~That Not Uncommon Theme ~

I stumbled across a blog post about stressed out missionaries... and based on the list below, it seems to be a not uncommon theme in these lives we lead.

Tim and I were having a late night talk (it was sometime after 1 a.m. - he surprised me because he usually won't stay up that late to talk ...at least not since we stopped just dating and got married! I should be thankful my smart man values sleep!), and one of his comments was that everyday things here don't necessarily make life harder - they just take longer and you never actually know if you'll be able to get them done.

For example, today, I'm making a potato casserole for dinner - cooking the potatoes first in the crock pot and then tonight will combine with other yummies, top with cheese and bake in the oven before we actually eat it. As I leave the house to head out, I'll be hoping the electricity stays on, or when I get home this afternoon, I'll find well-soaked but still uncooked potatoes. Just that little unknown, or need for flexibility, or... whatever you wants to call it, adds (depending on my mood) adventure or frustration to life.

The other day I drove the kiddos to school. Tim wasn't feeling well, so I threw the little peanut M&M into the car with us, dropped the kids off, got back across the bridge without waiting in traffic too long and started back the main road to home, only to have all traffic stop because the president was traveling in town. Again, that is a very normal occurrence as I usually end up sitting and waiting or the police or the army to open up the roads again 3 or 4 times a week, at least - adding another half hour or 45 minutes to the already fairly full schedule. This time was a little different, however. The army guy who stopped traffic our direction must have been new because my landcruiser, the car right behind me, a couple of motorcyclists and a couple of bicyclists ended up caught in between where traffic was stopped and a military escort (about 15 vehicles) that pulled up behind us... to escort the traveling dignitary. The army guy standing in front was obviously nervous... and there we sat there waiting for 20 minutes, with soldier standing about 20 feet in front of us, his finger on the trigger of his automatic weapon and his gun pointed in the general vicinity of the headlights on the landcruiser. The Nigerien businessman with suit and briefcase sitting/standing on the moto next to me was looking mighty uncomfortable... I couldn't blame him. I was busy trying to keep Mary's head down... just in case, ya know?

I didn't realize how tense I was during that small chunk of time - I was more preoccuppied with chatting with and keeping the little impatient one in the car with me happy. Then the soldier who looked so very on edge walked to the side of the road and finally, waved us on. I relaxed. And felt more than a bit jello-y... kind of like I'd just swam a mile after not having been training for several months. And all of that happened before 8 in the morning.

So, back to that blog post... here's the link (take the time to read this... she doesn't mince words). I've read several other fascinating things about this expat life our family leads as I've traipsed around the internet (internet permitting, of course), thinking about this topic - and here are a few of them:

1. "Love and Survival, in Life, in Missions"
2. "Just How Stressed are Missionaries..."
3. "Missionary Stress and 95' Living Rooms"
4. "Missionary Stress? You Bet!"
5. "The Ultra-spiritual Missionary and her Dog"

I read all of this... I know what I feel as I live this life every day... and today, I'm overwhelmed by one thought -

God is amazing!

That He'll take me and limit Himself by working through me, that He'll allow me to represent His name and His reputation to this world? Why? Because He is Who He is. And it isn't because He needs me... but because I need Him.

This life is a stressful life and it goes far above and beyond that with which I can cope on my own. That, in and of itself is a daily reality. So that means so much of what I do, I'm realizing, is Him. So very little of it is me... I'm too busy just trying to survive and He works all in, around and through that, most often in spite of me.

And that makes me thankful... and encourages me to keep on trying to follow step by step, moment by moment, as He leads... and maybe drops stress levels, at least a couple dozen points...

...as long as I keep remembering and clinging to that!

****************************************************

I wrote that a few years ago...

And was reminded of it this morning.

My husband has been gone for two months. 

We've "done" longer separations before. 

It still hasn't gotten any easier. In fact, with the crazy business of four high schoolers (including two drivers in training), one living-at-home-college student (and another relatively new driver) commuting for his first frigid Michigan winter, weather and roads, and a community which I love and treasure but which still doesn't completely feel like "my community..." this just might have been the hardest separation yet.

He arrived home late last night and I realized, once again, just how much stress it is easy to carry in our bodies... and also how we push on and keep doing the next thing... and do not realize just what we're asking of ourselves.

Living in the States, the challenges have been different than while we lived on the backside of a W. African desert.

But life, regardless of where we live, brings challenges, difficulties, stress...

God is good as long as we run to him.

Love Like A Gangster

I grew up in suburban America, and the gang culture I encountered upon our arrival in El Salvador was shocking to say the least. El Salvador is notorious for its criminal gang culture. The gangs are brutal and show little mercy. They threaten slum communities, extort shop owners, and keep school attendance low because kids are afraid of getting recruited at school. Rival gangs kill each other driving the homicide rates up throughout the country. 

Most people in El Salvador come into contact with gang members, and the influence that they hold over the society, each and every day. We have some gangsters involved in our ministry, and most of those we serve live in communities controlled by gang members. Many of the women I work with personally are fearful of the gangs, and live at their mercy. 

I was speaking to these women last week at our Valentine's Day party and we were talking about true love and what it looks like in our daily lives. As part of our discussion, I asked the women to tell me the best example of love they have ever seen. I expected them to share the love they have for their children, or perhaps the love between and man and a woman. Instead, one of them made a very different observation. 

"The best example of love I have seen is the love that gang members have for each other."

Heads nodded in agreement around the room, and several women went on to explain that gangsters respected each other, served without question or complaint, and were willing to die to defend the honor of a fellow gang member. They were closer than brothers, and constantly looked our for each other. Despite the violence, aggression, and cruelty, these gangsters knew something about true, sacrificial love. 

For the rest of the day I replayed the conversation over and over in my head. I felt a stab of guilt as I realized these women were seeing love between gang members clearly and undeniably. Did they see love from me? From our ministry team? What about from missionaries and churches here in El Salvador? Tension and back-stabbing are often the norm as ministries compete and tempers flare. What kind of love are we showing? Can we even come close to this gangster level of love? 

What about in my daily life? When people see me, do they see love? Or do they see someone in a hurry, aggravated with the heat and culture? Do they see someone willing to sacrifice, or do they see someone losing patience with her children? What about those marital disagreements that balloon into bigger problems and a shortness of grace? 

Am I radiating honor, respect, and sacrificial love to those around me? 

The truth is that I am falling short in this area. It is easy to focus on what I have had to sacrifice for others, instead of on what has been sacrificed for me. Jesus has a love that rises above what any gang members could ever show. He laid down His life for not only His closest friends, but also His enemies. He laid down His life for me, so how can I not pass that kind of true love along? 

I don't have a death threat hanging over my head if I decide to turn my back on those I love, but I do have the promise and hope of life compelling me to love each and every day. I know I have much to learn and far to go, but I'm praying that God can give me a true and unrelenting love…a love that sticks closer than a gangster. 

I would love to hear about your experiences…what examples of love are evident in your culture? Have they helped you to see your own calling in a unique way? 

Tuesday Together: Books!

(Maybe I should try switching Tuesdays Together to Wednesdays? Last week I just couldn't post; today our electricity was off all day and just came back on....)

This goes right along with our most recent post. We planned to regularly include books in here with our coffee, tea, friendship, and chatting, so once again, I ask: what are you reading now? And, I'll add a bonus question: what are your children reading?

I just finished The Pastor's Wife with the Velvet Ashes book club, and I highly recommend it! There is a lot of fun, much to think through, and some beautiful writing in there, all available for free. I'll try to post some of my children's recommendations in the comments a little later.

Oh, also if you want to go back to the last time we discussed what we're reading, that's here.

Books for Missionary Families

You know me, I love sharing practical things that make our life overseas just a bit easier or more familiar.  And boy, do I have a fun resource to share with you today!!

So, one of the things that was hardest for us to leave behind when we moved to Costa Rica was our books.  Oh, sure, we were thrilled when someone gave us a Kindle, but you all know, there is something different about holding the physical book in your hands, the smell, the knowing where something is on a page.

Now that we have a young reader on our hands who is devouring everything we give him, it's become more of a challenge to find quality books that we can afford.  Seriously, books are so expensive in Costa Rica, not to mention the selection of English books is very limited.

Well.  I don't really remember where I found out about Gail and her Kid's Books without Boarders, but can I just tell you, this lady is amazing!!!

She grew up in France as a MK and one of her favorite things was getting new English books.  She and her husband now live in Indiana and she has this fantastic ministry of giving (yes, you read that right, GIVING) books to missionary families!  She does ask that you pay the shipping within the US (she uses media mail, so the cost is very low).

We've gotten several orders from her and she is so fun!  She found out we were from Michigan and when she ran across a book about Michigan, she just included it in our order.  She has a really good selection of books, everything from non fiction to picture books, to quality novels.  There is also a great selection of books that would appeal to families living overseas.  We've gotten several with Latin American themes and one about how sometimes language learning can just be hard.  That one in particular was helpful to read as we struggle through language learning with our kids. 

So seriously, hop on over to Kid's Books without Borders and send Gail an email!  And tell her Liz sent ya.

Tuesday Together: MKs growing up

(Yes, I know it's not Tuesday. I'm sorry! Yesterday just ran away from me.)

I was really encouraged by Christie's post about her teen daughter. And that led me to want to discuss more: If your children are still young, what kind of path do you think they'll take as they get older? If you're in the midst of older children, what directions are yours headed (in general)?

(If you have something you'd like to ask about on a Tuesday, please send it to me at fylliska@gmail.com. Thanks!)

Rekindling the Romance...

Seeing as it’s Valentine’s Day, it is only appropriate that we have a story about love. This, however, isn’t probably going to be exactly the story that you’re expecting.

Before I became a wife and a mother, I loved ballet. I started dancing when I was 3 and eventually spent years dancing for hours upon hours each day. I loved the movement, the music, performing, the physical challenge, the satisfaction of seeing progress… It gave me so much enjoyment and was a huge part of my life.  

 

Dancing at age 15

Once my husband and I married, we had our eyes firmly set on our God’s call to the mission field and our hope to start a family. These two joys were far more satisfying than even my beloved ballet, and for many reasons, I decided to quit dancing. I was not sad about it. It didn’t feel like a loss. I was ready to move on. 

My last performance

Eleven years later, just this past autumn, after pouring myself out almost exclusively for these two great joys, my family and our life in ministry, I hit a season this where I was really struggling physically, and as a result of the physical struggles, I was exhausted and having a hard time emotionally. For months there were many symptoms that the doctors couldn’t figure out. I went from diagnosis to diagnosis with no successful treatment. I finally got a big part of the puzzle figured out when I discovered that weakness in my back was the cause of a lot of nerve pain. The doctor’s prescription was for me to find a way to exercise in order to regain strength and to correct my posture. Thinking this over, it didn’t take long for me to realize that ballet would greatly help with both. 

I started taking ballet again about a month ago, after an 11 year break. That first class back was so physically hard, but so exhilarating at the same! I had totally forgotten how much I love ballet. I immediately began feeling better physically as my strength improved, and much to my surprise, doing ballet again has brought a joy to my life that I had completely forgotten existed. There is such great joy and fulfillment in doing things that are deeply meaningful in and eternal sense, but I believe that the Lord also designed us to take joy in other things simply because they are pleasurable. He loves us with a fatherly love that desires to give us all types of joy. Through this little ballet revival of mine, the Lord has reminded me that He not only values me delighting in the deeply meaningful kingdom work that He has called me to, but as a loving Father He also desires to bless me by allowing me to truly enjoy the beauty in this world that He has created. For me, that happens through the motions of dance and the beauty of classical music. For others it will be something totally different. 

11 year's later, I got a new pair of "boots!"

I’ve also seen how my emotional and physical reserves have greatly increased as I’ve made room for this hobby. I thought I’d be squeezing our schedule and decreasing my capacity to make room for ballet, but I’ve actually found that the opposite has happened because I am so much more energized than I have been in years. Moms, it is so hard to find the time for seemingly frivolous things like hobbies, but wow, had I truly believed the commonly shared wisdom of maintaining a good outlet for personal enjoyment, I would never have let this part of my life slip for so many years. I feel like I am delighting in the Lord in new ways and more able to delight in my callings as a mother and missionary as a result of making this space to care for myself. I know we've all heard such things a million times, but really, it is actually true! For some reason I thought that the years with little ones in particular were a time where such things would need to be set aside (my kids are 9, 7, 4, and almost 2), but I’ve realized that this is perhaps a time where I need this outlet more than ever!

Friends, do you have a hobby that you do simply for your own enjoyment? Perhaps a form of exercise or art? Maybe a craft or talent? Is there anything that you do now that makes you experience the Lord's love and care for you simply because you enjoy it so much?  If not, what is a hobby or talent that you’ve loved in the past that you have let go? If you’re in the camp that I was in only a month ago of having little to no personal outlet, I would greatly encourage you to try to creatively make space in your schedule to care for yourself in this way! Oh, how I wish I had done this sooner!

(Also, we had a little posting glitch due to the time differences between continents, so this post and Sarah's previous post ended up close together. If you haven't seen Sarah's post below this yet, you won't want to miss it!)

With Eyes Lifted Up

 

This is "my" mountain... the one that we could see clearly from the living room window of our first house here in our small town in Costa Rica.  It is the same one that I could see from the corner of our front porch in our second house, and, when I needed some soul refreshment, the one that I could see in all of its majesty by walking past the mango grove and to the end of our street.  Every Sunday, we drive out of town towards our church, down one steep mountainside, over a one-lane bridge, and then up to the neighborhood where our church building is currently located, at the foot of this beautiful mountain.  For me, this mountain has been a steady landmark -- one that I can find on the horizon to get directions straight in our little town where there are no addresses and very few street names.  Seeing it helps me know where I am, as well as give a reminder of our church family, the reason we're here.

But, most of all, this mountain frequently brings to mind one of my favorite verses in the Psalms:

"I lift my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from?  My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth."  - Psalm 121:1

While I loved this verse in my college days of spending summers in the Colorado Rockies, it first became a great encouragement to me when my husband and I were newlyweds and were in Guatemala City.  I was overwhelmed by the poverty that was so prevalent and by the crime and real danger we were exposed to there.  I found myself crying out to the Lord, "I don't know if I can live here!".  God gently reminded me to lift my eyes, not just to the beauty of the volcanoes and mountains surrounding the city (which were so easy to not see when overwhelmed by what we were seeing on the streets!), but to Him, my help.

A couple of years later, God redirected us to Costa Rica, and to language school in the capital city, San José, where at first my focus was too much on the barred windows, the high concrete walls, and razor wire surrounding each building.  It seemed scary, and definitely wasn't the physical beauty my heart longed for.  But, again, God reminded me of Psalm 121- to lift my eyes up, not just to the hint of a mountain I could see if I stood at just the right angle on our apartment's balcony, but up further to Him who promises to watch over me.  I had to choose what I was going to focus on - my overwhelming, unfamiliar surroundings, or my God who is my help. 

our well secured apartment building in San José, Costa Rica (that still got broken into!)

There might not always be beautiful mountains to bless our physical eyes, but we can always direct our spiritual eyes to Him.  I remember a couple of years after moving out of the city to our ministry location, I found myself back in downtown San José, with our daughter in the NICU, after she was born a month early... when the country was in a state of national emergency because of flooding and landslides (that morning, a landslide had blocked the road to the hospital... but that's a story for another day!).  While I stood next to her crib, I looked out the window of the NICU and panic filled me as I stared at the seemingly endless sprawl of corrugated metal roofs, trash, and run-down buildings.  I couldn't see any mountains - physical or figurative - to lift my eyes to!  My thoughts were quickly rushing towards fear and doubt about our decision to have our baby in a developing country.  I remember God's comfort, "Lift your eyes to Me, Sarah.  Your help comes from Me.  I am watching over you and your baby." 

I wish I could say that that memorable moment was a total turning point for me, because it was so significant in my process of accepting Costa Rica as my home... but, I still struggle with letting my surroundings and circumstances govern my feelings and focus.  We recently moved to a different house, and I've been feeling disoriented now that I can't see "my" mountain.  But, God is working on me, reminding me that the point of lifting my eyes to the hills isn't to just to be blessed by their beauty, but to be reminded of Him who is my true strength and help. 

As I post this, I'm praying for all of us - that we will be women who live with eyes lifted up to our Maker, whatever our surroundings and circumstances might be!

"He will not let your foot slip - He who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, He who watches over Israel will not slumber nor sleep.  The Lord watches over you - the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.  The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore." - Psalm 121:3-8

I would love to hear from you.  Is it hard to move your focus off of what is difficult about your current surroundings and on to God?  What has been encouraging you lately to live with eyes lifted up to Him? 

Tuesday Together: Cross-cultural friendships

For today's Tuesday Topic Melissa asks: What have been some obstacles for you in developing cross cultural friendships? How have you overcome them? How long did it take? In what ways do those friendships affect your life?

We look forward to your answers and discussion in the comments!

If you have a question you would like to discus in the future, please send it to me at fylliska@gmail.com.

You're not Asking for Yourself

We had been married for only a few weeks when we found ourselves sitting with the pastor of our sending church. He asked us what our ministry will look like now that I was a part of it. Then he asked how our support raising was going. I was new to missions and raising support, so it was a struggle for me. I explained that it was hard to ask for support because it felt selfish. What Pastor said in response helped change my attitude and gave me more confidence.

image credit

You're not asking for yourself.

What? But we're asking for people to support us by giving us any spare change they have so that we can do what God has called us to do. How is that not selfish? Well, it's not selfish. The truth is we ask for support because God wants us to serve in our respective host countries and we want our family and friends to come along side us as a part of our ministry. We're giving them the opportunity to serve God with us. By asking our family and friends for support, we're inviting them to join us in our ministry as we take the good news of Jesus to the places where they cannot go. They can help advance the Gospel, and you're the one who is giving them the opportunity!

So, is raising support easier when you remember that you're not asking for yourself? No, not really. The different perspective helps, but it's still not easy. Now to keep this in mind the next time we find ourselves sitting with potential supporters...

Surprise! Tales of a Teen Daughter

My baby has just finished her high school career. Even before moving to South America over 6 years ago, she was homeschooled in what I felt like was a pretty solid plan. From her preschool years of learning red and blue while she colored at the table beside me or learning to count while we drove around town, I've always imagined her slightly-less-than-traditional schooling to lead her right into some lovely scholarships that would pave the way to a challenging yet rewarding degree, ushering her into a fulfilling and lucrative career. Yep, that toddler in the car seat had a shining educational path ahead of her.

Then she tells me she doesn't want to go. 

Wait a minute. I was envisioning missionary kid grants and homeschooler scholarships and CLEPping out of tons of classes. I saw her connecting with the peers she missed so much and getting back into American culture and laughing as she made her way across campus to her next exciting class, just after leaving some fun extracurricular activity like FCA or the Christian Students Club.

But she doesn't want to go.

This is a topic that's been coming up off and on for the past two years or so, as she went through the mental checklist of pros and cons for each of her options. We talked about going to a 4-year university where she'd live on campus versus starting at a community college close enough to live with her eager grandparents as she eased back into American culture. We talked about the five months that would pass between when she'd finish her school year and when the US school year would end, and how she could use that time to explore or intern or maybe even travel a little.  

But she doesn't want to go.

Don't get me wrong. I'm absolutely, totally thrilled beyond words that I won't be putting her on a plane to leave the nest already. But I had to process her decision much more than she did, I'm afraid. Her logic is solid. She isn't ready to leave our home and she's aware of that. She's looked into other options like studying at a university here, taking online classes, interning, or taking a gap year. The one thing she is sure of when considering those choices is that

...she doesn't want to go.

I had to do some serious soul-searching over my gut reaction, which bordered on panic. I had to remind myself that God has a plan for her that just might be different than the one I'd always imagined. I had to remind other people that she may not do what they (and we) always assumed she would do. I had to remind her that I support her while she figures out this thing called adult life, even if I'm standing here with my jaw on the floor and my brain spinning while I process what she's decided. I had to remind us all that this one decision doesn't put her in a certain box or define her future in the way society might say it does. 

And I'm embarrassed at what I came up with when I stopped to think through why I panicked like I did. You know those days when you wonder if you've done irreparable damage by raising kids on the field? This was one of those days. I was stuck deciding if her decision was fear-driven and she just needed me to push her out of the nest so she could learn to fly, or if she honestly needed more time inside our four walls to feel prepared enough for venturing away? 

I had to face up to how much of my reaction was from my own fears--Will she be able to survive financially? Did I not do a good enough job homeschooling her to equip her to feel ready for this step? What will people think of her? What will people think of me? 

The Lord really had to settle me down and talk me off the ledge. He brought to mind many faces, people I'd consider exemplary adults functioning just fine in the real adult world, who had less than normal beginnings and followed the road less traveled. He took me to the Psalms and reminded me that He knew her before I did, that He planned her personality and her giftings before He placed her in our family--a family He knew would live overseas and not exactly be mothered by June Cleaver. 

In the end, I have to admire my baby girl for making this decision on her own, feeling pressure to go in other directions but following her heart. I don't know what God has planned for her, but I trust her future to the One who loaned her to me in the first place.

Had any surprises in your world lately?  How did you handle them?

IMAGE SOURCE: openhandweb.org

Tuesday Together: A day in the life (Melissa)

For me, today's "home visit" means running all the way around the world. We're off to visit with Melissa....

So we live in Nicaragua where my husband does "business as a mission" work, growing his website programming business, training and employing Nicaraguans and also working full time himself from home.  While he's doing that, I mother a 5-year-old boy, 3-year-old girl (4 tomorrow actually!), 2-year-old girl and 5-month-old boy.  Today felt a bit like a race, but that's fairly average so here we go.

I woke up to find my gem of a husband reading the Bible in the hammock surrounded by 3 sweet little distractions, i.e. our bigger kiddos.  So I grabbed Bibles for each of them and me and settled everyone in a bit more separate locations to read for a few minutes.  I hopped on my elliptical to get some exercise too before the day started to get hot.  Fifteen delightful minutes later, the public service alarm went off letting us all know it was 7AM.  Time to start the day!  

I went to get up our baby and nurse him while the kiddos began to jump into playing some sort of imaginary something which kept them quite occupied while I got ready for the day, threw in some laundry, bought milk from the milkman at the door and got breakfast ready for us all.  OK, so they weren't so occupied by the cooking part and I had some pretty enthusiastic helpers who worried me about spills but we made it through with no major mishaps.  Oatmeal today.  We ate about three bites and Karen our friendly cleaning lady came.  We stopped for a picture in honor of me recording our day :)  They love her!  Really, we all do.

Three bites later a loud knock at the door informed us that the fumigators were coming down the street so we stashed our oatmeal in the microwave and headed outside to avoid the fumes.  This happens every month or so to keep mosquito populations down as they can carry diseases we definitely want to avoid.  So we chatted with the neighbors on the front stoop for a half hour waiting for the fumes to dissipate.  My husband ran around the block with our 2-year-old to pick up bananas from our banana man because he just isn't a sit-still-doing-nothing kind of guy.  And one more thing off my list and one less baby to keep from jumping in front of a bus, woo hoo!  We live on the bus route, and there's just a sidewalk between our house-front and the street.

Back in the house we finally finish breakfast, and Baby goes down for his morning nap.  We head out back to hang up laundry to dry while the kiddos build forts in the leftover construction materials from when we renovated our house.  Definitely a highlight of the 5-year-old boy's day.  Makes me nervous though!

Then time for the 5-year-old's reading lesson while the younger girls play dress up in the other room.  I marvel at how he's actually learning to read sentences!  Despite being confused by vowels making completely conflicting sounds in English from Spanish.  He's a genius!  I always think that when he learns something new... then my second learns the same thing and it seems normal.  But I digress...

Quick errand trip with the girls while our boy decompresses from learning with legos.  Off to put minutes on my phone and buy cheese for lunch.  They're fun buddies, and make lots of people smile along the way with their blonde hair and baby-talk-Spanish.

Home again and time to get Baby up from his nap.  Nurse him, sweet smiles!  Gotta love a happy baby!  On to lunch making.  Not sure why I worked so hard on fancy guacamole though when my husband announces that our internet is too slow for his phone meeting right now (grrr, fritzy internet!) and heads out to have his meeting at an internet cafe.  Oh well, I still have good company.  Karen finishes and heads out.  We eat.  I have masterfully put the guac inside their quesadillas so they don't even notice they're eating veggies and gobble it all up.  I am feeling like a good Mommy.  

Ah, and then it's naptime.  Baby and toddler down to sleep.  Three and 5 year old rest with me for a nice, peaceful half hour.  Then quiet play for the bigger kiddos while the babies finish their naps and I catch up on some emails.  

Then everybody's up and the big boy heads off to Tae Kwan Do with Daddy who has his Spanish lesson in the same building at the same time and the girls and I get laundry down, folded, and put away.  A little leftover warming up for dinner.  Baby chows down on 3 servings of baby food, he is such a hungry little guy!

Then a quick bath for the kiddos to wash the sweat off and cool off before bed.  Nice family Bible-reading-Hymn-singing time that I just love.  My turn to put the boys to bed tonight.  Snuggles with my baby.  Under-the-stars chat with my big boy.  Lights out.  Aaahhh!  Decompress with my hubby about how long the process for licensing our car is taking and how our toddler's finally potty trained.  Hallelujah!

And that was today.  Cool breezes floating in again and I'm tired enough to sleep well before doing it again tomorrow!  I really do like it here.

~~~~~

Thank you so much, Melissa! Do anyone have questions or anything to add? Please comment below.

And for next week, I'm looking for a simple Tuesday Topic; who has a question you want to ask? Email it to me at fylliska@gmail.com.