.  

She said that she didn't know where her food would come from next week, but she knew that it would come.

Wow.

I mean....WOW.

And get this.  On Mondays and Fridays?  She feeds the people at the dump.  

Imagine that faith.  If I was unsure of my family's food situation, would I take my excess to feed an entire community of people?

Loaves and fishes, y'all.  Loaves and fishes.  

So then Lacey asked her if she'd share her most pressing need.  

She hesitated to share at first.  But then said that she'd like to build another story on to her home so that she could house more kids.  

We asked what that would cost and it was about $25,000.  

I absolutely love that she knows she serves a big God who can accomplish big things. 

We asked her about the kids.  She said that each one is hers.  She is their mother. 

We were climbing the mountain.

I was trying to take a picture but was struggling. 

One of the kids in the back looked at me and pointed to herself and then out the window.

I handed her my phone and she took a few pictures.

 

We passed through several villages.

We were passing what I'm assuming were small houses and came upon a lady standing by the road.

She held a tray of chocolate donuts.  

Her tray was full.  

You'll recall it's dusk.  

And her tray was full.

This is not a busy road.

We pulled over.  And bought 10 donuts.

(That is the back of Mama Carmen's head.)

(Why would I have thought to take a picture of the front of Mama Carmen's head?)

Do you know that the 10 donuts that we bought could pay for her family's groceries for a week?

Would I have stayed out there with my full tray until dusk?  

I'm afraid I know the answer and it shames me.

Lacey and I were immediately sending out the word to our families to NOT EAT THE DONUTS.

We handed them to the precious kids in the back.

Well.  We did.  

Their stomachs are used to it.

Ours?  Not so much.

Of course, one of us ate a donut.

Wanna take a guess?

Yeah.  It was the one who possibly had a brain parasite from eating in a third world country.

(I love you, King.  So thankful you have a life to risk.)

(But, really?)

Anyway.  

The translator overheard the conversation between Mama Carmen and her kids and told us quietly that none of them had eaten since 6 that morning.  

Y'all.

They had not eaten all day.

And were laughing.  And smiling.  And NOT complaining.

Our kids were sulking because they were late for dinner.

Lacey and I immediately started quietly threatening our kids...."you will start laughing like the hungry orphan children!"

It really was interesting to observe.

The absolute JOY that flowed from Mama Carmen and her kids was palpable.  

They are happier than we are.  

And we are happy people.

But they are filled with the JOY OF THE LORD.

And it is different than ours.

I've never seen anything quite like it.

This is long.  I'll write more later.

Thanks for reading.

Beautiful

While still wrapping our minds around what we'd just witnessed at the dump, we made our way to a children's home in the city.  

Mama Carmen is a 63 year old Guatemalan lady who has opened her heart and her home.  Years ago, her son was kidnapped.  She prayed and promised God that if he would safely return her son, she would never turn away a homeless child.  He was returned safely to her, and she is fulfilling her promise.  

At the time of our visit, there were 66 children living with her.  Additionally, 22 children stay with her during the day while their parents are working.

We pulled up to the curb on a city street.  Her home is part of the city block. Nothing identifies it as different from the other doors lining the street.  

We entered through the door and were greeted by sweet little faces.

Seriously.  Those eyes.

Within minutes, we had children hanging from our arms and legs.  Each wanting our attention.  How do you choose which one to hold?

            

It is my understanding that the home is run by Mama Carmen and her adult children.

We were supposed to meet Mama Carmen to go with her to see her coffee farm that afternoon.  I'll share more about that in a bit.

Mama Carmen was running a couple of hours behind.  We knew from her calls with our translator that she had been having some car trouble. We hung out and played with the kids while we waited on her.  

This is Erma.  Erma hasn't been at Mama Carmen's very long.  She was brought to Mama Carmen by another orphanage who couldn't care for her.  Erma has (what was thought to be) epilepsy.  At the time of our visit, they were having trouble regulating her medication.  She was so medicated while we were visiting that she could barely put words together.  

Her eyes were truly a window to her soul.  

It seemed they were pleading to let her out of her medicated prison.

The medication also made her vomit each time she took it.  The evidence was all down the front of her shirt.

She clung to me for a while.  I tried to communicate with her.  She would grow very frustrated.  She kept repeating the same phrase to me over and over and over with those piercing eyes.

Finally, I called the translator over and asked her to help me understand.  

Erma was saying, "Why are you such a flirt to be wearing that jewelry in your nose?"

I cracked up laughing.  

So did Erma.

It was lovely to see her smile.

Erma's medication was $200 each month.  We have since found a way to get it for her for $50. Now we are working on how to get it to her.

One of the doctors whom God placed in our path for La P agreed to see Erma a few weeks ago.  He determined that she does not have epilepsy, but has brain damage from something he believed occurred during birth.  The medication will still be able to control her seizing.

After a time, Mama Carmen arrived.  Honestly, my expectation was that she would bail on our plans.  And I thought she would greet us with some degree of aggravation.  Kind of like we were another group of Americans who take pictures and then disappear. 

Which, sadly, isn't far from the truth.

However, Mama Carmen got out of her van, came to me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

I was so shocked that I could barely hug back.  Seriously.  She did not have an ounce of frustration anywhere on her face.

And get this...Mama Carmen and several of the older kids had been out since 6 a.m. (it was about 4:30 at this time) doing VBS in a worse part of the city!

I was absolutely blown away.

If anyone ever deserved to be served, it is her.  Yet she was out serving others.  

And with a beautiful attitude.  A kind and generous spirit.  A lovely demeanor.

After being broken down on the side of the road...and running hours behind.

Y'all.  I would have been fit to be tied. I would have been irritable and ugly and hateful.  I would have bailed on the plans.  My day, and the day of those around me, would have been shot.

I can honestly say that the graciousness that she displayed that day has made me reevaluate much about my life.  My priorities and my attitude.  

My heart, really.

I can't wait to share the rest of our day with you.  Next post, ok?

***

Please be in prayer for Joanne from The Simple Wife.  As you may know, she had a stroke Tuesday morning while on her treadmill.  Let's go before the Lord and ask for complete healing and restoration for her and her family. In 2007, I read Joanne's book, Living Simply.  It was the catalyst for many changes in my life.  God used her words to begin whispering to my heart. Keep her close to yours today. 

 

 

Thankful

As you may recall, we spent Thanksgiving week in Guatemala.  

I sort of began recounting the trip a few weeks ago.  

I got to the part about the monkey and my ankle. 

Ugh.  Let's move on.

So Day 2 of the Guatemala trip was kind of a drag.  Usually, we have had a project to be working on while visiting with La P.  This time, however, there wasn't much going on at the orphanage.  

There was a mother and daughter from Louisiana staying in our house and they were a hoot.  We had a lot of fun playing cards in the evenings with those two!

But as far as productive work...not so much.

On Day 3, we had plans to venture into the city.  

In the past, we've been cautioned to stay out of the city.  Guatemala City is very dangerous.  The most recent statistic that I read is that there are an average of 11 murders a day within that city.  It is home to over 13 million people who have an average annual income of less than $5000.  

This past year we have felt God moving us to step out of our comfy box a little bit more.

(Thank you very much, Radical.)

Samuel, a missionary from our hometown, had moved to Guatemala a week or so before we arrived, and he picked us up that morning. 

As Samuel told one of the missionaries at the orphanage the places that he was planning on taking us, the response was, "I'd never take anyone there.  If you need help, don't call me."

Surely he was kidding.

We went to a local restaurant with Samuel and a translator.  We learned a bit about Samuel's ministry and how he had ended up on this short term adventure in Guatemala.

Our plan for the day was to visit a children's home in the city.  As we began talking about the many heartbreaking situations in Guatemala, our conversation quickly took us to the city dump.

Samuel asked if we'd like to go there.

The dump in Guatemala City is home to thousands.  Generations of families have lived and worked in the dump.

I'm not sure that I can use words to accurately describe what we experienced.

Any words that I could use feel so empty and hollow and cheap.

So bear with me.  

To see to the dump, we had to walk through the General Cemetery of the city.  

Most of the vault type things where the people are laid to rest are rented.  If the family of the deceased doesn't pay the rent, then the body is taken out and chunked over a cliff to the dump so that the vault thing can be used again.

Do you see the vultures?

I cannot even begin to explain the vultures.  

We walked to the back of the cemetery toward the cliff.

Every sense was assaulted.  

 

There were so many people.  There were men hanging on the back of the trash truck in a line so that they could get the first chance at grabbing what dumped out.

When the back would lift and dump, their bodies would slam toward the ground. They would sometimes not let go, and so their bodies would flail in the air when the bed slammed back onto the truck.

We were told that many are maimed and killed by this act of desperation.

We witnessed one man grabbing a tarp and running as fast as he could while gathering it in his arms.  He had scored shelter.

In the last picture, you can see a blue rectangle and a yellow rectangle in the center toward the bottom of the photo.  Those are two houses.

As we stood quietly, taking it all in, Samuel said gently, "It's overwhelming, isn't it?"

So very.  

Samuel said that he struggled with how to pray after seeing it for the first time. Soon, however, he began to focus his prayers on the dump truck and bulldozer drivers.  He prays that they will be alert and attentive and that they will come to know Jesus.  

I thought that sounded more manageable, but couldn't process it at that moment.

Off to the side, I could see an area cleared from trash and lots of movement.

I nodded toward The King and showed him the area.  

We struggled as our minds registered what our eyes were witnessing.

It was a soccer field.

Some young men had cleared an area of trash and created a soccer field.

It was now much more than just "generations of people who live in the dump".

Those are words.

These were young men.  Young men who have a life in front of them.  

Young men who deliberately moved tons of trash and filth to create an oasis of joy.

Do they have hope of getting out of there?  Do they even want to get out of there?

Do they know they can get out of there?

The pictures seem so flat.  My words seem so insignificant.  

The magnitude of despair in that place seems so enormous.

Soon we made our way back to the car.  

I'll share about our next stop in the next post. 

Good Intentions

Happy 2011!!

I cannot believe that 2010 has come to an end.  The year FLEW by for The Palace.  It was definitely the most defining year of my life, and now I'm excited to take what I've learned into this new year.

The general direction of this year feels like it will be LIVING INTENTIONALLY.

Not just letting our days pass while each blurs into the next, but being aware of each moment.  

Choosing how our time is spent.

Stepping back from the things that don't work for our family.  

Stepping toward things that do.

***

This week, I hope to write about our recent trip to Guatemala.  There's so much to share... I want to do it justice.  

***

Tell me something.  What was the most important thing that happened to you in 2010?  

 

All I Brought Back From My Vacation Was...

A nasty virus.

An ankle in a brace.

And a good dose of blessed inspiration.

I can't wait to share our trip with you.  Thanks for your prayers.

Sweet

Guess who graduated from Kindergarten last week?

Isn't she growing up so fast??

We will be traveling to Guatemala later this month.  Would you please join us in prayer for our trip? Though we are praying for hearts to be softened, we truly just want to be in the Father's will.  

I do have a few tiny anxieties:  The King's first big trip since his surgery; flying.

That's pretty much the list.

I am really just excited to spend time with her and with the other kids.  

We have changed a lot since our last visit, and I'm excited to see the orphanage with clearer eyes.  

While I'm talking about the serious, I'd like to share something else with you.  I don't know how to explain it, but The King and I both feel that God is preparing us for a new chapter.  It may not be anything dramatically different.  But it might.  It may not alter our daily lives.  But it could.  

The last year and a half has taught me to rest in God's timing.  Not to rush it.  Not to force it.  

But it is still hard to wait.

Have you ever felt just on the edge of knowing something important, while really having no idea what it is you are about to know?

(Not rhetorical.  Spill it.)

The King Has Returned. Sort Of.

So The King's been working in Boston.

Since mid-October.

He has finally come home.

I would not even consider complaining...I'm so thankful that he has work.  I know there are many in need of a job right now.

However.

We are kind of in that re-entry phase.

We are getting adjusted to living together again.

And I'm reacquainting myself with the massive amount of laundry he creates.

During his time away, The Princess and I did ok.  We were not afraid.

Except for once.

We had a little visitor on our front porch.

Nothing major.

Just, you know, a bear.

A BLACK BEAR.

Thankfully, we only heard it and saw its bear prints.  

And the carnage of my little Japanese maple.

I looked up info on what to do if we meet Mr. Bear face to face.

The info said not to block his exit.

REALLY.  Well that's incredibly helpful. I'll try to go against my natural instinct and not stand in the way of his departure route.

(You caught the part where I said it was on my front porch, right?)

But back to The King.

He is now in Guatemala.

I really, really can't wait to share La P news with you.

I need to wait until a few details are worked out, though.

God has recently opened doors that have blown me away.

He has shown His power.  He has (again) demonstrated that He is in control of all things.

Our adoption is in no way imminent.  But I do believe that she will be here soon.

I have no reason to expect it.  

I just believe it.

La P and The King skyped The Princess and me tonight.

(Is skype a verb?)

The Princess showed her two of the kittens and she said (in Spanish), "My cats at my house!"

And then she started petting the screen.

We sent her a coat and a My Little Pony and some Christmas hair bows.  My mother-in-law sent her a few pairs of pjs and a pink crocheted hat.

During our conversation, La P tried it all on and modeled for us.

When we were telling her bye, she kissed the screen and said (in Spanish), "I love you, Mommy".  

I hadn't heard her little voice since July.

If you think about it, please pray for us this week.  The King is working so hard to bring her home.  He will be meeting with officials in a foreign land.  He will be sharing with them what has been on our hearts since we met her...

She is a 6 year old girl with a tumor on her face that is growing.  The tumor and scar tissue and bone fragments rest dangerously close to her optic nerve.  

Her eye does not sit in the right spot.  Her nose is misshapen.  She has chronic sinus issues.

The King sent me a picture and she appears to be wearing her bangs so that they cover that side of her face.

She has been abandoned since birth.

She needs a family.

And a family needs her.

Finally...An Update

Thanks to all of you who have emailed to ask about La P's adoption.

I wanted to post about it as soon as we returned last week, but I had to process for a few days.

And that is my only excuse for yesterday's post.

Basically, Guatemala is closed to all new adoptions.  That said, there are some going through.  

Which means they are really not closed.

You may recall that La P was born with a tumor in her face/sinus cavity/optical (orbital?) globe area.  It is alarmingly close to her optical nerve.  She has had 2 prior surgeries to remove the tumor.

Only it is still there.

We were able to obtain her medical records a few months ago.  Our interpretation (and that of a few doctors/nurses who have reviewed them) is that more surgeries are necessary.  There is a lot of debris floating around her optical nerve.  She has a lot of inflammation that is prone to infection.  

Not to mention she is a little girl with a significant growth on her face.

An adoption would be more likely if we could bring her here on a medical visa for treatment.  The only way that can happen is if a Guatemalan doctor will say that she needs treatment in the U.S.  

But the doctors there are saying that she is fine and it is only cosmetic.

Her records (and symptoms and examination by a doctor and nurse who traveled with us) totally indicate otherwise.

So.  We need to find a Guatemalan doctor who is willing to examine her and/or her records and will acknowledge that she needs treatment in the U.S.  

From that point, we have good information that things could begin happening pretty quickly.

If that doesn't happen, it will be years.  

If ever.

Our prayer is that God will lead us to a compassionate Guatemalan physician. 

On our way to visit La P, I really prayed that I would know for certain if she was ours or if we were just supposed to be her "sponsor" forever.

I kind of thought she might not remember me and then I'd know that it wasn't meant to be.

My heart was overflowing all week.  She knew us.  It was as if no time had passed.

She fits right in our family.  Her personality is so similar to that of The Princess.

She is funny and sweet.  She was so incredibly patient with us as we butchered the Spanish language.

(One time, after I'd said a word completely wrong, she rolled her eyes and said, "A, E, I, O, U" and gave us the proper pronunciation.)

She was sick on 2 different occasions while we were there.  She allowed me to care for her.  I held her and comforted her.  

I'm blown away by the depth of my love for her.

I was bending down to tie my shoe one afternoon and she walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek and said, "I love you, Mama".  

In English.

I melted.

One of the sweetest exchanges took place between her and my mother-in-law.  

For Christmas, we gave Nana a necklace with each of the grandkids' initial of their first name.  After we met La P, we got her another letter.  La P began checking out her necklace as soon as she saw Nana.  Nana showed her The Princess' letter and pointed to The Princess.  She showed her my nephew, Christopher's letter (he was with us on the trip) and pointed to him and then showed her the La P letter.  

(JJ's letter is on there, too.  He just wasn't on the trip.)

(If anyone that knows us was wondering.)

Something about that visual made it all click for La P.  I wish you could have seen her face when she realized what Nana meant.

I will never forget it.

Here are the 3 cousins...

La P loves her sister.

...and her sister loves her.

These photos were taken as we prepared to tell her goodbye.

Our time with her was fantastic.  Thank you for praying.

I know that there are many of you wearing your bracelets and praying for us.  

(Which reminds me, if you haven't gotten yours, let me know.  I think I deleted a few of the last emails of people who requested one.  Oh.  And if you live outside the U.S., I found your UNMAILED envelopes in my glove box the other day.  They are on their way.  Forgive?)

If you will, join us in praying specifically for a Guatemalan doctor.  There are so many details that will have to occur in the perfect order for us to bring her home.

When it happens, we will know without a doubt that it was orchestrated by God.

Adios.

We Are Home

I am still trying to decide if that is a good thing or a bad thing.
 

Good Things:

-It is great to be in my own bed.

The chicken wire with a 1/4 inch cushion was not conducive to my comfort.

I would love to show you the myriad of bruises that have formed on my hips from that "bed".  However, my stretch marks (not to mention the fact that it would be completely inappropriate) will keep those bruises hidden.

-There was great progress made on our house.  I'll have to share some pictures when I remember to take my camera.

-I really needed a Diet Mt. Dew.

-Flushing toilet paper.

-Having a reason to flush toilet paper. 
 

Bad Things:

-Leaving her.

That, my friends, was not easy.