I Think I'll Let Him

This time last year, I was in Bolivia watching my Cards lose to their arch rival Cats and being consoled by my soon-to-be UK-fan fiancé. Oh what a difference a year makes.  This time I consoled my Wildcat husband in the comforts of our own den in Kentucky by the fireplace as the Cardinals took back the Bluegrass basketball title.  This year, instead of passing the holidays in the blistering heat with friends and the kids from the children's homes in Santa Cruz, we celebrated with family and snow and all the traditions I grew up with.  Both were beautiful ways to honor Christ's birth, but the UL win is always preferable.

We were visited and we were visitors.  We introduced Angie to The Grinch and snow and the 12 Days of Christmas. We exchanged gifts, hugs, baked goods and stories. And we cherished every moment of a week with at least double the family any of us had last year.

After feasting, gaming, vegging, and sledding with the Charleses, Spearses, Scotts, and assorted friends, Jon and I made the snowy drive home from Iowa alone as my parents kept Angie one more day to sled and swim with everyone in Ottumwa. 

I'm not a big goal-setter. I don't like to tell God what I'm going to do with my time or my money, I usually just wait for Him to make suggestions.  But with eight hours alone in the car together, the most peaceful, uninterrupted eight we've had since the honeymoon, Jon and I made some plans. We planned our giving, our saving, and our spending for 2013.  We chose a Bible reading plan for the year.  We worked out our ideas for our new young married couples' small group. We talked about what 2014 and beyond might look like. And we were very content.

We may have made some plans and set some goals, but we know that we can't make any of it happen on our own. We can't have peace and harmony in our home by our own efforts. We can't finalize the adoption alone. I can't be the wife and mother I'd like to be. But we know who to look to for help. Yesterday at church I heard the motto I think I'll use for 2013:

I can't.

He can.

I think I'll let Him.

Who are you going to let lead you in the New Year? 

Growing Pains of Grief

"Our grief is as individual as our lives." - David Kessler

I hope not to trivialize what others feel at the loss of a loved one, by calling Angie's felt loss of her home-country "grief," but in many ways it seems very similar. I recognized it as such when she raced through the classic stages in less than an hour after touching down in the Atlanta airport a week ago, and I realized her emotional roller-coaster over the past few months may have been just a larger scale version. 

The day we moved from Bolivia, for the second time in six months, she was calm, more than one could say for her mom as we rushed around airports and missed a flight, but contemplative; as she'd been for the week since Jon left us to return to work in Kentucky. Was this denial of the impending move, or acceptance? Her still-unresolved jealousy of Jon surfaced a bit as I called him while taxiing on runways in both Miami and Atlanta, but it wasn't until we got off the plane that she started to get sassy with me, and when Jon jumped out and wrapped her in his surprise hug she was having none of it. The snide remarks intermixed with the silent treatment went on until she broke down in tears in the car. 

Her bedtime had come and gone by this point and I was sure the night was only going to spiral more out of control, but Jon had enough optimism to try to order a pizza. He guessed it, as quickly as her mood shifted from peaceful to turbulent, she pulled herself together. By the time we arrived at Grandma's house she was upbeat and almost playful, possibly the quickest and most complete recovery we've ever seen.  

And since that moment she's been...pleasant, a word that seems so simple to most of you parents, but one we haven't been able to use for a long long time. She has not given up bargaining completely, "Mommy, if it's not gonna snow, we can go back to Bolivia, right?" And the necessary shopping sprees to outfit her for winter and her new school haven't hurt in keeping her spirits high in the midst of this huge change. Not to mention the lifesaving aid of our parents spoiling her rotten at every turn. But now I'm sharing Jon's optimism and hoping she's accepting our new surroundings, letting go of her "home" in Bolivia and embracing the one we're creating here.

Tomorrow is Angie's first day at her new school. She's not thrilled about the idea, but she's handling it maturely, and I'm proud of her...and I think I'll tell her that in the morning when she wakes up. We're both growing here, and some days I'm not sure who's more affected by the growing pains.  Good thing we have Ruby, Jon, and Jesus to keep us centered.

The Second Last Everything (But Not Penultimate)

This week we're packing up, moving out, visiting with everyone, and saying goodbye for the last time, again. I taught my final English classes, we were prayed for by our church, I finished up my training surgeries, tonight we meet with our young couples' home group one last time, and Friday we conclude our university Alpha Course series. Six months ago, we wrapped up everything here in Bolivia, and as God would have it, here we are doing it all for the second last time.

So many people and places are dear to us, it's impossible to say which will be most difficult to let go of. We will continue to treasure the Baby Home where Jon's been volunteering his handiness and we've been sponsoring a new little one also named Johnny Charles (above in Angie's arms). We'll keep praying for each of those precious little ones. If you're also interested in sponsoring one of their seven sweethearts, please let me know.

My vet school students and colleagues will be dearly missed. My role with them has changed this semester, as I've added "wife" to the list of hats I wear, but our friendship hasn't suffered. I love these girls and am so excited to see them moving toward Jesus as He runs toward them.

Angie's struggling with all the change. You've probably noticed the lack of posts about her and pictures of her gorgeous smile here and on Facebook. Please pray with us that she'll enjoy the cooler weather of winter in the States, have fun with her dog, grandparents and cousins, and make friends soon in her new school.  She so needs love and stability, and God's only allowed us to give her one of those two key ingredients this past year.

 Jon left Bolivia last Saturday, to get back to work and get everything ready for our return, except the tree, he's not allowed to decorate for Christmas without us!  Pray for his transition back into work, and re-entry culture shock as he decompresses from his three-month stent with us in South America.

People often ask if we're excited to be heading back. I don't really know. I am so looking forward to cold, snow, family, U.S. friends, Ruby, and my new job as CVM's Southeastern regional rep. But to say we're "excited" seems to imply some discontent here, and even with the constant sweating, I'd say we're pretty well content right where we are. Not a bad place to be really, happy where you are, and happy with where you're going. God's been so good to us.