Why is it that the people we truly love are the ones we only
tolerate, use, or expect things from?
Why is it that those we don’t really care about we work to
impress, we go outside our way to help, and we are polite to?
Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
Why do things that are familiar become taken for granted?
Shouldn’t they be more appreciated because they are
familiar?
They sure are when they are NOT there. Sometimes I wonder if
we only have the sentimental feeling of love when we feel some kind of absence
of it…
A poem that rhymes this time. Weird.
I just want to turn away
My head
If I don’t see it
It can’t be true
I just want to go back
To the moment
Before I knew
That there is something very wrong
With how things are going
And now I start to wonder
How long that I have been knowing
That something needs to happen
And changes are here
The end is already over
And the beginning is near
Now that my eyes are open
How do I live the same way
Things look so different
Since I took the mask away
How do I reconcile
That this is real?
That there is something very wrong
With how things are going
And now I start to wonder
How long that I have been knowing
That something needs to happen
And changes are here
The end is already over
And the beginning is near
Do I say it to your face
Do I run and hide
Do I stay under the covers
And refuse to go outside
Do I take responsibility for something
That is not my sin
Holding on to a battle
I do not want to win
There is something very wrong
With how things are going
And now I start to wonder
How long that I have been knowing
That something needs to happen
And changes are here
The end is already over
And the beginning is near
**
So the tickets are bought and paid for. I arrive in the US
May 12, just before dinnertime. Mom said it will be a wonderful Mother’s day
gift. I feel guilty because I didn’t really plan it and forgot it was Mother’s
day. Opps. I return to Brasil August 20…but I’ll probably leave alittle early
and spend some time in Florida again. Amazing opportunities to travel…
It is neat what God is setting up for my time at home. I
won’t have any of my usual responsibilities…school and work and such…so I have
begun my list of things that must be tried. Don’t laugh—I am serious, there
really is a list. On the top of it is doing something special for Dad’s 60
birthday, teaching my brother how to ride a bike, and going to Rachel Jones’
wedding…all of which I would have missed.
Me: I just want to know that…I am enough
God: You are not enough. I am enough and in Me you are
enough
Me: I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry. It is everything
I wanted to hear and yet not
God: Let me be enough for the both of us
“If our hopes are being disappointed right now, it means
that they are being purified” –Oswald Chambers
The days are passing so quickly. Life is completely
different when you know you will only be there two weeks rather than two
months. It shouldn’t be. I wish it wasn’t…things like—I find time to talk to
people and listen. I give more hugs. I give out less demerits. I give more
things away. I sleep less. I plan and try to stuff everything into a day. I eat
more pipoca doce. It is easier to get up in the morning. I feel more excited
about things in general.
It was like I had hit a slump or something…lack of motivation and desire…then everything
changed and I am leaving…and it hits me that life is still “An adventure to
live, not a problem to solve.” Even though I am pretty sure I was near to
solving it. Then what would I have done?
There is something weird going on and someone is hacking
into everyone’s e-mail and passwords and stuff. I hate it. even worse, I hate
having to change my passwords, because I’ll never manage to remember them.
We have begun using the PACES at school. 6 five year olds
sitting for an hour and forty minutes doing workbooks. I never would have
believed it, but they managed! Incredible. The PACES are all in English.
Designed for American children. So sometimes it gets alittle tricky and we just
take it real slow. It makes for a really long afternoon…but is worth it.
The kids had to do timed addition tests—in English today.
Gabriel kept answering anything that was 11 or 12 with “Tweven.” And it made me
very unprofessional and giggly. Good ol’ tweven.
You know your students are listening when:
- Something
drops and they say “oh boy!” - Someone
gets hurt and they say “be careful!” - “Refrigerator”
is now only remembered by “Refriger-rachel” - I
called the toilet a throne once and now that is how they remember it - Everything
is named “Harry” or “George” (names I have given various insects and
ghosts that have occupied our classroom) - Karine told them of my habit of opening
and closing my mouth randomly when I cut things…and now they constantly
try to trick me into cutting something so they can laugh hysterically
about it - Everyone
turns and looks at me when the word “Chocolate” is said. I must then make
the appropriate disgusted face and say “yuck!” so they can argue with me
about how good chocolate is - I am
introduced to their parents as the girl who does not like chocolate and
loves bolo de rolo and Maracuja - They
do not say the word “peanut butter” they sing it (from the little girl
scout song “peanut, peanut butter, and jelly) - They
do not say the word “swing” they sing it three times (from the first line
of a song by the All-American Rejects—“swing, swing, swing…I don’t even
know the rest of the song anyways…)
It is scary to hear sometimes how close their intonation and
English is JUST LIKE MINE…oh dear, what have we done?
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