Is it that time already?

We were in Gainesville, Florida last week- the town I spent most of my growing up years and where I stayed until leaving for Bolivia.  For some reason, it felt much more nostalgic to be there this time, memories from many years gone by returning and taking me to places in my mind I haven't been for a while.  It might be because I was staying with the parent's of my longest, dear friend Ally.  I probably spent close to as many hours in her home, with her family, as I did with my own.  God taught me a lot about myself in those years and it was good and somewhat surreal to be back again, a mother now, with my own children.  One afternoon, while the girls were snoozing, a rain storm came.  I've explained to Natty in the past how wonderful it is to go outside in a good, heavy rain and run and play and dance.  In Florida, most of the rain storms we have don't lower the temperature all that much, so it's reasonable to run around in them if the lightening isn't too close by.  I sat outside on the big, wooden porch where I've sat so many times.  As a tween, trying to grow comfortable in my own skin, as a teenager, longing to have life figured out, as a young woman, laughing with my girlfriends and seeing the future as wide-open and full of possibilities.  And now, as a not as young woman with some pretty big stuff already behind me but knowing that there's so much more to come.  I sat down in a chair and watched the rain.  Hitting hard the surface of the pool water, making it furiously jump back up.  Blowing through the branches of the huge oak trees with their long mossy arms waving wildly.  Clanging the wind chimes hanging off the corner of the porch.  It was spectacular and so familiar and felt so much like home.  God reminded me of His faithfulness to me over the years- in all stages of my life.  It never ceases to amaze me how faithful God is to His promises and to taking care of His children.  We've seen that in countless ways during this time back- this escape from a rough situation.  We wondered if we'd hear what we needed to hear from God.  Would we have the time and the spiritual sensitivity to listen?  It really is good that it doesn't depend on us…

So, the 2 week mark has hit.  Coundown.  Again.  How many times have we gone through this?  Arriving- feeling like we have so much time stretching before us and an endless list of things we want to do, stuff to buy, people to see.  Hitting the middle and feeling like we've been here forever and the days feel normal and we just kinda live.  Then, reaching the end and realizing that there's still more people to see, more to do, but just not the time to make it all happen.  And, the looming return.  The excitement mixed with apprehension.  The anticipation of reunions with people we love, while unattaching ourselves again from people we love.  And now, the tears of grandchildren saying good-bye to their grandparents- pretty sure that Bolivia could never be as wonderful as free crayons from Publix and libraries and Chic-Fil-A.  But, it's always amazing how quickly re adjust to being back in Bolivia- a country that will never feel as comfortable as here, but is home nonetheless.