Bad Day

You know that book Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad Day?

It stars out "I went to bed with gum in my mouth, and now there's gum in my hair."

Well, I've been having that kind of day. For two days.

On Saturday we woke up with no light. By Saturday night, there was no water either. Eating sandwiches and dry cereal. Sending the kids to the river to bathe while I wash my hair and face with water falling from the rain gutter. Everyone in bed by sunset (6:30pm) and going stir crazy. I went for a run to "get away" for a bit and found myself a mile from home and completely drenched by a sudden rain shower.
Into town for my day off and I spent 3 hours trying to cash a check (it's a long story)

Tired. Worn out. Frustrated.
A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day to be sure.

But then I stop for a coffee and a cookie (chocolate makes everything better) and a moment to think before I have a collapse of emotion.

Today I ate breakfast.
Today I got 3 hugs before 6 am.
Today I woke up in a warm bed.
Today I had money to go to the grocery store.
Today God kept me safe on the highway.
Today I was loved and appreciated.

How many people don't receive those things on a daily basis, and yet I do.

One of our children was abused by her own father and feared going to bed at night.
One of our children was locked in the house without food for almost two days.
One of our children ran drugs for an older sibling at the young age of 10.
One of our children was exposed to drugs and alcohol instead of being sent to school.
Many of our children came to us with deep emotion wounds that match the physical scars.
Many of our children begged and robbed and "lived" on the streets.
It still hurts my heart to hear the stories of these precious children, even if it is the 5th, 6th, 7th time.

I have never experienced any of those things.
Perspective.

So I guess it wasn't such a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day after all.

Twenty-five

A quarter of a century.

That's how old I am.

I am old.

Well, at least to the kids. I'm twice the age of most of them, and older than some of their parents.

In 25 years I have seen so much of the world, good and bad. I have seen the beauty of untamed wilderness, I have seen the horrible poverty of third world countries. I have felt the warmth of a pile of kids jumping on top of me, I have felt the sting of rejection. I have learned to share my toys and to share the Gospel. I have been victorious against skin cancer, and 16.5 years of schooling.

I have become independent. I have overcome my fear of the unknown. I look a challenge in the eye and laugh because I will always, ALWAYS triumph.

Yes. I am old.

But also
I am young.

I'm sure many of you are reading this and rolling your eyes. "What is this girl talking about being old?" you ask yourself.

It's true, 25 is young, I have so much ahead of me. On my birthday I was called "terrnita" which is a nice way of calling me "just a baby"

I have so much ahead of me, so many dreams to still be fulfilled. So much life to live, so much world to see, so much love to give (and receive). So much.

Right now the desires of my heart are simple and clear. I dream of writing a book. I dream of having a ministry, of serving my God to my full capacity. And above all, I want dream of being a mother and running my own household. (I'm still waiting for the husband part...good thing I've learned patience!)

I am perfect.

All in all, I think being 25 is perfect. I'm young enough to still get away with acting like a kid without embarrassing the girls. I'm young enough to do crazy and daring things without getting reprimanded. I'm old enough to make decisions and be in charge or things when it's called for. I'm old enough to finally be called an adult (that's still debatable)

Twenty-five and ALIVE (thank God for that)

Here's to another year, I think it's going to be a great one.

Life Is Good

Before I get started on the blog part, I have a confession to make.

I am not a good horse whisperer.

The day after my last post, Estrella died. It was really sad and awful-because I was home alone with the girls - and we all wanted to cry, but we were strong and didn't. So I guess I can cross that off my list of future jobs.

Regardless Life Is Good.

A while back, I "borrowed" a pair of socks from my mom. Cute "Life is good" socks with daisies. I liked them so much that she finally gave them to me.

The other day I grabbed a pair of socks from my drawer and scrambled to put them on. A few hours later, I looked down and saw "Life is good" staring up at me from my feet. It put a smile on my face, because it's true.

Sometimes I allow myself to get caught up in what is not good: the water pump is broken, Noe is fighting with Josue, I don't want to eat rice and beans, the horse is dead (you get the idea).

But the truth is: Life is good. It really is.

It's just that sometimes we have to dig a little deeper or look a little harder to see the rainbow through the clouds.

Last night I made a fire. It was probably the best I've ever made. It was so good, that we decided to throw some potatoes and roast them for dinner. They were exceptional potatoes. Life is good.

On Friday we went to a pueblo named Manzaragua to do an outreach. Over 120 kids came to see our kids sing, dance, act and present the Gospel. Then we got to break open pinatas filled with candy.
Life is good.

This morning I was able to talk to a college friend who I haven't talked to in over a month. She listened and encouraged me in so many ways.
Life is good.

God is good. Once we truly believe that and embrace it, we can believe and embrace the fact that life is good.
Being alive is good.
Living day-t0-day is good.

So yeah, our horse died, and the lock on the front gate doesn't work, and yesterday I had to walk nearly two miles to get vegetable oil, but usually the good outweighs the bad (because with the oil we made yummy banana bread).

Recap: God is good, therefore life is good.

Here’s the recap.

1. We received a horse as a gift.
2. We were surprised to find out she was pregnant.
3. The horse gave birth.
4. The man who took care of the horse left.
5. We realized that we needed to take care of the horse.

That’s where I come in.

I have always tended to avoid horses after an accident that occurred when I was younger. I will share the story so that you don’t think that it was some horribly tragic occurrence.

Some family friends of ours had a small farm. On the farm was a horse. Once I was riding the horse with the daughter of our friends. The saddle began to slide little by little, taking us along with it. (Picture two little girls still in the saddle, but now riding sideways).
Long story short, we fell off. She was caught, I was not. The story is more funny than traumatic, but I never had a fond feeling for horses.

Until now.

So our horse, we call her Estrella (which means star) and her baby Relampago (lightning) were running wild and not eating well and we basically sick and weak. It was proposed that we bring them closer to the house so we could tame them and keep an eye on them.

The boys were prohibited from getting close to the horses (you know how little boys are) and the girls were afraid.

Enter Miss Katie

For some reason, I feel a lot of sympathy for Estrella (I call her mama). She’s super thin and weak and still has to nurse her little baby.

Since her move to the house, I’ve taken to visiting her and bringing her water and treats. I guess I’m also in charge of untangling her (which happens a lot). Yesterday my head was way to close to her back hoofs for comfort, (she had gotten the rope wrapped around her two hind feet and was in danger of falling over) and all I could do was pray that she trusted me enough not to kick me.

So there’s the story of our horse. The veterinarian comes on Saturday and is going to give me official instructions for taking care of her. I’m kind of excited to be in charge of nursing her back to health.

And if it works, I can put a new job on my resume:

horse whisperer