Sometimes it's hard to remember what life used to be like one short year ago. A life where routine was normal. Phil went to work in the shed outside; I homeschooled the boys. Lunch was at noon, quiet time at 1PM, and dinner at 5:30. Lots of spontaneous park dates with friends. Housecleaning, cooking food, watching movies from my couch on my laptop. Snuggling under my warm covers in bed. It seems so long ago.
I miss the people I love in Seattle. I miss the ease of life. I miss the joy of friendship. I miss being part of the many stories that are being written there while I'm away.
I miss my family in California. Although the four months of living in transition there was not easy, I had some good, intensified time with my family. We got to become a part of new church family and a wonderful small group that loved on us. Yet even though we left there only a month ago, it seems more like a different lifetime.
Our lives have had to begin again. We had 8 suitcases coming with us across the ocean, and everything else is new to us. We've had to learn how to adapt quickly, and yet routine escapes us as everything is harder here. We've become accustomed to things like: taking bucket showers, handwashing dishes in a bucket using a faucet outside, sharing our home with geckos, drinking only bottled water, not flushing our TP, and cooking over a single electric stovetop. We've learned to appreciate the simpler pleasures in life and to be thankful for them.
And yet, I can't imagine my life any other way... This life seems so foreign to me, and it is! I don't speak the language, I'm still learning my way around town, and sometimes I don't know what I'm doing here. But, I feel that same way about Seattle and California too. Home seems elusive.
Eventually, we will be living in our new home more in the center of town. We will have many more of the conveniences that we enjoyed in America. We will learn the language and grow our community. Yet, I'm grateful for this part of the story. Not only because it helps me understand my neighbors in the village more, but also because it is teaching me that everything I have is a gift. More than just gifts of stuff. Gifts of friendship. Gifts of love. Gifts of community. Even the special gift of the memories that I have from back home.