One day at a time...
Wow. Don't really even know what to say at this point. I feel pretty bereft of poetic thoughts and feelings. Just sort of empty, yet overflowing. I realize that paradox doesn't make any sense. But I suppose that's how life is sometimes--we can't make sense of things all the time. I certainly can't make sense of my life right now. I don't know how to encapsulate the time left undocumented in anything that would make sense to the reader. So, I'll stick to weather-like topics.
I had to leave my husband again for an unknown length of time to return to a job and a house contract here in the States. I can always look back and think that I ought to have done some more research, taken more time, chosen a different process...but I have the here and now to deal with, so I guess I will tuck my shouldas, wouldas, and couldas away for a rainy day when perhaps I can share my life experiences with others in a similar season.
I am still working at figuring out a functional system here in Missoula in my new job, Spanish teaching at Valley Christian School. Although I have to admit moving to Missoula was not on my bucket list, or even a preference list, or even a "like" list, I am loving living here! OK, I hate Reserve, but who doesn't? It's not the worst I've driven in, and even with traffic, I'm only 13-15 minutes away from work. Plus, I get to keep my 3rd-world country driving skills fresh and active this way. :-P (Comment specifically intended for those who KNOW what that sort of driving entails!)
My coworkers are fantastic, my kids have won my heart already--(and keeping me on my toes every moment)--and if I ever find time to mow my ginormous lawn, I will have accomplished a full transition to life here...well, almost. Once my husband gets to be here and not 3,500 miles away, I will have accomplished a full transition. As it is, I am torn in half and constantly feeling a giant distraction gap somewhere in the functional portion of my brain and heart. I wish somehow I could slice through the beauracracy of immigration and just have them make an exception for me, but I am but one of thousands wishing the same thing. I do not want to be reduced to a whining, bitter waiter, but I admit that at times, I can feel only bitterness toward a system that really doesn't care for matters of the human heart. I know that my God is bigger than man's red tape, but I still find myself wallowing in despair at times, feeling like the reality of Bairon ever coming here is more of an irreality, really. One day at a time!
I had to leave my husband again for an unknown length of time to return to a job and a house contract here in the States. I can always look back and think that I ought to have done some more research, taken more time, chosen a different process...but I have the here and now to deal with, so I guess I will tuck my shouldas, wouldas, and couldas away for a rainy day when perhaps I can share my life experiences with others in a similar season.
I am still working at figuring out a functional system here in Missoula in my new job, Spanish teaching at Valley Christian School. Although I have to admit moving to Missoula was not on my bucket list, or even a preference list, or even a "like" list, I am loving living here! OK, I hate Reserve, but who doesn't? It's not the worst I've driven in, and even with traffic, I'm only 13-15 minutes away from work. Plus, I get to keep my 3rd-world country driving skills fresh and active this way. :-P (Comment specifically intended for those who KNOW what that sort of driving entails!)
My coworkers are fantastic, my kids have won my heart already--(and keeping me on my toes every moment)--and if I ever find time to mow my ginormous lawn, I will have accomplished a full transition to life here...well, almost. Once my husband gets to be here and not 3,500 miles away, I will have accomplished a full transition. As it is, I am torn in half and constantly feeling a giant distraction gap somewhere in the functional portion of my brain and heart. I wish somehow I could slice through the beauracracy of immigration and just have them make an exception for me, but I am but one of thousands wishing the same thing. I do not want to be reduced to a whining, bitter waiter, but I admit that at times, I can feel only bitterness toward a system that really doesn't care for matters of the human heart. I know that my God is bigger than man's red tape, but I still find myself wallowing in despair at times, feeling like the reality of Bairon ever coming here is more of an irreality, really. One day at a time!
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