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Last Christmas in Baja? Wrestling with the Unknown and Another Big Move
The C9 bulbs sit snug and proud, wrapped around the palm. It’s fat, freshly trimmed, and still full of green. Through the fall and into winter, palms don’t change. “It looks like a pineapple,” my husband says. “A glowing one.” He’s right; our own tropical Christmas. But whose kids are those? The holiday is celebrated here, yes, but you have to drive to the cities to see red and green explosions alongside gifts in excess. A peek into our low-income town will show you single strands of dim lights, old-school decor and a few lawn ornaments you might consider tacky. Big deal. We who possess bright white…
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Double Border, Side of Stress, Hold the Sunset
Crossing the Mexican border solo is not my favorite. But living in Baja for ten years makes me prepared, mostly confident and ready. Until that one time. After a lousy weekend back home for a funeral, I board some 737, block my row with stuff and close my eyes. Guilt tells me to open them and welcome any passerby, but the plane is virtually empty and I am spent. After touching down in San Diego, all that stands between me and getting home before dark is shifting my weight for 30 minutes at carousel #1, finding my shuttle, retrieving my vehicle, grabbing a fully-leaded liquid treat and heading for stores.…
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Cross-Cultural Patience: People Wait for God in Hamburg, Germany Too
I made a new friend! She’s on the other side of the Atlantic, but technology doesn’t discriminate when an American writer in Germany and an American writer in Mexico bond over the not-so-popular W-word. We both love Jesus and we both wrestle with waiting. Works for me! Please give a big “Welcome/Bienvenida/Willkommen” to Caitlin Lieder. Moving to Germany meant stepping out in faith in a big way. It was a new level of trusting Jesus; we moved internationally a few times but never with four kids under five years old, and we did not make the decision lightly. We talked and prayed with our small group, pastor, and trusted family members for over a year…
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In the Eye of the Swarm: Learning Patience While Waiting for Everything to Change
They come in near silence, minding their business and ready to work. They never need blueprints, complain of the load or ask for time off. Their days are long and full of physical labor. They don’t work for the weekend; the word itself does not exist in their world. They are not lazy, selfish or greedy. They toil as a team with their boss in mind; everything exists for her. But amidst their fantastic attributes, they are squatters by nature. They move in without asking, build without permits, and defend their stolen property with a vengeance. So who do you call when they join forces, come out swinging, and threaten…
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She Just Knew
We stood in the back of the rustic church and rocked our boys like footballs. My only goal was to gently bounce mine into sleep. I was focused on us. I had noticed her before but we were quite different and not drawn to one another. Coming from an indigenous Mexican background she was awkwardly shy, avoiding eye contact and touch. We sang songs in her language and swayed to the rhythm while flags were waved and the audience clapped off beat. I was distracted by everything. My limited Spanish skills kept me from getting to know anyone past the typical greetings. People stared and seemed curious about new white people in…
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Easter Fail
I knew he was familiar with the Easter story, but I had never heard our seven-year-old try to re-tell it on his own. We only read the full account of Jesus’ death and resurrection once a year; I expected him to get a couple details wrong. Pride welled when he began. Then perfectionism kicked in and disappointment welled when he continued. Not disappointment in my boy—in me and my parenting skills. We use a visual aid called Resurrection Eggs and the carton contains a dozen plastic eggs, each one containing an object to help convey the meaning of Easter. For example, in the orange egg you’ll find praying hands, and the…
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The Circus Next Door
I asked God to direct my writing and give me material. This is not what I had in mind. Large trucks pull into the empty lot around lunchtime. The photo-wrapped trailer shimmies up to the far fence and faces the road. The other one shimmies up to our side yard. That’s close enough, thanks. Nice of you to block the dust, but I don’t need you checking out our laundry or feeding our dogs through the chainlink. My attitude plummets when truck and trailer detach, back doors swing open, and a washing machine appears… about 20 feet from mine. Let me guess—you want to borrow a hose? And tap into our…
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10 Años of Blessings… and Mud
Where were you on February 28, 2006? Not exactly a national day to remember, I know. But for us it was the day we moved to another country. To another culture. To another life. Our oldest was four, I was 35 weeks prego with our second, and we spent our first night in Baja, Mexico. Actually, in El Porvenir. But more specifically, in a 5th Wheel trailer. Have you ever tried to sum up ten years of your life in a few hundred words? My life in suburbia could be condensed rather easily: got married, got a job, got a puppy, bought a house, chaperoned a bunch of proms, pulled weeds,…
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Not Your Typical Pediatrician (Weight While You Wait)
“Be content with your surroundings, but not with yourself till you have made the most of them.” ~Anonymous It used to be a house. But narrow hallways of tile now lead to random doors of desired wellness. Medical buildings typically have some sort of theme: women’s issues, children’s health, mental well-being. Not this one. While I’m checking in my son Brock for a strange rash on his legs, a woman two rooms down is giving birth. Strangers behind us could be waiting for the psychologist, nutritionist, or surgeon. The posted flyer announces Ear Washing in a star word bubble, as well as Economical Packages for Cesarean Deliveries, while five tall…
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No Language, No Voice: Going to School in Another Country All Alone
“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” ~ Deuteronomy 31:6 I led my firstborn to the concrete classroom with the green metal door and faked a bit of confidence. Micah did not want to go in just as much as I did not want to leave, so we stood there squeezing hands and scanning the crowd. Dozens of brown eyes stared like they’d never seen white people. It was March—not the best time to enter a new school. Especially in another country. We had only lived in town…
