Our First Year Back.

A year ago yesterday, we got on a plane and left Costa Rica. It was one of the saddest moments of our lives, second only to the loss of my sister and her husband. 365 days have passed and we too often have let the circumstances take more away from who we are and who we were as a family before we came back to the states. Tonight we gathered, cried, and sat out on our roof, and we talked about how we can take back our narrative, be light, have joy no matter our location, no matter how foreign this place feels, and continue on no matter how difficult things can be. And they can be very difficult. We gave our kids permission to be sad, and took a moment to manage their grief and ours, which doesn’t happen as often as it should. But we also told them to remember who we were, and how we lived free and bold and how we must get back to that. On our roof tonight, we declared ‘enough’. Yes, we’ll have hard times, and misunderstandings and we’ll question ourselves and we’ll keep going to therapy. But enough of a narrative that whispers ‘what if’ and enough time has already been spent on being angry and losing hope. We are free to let go of all the expectations we are not meeting and likely won’t, and free to tell anger and fear to take a hike, and free to love even when we get pushed away, and free to hope for great things even when we can’t see evidence of things...

Grief on the way to Healing

The first time I ever visited a place of extreme poverty, the most unexpected thing was how I lost all my words when trying to explain or share the experience.  In the moment, I was only taking it in, and nothing could have prepared me for what I would see there or how it might change me.  The disconnection I felt to my words was new for me, and so was the experience.  Over and over I would say, “I’ve lost my words.” or “I don’t know what I feel.”   It was as if God had shut down my gifts of expression, and disconnected me from emotions momentarily so I could be present and pay attention. Grief has brought many of these types of memories to mind.  Maybe it’s the issue of unchartered territory, and how it changes you but I wouldn’t really know.  You never know how grief is going to play out in your life, and it certainly isn’t anything I could have tried to map out for myself or for our family.  Now, add different layers of loss, and you’ve got a complicated suitcase to unpack.   And if you’re at all like me, I leave my suitcases packed way longer than I should.  I put off the inevitable, but there it sits, waiting for me to put things where they go and do the work.  This has been true in the loss of my sister and her husband and in the folding in of their 3 kids with ours, making a new family.  We are now a blended family, and we struggle to find what we’re...

On a Personal Note…

We head back to Austin in a few weeks for the first time since leaving. It’s the last place we considered home. Anticipating many questions, I’ve had a mind full, wondering how to adequately describe our first year and ½ in a new culture, language, team and life rhythm. I don’t think there’s a great way to encompass it all. It was both beautiful and heartbreaking. It was the hardest year of our life, and it was worth it. It’s taken us this long to acknowledge and accept many things about this journey and that acceptance has only come from God himself. Again, Jesus has again been enough, more than sufficient. As we wrestled through the costs, the emotional, spiritual, financial, and physical, we know that after an honest moment with Jesus, it’s not our costs we should be concerned about. But our flesh wants to count them over and over… Our heart wants to be known, understood, even just listened to… But this isn’t always a reality for any of us. God didn’t promise us this would be comfortable or that we’d understand or enjoy all aspects of this journey. But he does promise that He loves us. His purposes will not get derailed in the most dysfunctional of circumstances. I came to a realization over the past several months that I actually can do anything through Christ Jesus. I get it wrong all the time, but his power is available to me. I can be kind even when I want to scream. I can trust him to effect change. I don’t have to seek my own justice....

Two Months in Costa Rica Newsletter!

Hello Family and Friends! It’s been such a journey already, and hard to believe we’ve been here almost 2 months, and that our kids are already back in school. Here’s a rundown of life here, and what God’s teaching us. LIFE HERE: We are adjusting, and it’s really different here, but the confidence of God’s purpose for us here grows every day. Our children seem to be walking testimonies of our answered prayer of peace, and joy and confidence in who they are in Christ through such a big transition. Some hard conversations with our kids, and some tears from grieving the loss of our incredible community, but we have more laugher than tears, and deeper joy in the trusting of his provision for us here. We live at Finca Alzahar, what used to be a strawberry farm only 5 minutes from the kids’ school, and only 10 minutes from the nearest grocery store. We are getting settled and are driving, grocery shopping and cooking almost every meal. We experienced our first consistently hot shower last Sunday since arriving, and have experienced 4-5 power outages, have cooked dinner by candlelight, and actually been wakened at night by 2 earthquakes. We are even becoming experts at sharing the road with giant trucks and many cars on tiny roads that are filled with people, bikes, dogs, cows, horses and many potholes. 🙂 We begin language school August 26th! Kids started school and like it so far, and have made a few friends after the awkward first day. Each of our kids have one other American in their class, and then a...