simply today. 


Back so soon. 

Today has been rough. Why exactly, I’m not sure. I mean, it’s all been rough but today particularly. Probably a combination of wanting to snuggle into my moms arms and fall asleep, bring extremely exhausted, stuck in a lot of hard spaces, some frustration, a long week, and a really crappy taxi ride last night. 
I woke up and knew I was tired; I slept well, I’m finally getting good at that, however I didn’t get enough sleep. That seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life at this time. I’ll just assume that’s preparation for my aspiration to be a mom one day. After about thirty minutes of being awake, I knew for sure that I was having a hard morning. And my hard morning has been slowly turning into a long, hard, day. 
Last night I was “bamboozled” by a taxi driver. He took me the very wrong way, and when I told him he was wrong, he got mad at me. I’m not going to lie, I was scared shitless at the fact that it seemed like the start of a horror story in a makeshift book titled Why Maggie Shouldn’t Go to Colombia. But, I ended safely with my housemates; I ended very shaken up. Maybe that’s why my eyes have filled up with fat, drippy tears too many times to count. Maybe because the approximately 99 days until I see my people again feels like forever. Maybe because I haven’t seen baby E in person, or I miss my favorite icecream (Jeni’s Splendid Icecreams- check it out). Perhaps it’s because I don’t feel safe here yet/have a safe space here yet. In the states I would go to a coffee shop or just drive myself around for an hour, here, I can’t drive and there’s always a big level of caution surrounding my life. 

I feel like I’m back in a place of teary eyes and it’s oh so frustrating. I have been this strong, brave, adventurous, wild girl, and right now I feel like I don’t have the freedom to be her. 
I started my morning off with a bowl of oatmeal and fruit (kiwi today) as I do every morning and then went off the sala cuna. And I wanted to be there, but I also didn’t. It was nice that one of the tinies was screaming his head off so I plopped his chubby self into a stroller and just pushed him to and from until he knocked out. Even then, I was so disinterested in being there. I don’t know if I wanted to be in bed at the apartment or in my bed in the states, but I didn’t want to be there. So I sat with the sleeping tiny listening to worship for a good long while and then I wrote in my journal. And then I ate lunch. And then I fed lunch to a cranky four year old while tears welled up in my eyes for no good reason other than today is hard. Geez. 
I remember talking with my buddy Cal (he was from the team 3-4 weeks ago) about how cool it is that God’s story for our lives is so continuous and perfect. For example, the last four years of my life were the hardest years I had faced (up to those four years) but now I can look back and see the beauty of the majority of that hard. Well, I still think that’s beautiful, but I wish I knew now why all this struggling and these tough days will one day appear glorious. Also, I’m hoping each year does not get a little harder. Fingers crossed. 
A high note of today? I should still be at work, but I’m here. The babies leave at 12 and I worked until about 1:30 and it was odd but they told me to go back to my apartment, so I did, relieved that I could finally cry and sleep and exist for a tiny bit outside of humanity. Crying is great and I love it, it really relieves so much of the tension inside me, but I’m not a super fan of crying in front of people. 
There’s a lot of crazy and a lot of hard. I don’t want to think about how hard it would be without your love and prayers and support. So thanks for following me along for this rollercoaster of crazy.   

For praying people, here’s some stuff that I can think of off the top of my head: 

  • Language 
  • Finding a space 
  • Staying connected with God
  • Bravery 
  • Discernment 
  • My exhaustion 
  • My sweet tinies 
  • Viento Fresco, the foundation 
  • My roots & connections here to grow 

TTYL party people.
The End, pt. two. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s