I have moved to Zambia, Africa.
I have gone from "actively" mothering (as in living in my home and financially responsible for...!) five children down to three, then two. And soon enough it will be 1. And a half. (He won't live here... but we still get to pay! lol)
I have three dogs. Three. Dogs. Seriously.
I am living in a third world country and learning all that entails.
Over this past year, on a regular basis I thought of what I could condense down into a few words and put on the blog. And seriously, I was consistently overwhelmed.
To say that I have experienced some highs and lows is another understatement.
Higher highs than I ever thought possible.
Hearing testimonies from a Zambian national of how she have achieved spiritual victory over unforgiveness that was held on to for over 10 years.
Seeing people follow the Lord in scriptural baptism, and hearing their testimony of how my husband played a vital role in their salvation.
Learning of a situation of five children being double orphaned after the death of their father, and being able to help them regain hope of staying in school and living with a family that will love and care for them.
Being able to host twenty young adults traveling the globe for 11 months, and pouring a little bit of home into their time here in Zambia. Having my house full with young people laughing, eating, and having my front foyer loaded with flip flops and Tevas... Awesome!
Being 8,000 miles away while two children graduated from college, and one celebrated high school graduation.
Being 8,000 miles away while my precious mother-in-law struggled with flooding in her home. Twice. Within 8 days. Having to call and see how she is doing while she is admitted and released, only to be readmitted into the hospital several times.
Being 8,000 miles away while my children in the states navigate job hunting, car accidents, personal friendships. Seeing them make their own holiday traditions with out us. Looking on at a distance as they choose life-long partners.
So, I resorted to the safe, simple, short, and sweet. My recording of last year has been reduced to a few posts in 180 characters or less, and a few pictures that have been enhanced on instagram. It was easy to paint a pretty face and keep it simple.
But I have missed this little blog. I realize more than ever that it is my journal of sorts. It is more for me and my life's record. I always wanted to have a journal from a great grandmother way in my past that wrote long scroll y words in an old leather bound book that was lost in an attic trunk for generations only to be read by me to my kids, and learn of our heritage. Very cinematic in my mind!
While this won't ever be in a leather bound journal, it is recorded. Truth be told, if I wrote in my own hand it may be a bit more sentimental but it would be completely illegible!
So once again, I am going to try to distill my thoughts, emotions, experiences, devotional "AhHa!" moments. I am not going to worry too much about it being perfect.
My life is neither.
But it is worth remembering!