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Home Sweet Trailer in Baja: Abraham’s Forever Faith in My Face
I am no longer a journaler. Journaler? That’s a weird word. I engaged my pens decades ago, especially when the subject matter revolved around boys, but then I tapered. Since then I’ve started and stopped more than start-stop technology in city traffic, but I just can’t get into it. So now I use them as notebooks, and I’m totally fine with that. No more guilt. For years I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want to journal anymore until I realized the list involved reasons I didn’t want to admit. Mix together slight perfectionism and the constant inner critic of an Enneagram one, with a full schedule and a woman…
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Corner Office Syndrome as a Boss: When it’s Always Lonely at the Top of the Business or Ministry
A few years ago I reported the results of a missionary survey I did and was surprised by their answers. (Especially when they matched mine.) With global loneliness at an all-time high, I thought I’d take a closer look into the phenomenon where some people might not look. The old cliché, “It’s lonely at the top” rings loud and true… 92% of missionaries I interviewed said yes to this question: Do you ever suffer from Corner Office Syndrome? (Knowing a ton of people but not having any real friends.) “Totally. I have lots of friends on Facebook, but nobody checks on me; I always have to reach out. It’s hard…
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Finishing Well. Sort Of: Moving to Another Country When You’d Rather Not
Did you know you’re never supposed to start a sentence with a number in the shape of a number? 11 years ago we had recently moved to Porvenir. We felt rather pale. And tall. 9 months ago we thought we might move back to the States. I didn’t want to. 7 weeks ago I stopped packing for our move and celebrated my last Mother’s Day in Mexico. 5 days ago Doug moved our fridge and beds into our new rental. Weird. 3 hours ago our real estate agent moved through our home with his tripod, clickety-clicking his way from the calle to the bodega to the baño. 1 minute ago…
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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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The White Girl Doesn’t Fit In
This post is part of Lysa TerKeurst’s Uninvited Book Blog Tour which I am delighted to be a part of along with many other inspiring bloggers. Are you a blogger? You’re invited! Do you know a blogger? Invite them! I don’t fit in. At all. And that’s okay. For the first few years I lived here I didn’t feel like it was okay though. I wanted to fit in so I could stop feeling insecure. I wanted browner skin, better Spanish and a clue about how to make tamales. I didn’t want to fit in so I could be with the cool kids, I just didn’t want to feel so different. Of…
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Cow Tongues, Colostomy Bags & The Donut Man
They’ve made me wonder, empathize, laugh and sigh. Cultural differences that aren’t right and aren’t wrong, just different. It was a common phrase we challenged every Ventana student over the years. Just because something is different than what we’re used to doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It might look strange to our American eyes, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t work. After living here for a decade I thought I’d seen almost every quirky cultural thing Mexico had to offer. Then I started looking for the unusual and taking pictures. You might think selling boots, eggs and honey on the same table is weird. Locals would call it convenient. Not…
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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,…
