On Coming Home...

The process of coming home can be disorienting.  Pleasant, totally worthwhile, and yet...there is always that step partway home where I start to wonder if I truly belong anywhere.

Like in Houston, for example.  I stopped to sit for a while on a bench in a corridor, and as I sat there, I noticed in the crowds moving in front of me, Spanish speakers walking down the path to my right, English speakers moving to my left.  And for a second I felt like I was sitting right smack dab in the middle on a bright yellow painted line.

I was reminded of the scene from Castaway where Tom Hanks, after being stranded on the island, begins his journey home.  Freshly bathed, clean-shaven, sitting on the airplane he looked completely lost.  Out of place.  Alone.

I was reminded again of the dolphin going back and forth between the sea and the air.  Seamlessly, really.  Down for a while, up for a breath of air.  Down for a while, up for a breath of air...

And I thought to myself, maybe it is possible to live a life made in between.  Life passing between the foam at the surface, splashing back and forth among the waves.

And perhaps part of that involves living life more open handed.  Not clinging or forcing things to fit within a single mold.  Taking what is there for the moment and, when that moment is past, letting go...

Like balancing a bubble in your hand--you can admire the rainbow swirls, get lost in its fragility and beauty, but it must be done with the understanding that the bubble will, at some point, pop.  That's not to say its popping is so terrible...it is simply the nature of things.  One single bubble is not meant to last forever.  And if I learn to value it as it is, without expecting it to be more long-lasting than its nature has ensured that it would be, then I can accept it happily and, when it is gone, simply revel in what it was to me--without getting lost in the regret that it had not managed to become something more.

Going away from home and coming back again makes me aware again of all life's changes.  Of life's unpredictability.  That we are all changing.

Home needs to be transitory, in light of all of this.  I am incredibly thankful I have this home to come back to...my family, friends...but it is hard to cling when life is changing.   I am noticing a shift in my heart attitude toward all of this.  Maybe it is possible to belong to two places at once.  Maybe with the ephemeral nature of life means we make home wherever it comes.  That home is with people, wherever we happen to be...

Maybe home can have a more transitory nature. 

After all, if we interviewed a dolphin, I'm not sure he would be able to choose one place over another as his "real" home.  If he did, he would be conflicted, always clinging and striving for something more.  Every time he reaches for air, he would be resisting...or every time he fell back into the water, he would be discouraged.

I don't think a dolphin lives life so conflicted.  I think they simply accept their fate and take what life is offering them--an opportunity to carve a place and live in both.  To let both places take up equal space in them...equal belonging.  Why spend the time working out which place is "truly" home?

Life is unsettled, unpredictable, and changing...to cling to one aspect, to ask something transitory to be something long-lasting...

It doesn't work, will always result  in failure,

It's asking something to move against its very nature.

So maybe I'll take a deep breath and prepare myself to glide more fluidly in between...

Taking what arises as it arises in each place...

Not complaining or bemoaning,

Simply trusting that what is there will be again.

A transitory blessing.

To be enjoyed now, not hoarded to try to save for later.

To trust that now, wherever it goes will lead to more blessing--that this isn't the last of God's resources.  He isn't shaking the last from the cereal box in order to find enough to pass on to me. 

There is more where this came from, and in light of that, there is no need to cling.

I can let it go and appreciate both worlds.  I can be thankful for what is happening and learn to let it be.

And maybe somewhere in all of that, I'll find the secret to true serenity...

In Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand...

To have eyes to see what is long-lasting, and the proper response to all that is transitory.

To sit on a rock and let all the rest, both good and bad, swirl around in a colorful spiral--there for the enjoying, the enduring--there, but for the moment...

Decisions, Decisions...

Only three more days before the end of first semester.  Only four more days until I'll be leaving town to begin my journey home.  Four hour bus ride to the capital.  One night in a hotel.  And then to the airport to board my flight to the United States...

We've had Christmas parties and are gearing up for finals.  Just a few more days and the semester will be over...

And with that comes the time to start thinking about decisions.  What to do next year...

I thought I was riding the fence.  I thought I was exploring other options.  Then I found myself in the office asking questions about contracts and what is required for signing on for another year...kind of like, while my mind is exploring options, my body has simply decided to continue moving forward without me.  Kind of surprised me.  Kind of gave me deja vu or what happened in June when I came here for a visit and ended up with a job...like it's just meant to happen and all I have to do is follow along. 

I haven't made any official decision...I was just surprised by my actions when I didn't think I knew what I planned on doing at all. 

Christmas lights...

Christmas lights can be glaring sometimes...

There's all the bustle in the stores
The excitement and busyness of all the preparations...

And sometimes that merriment can be inviting.
Sometimes it is something to be gloried in, looked forward to...

But then there are times when the light is glaring

Times when you just want to shield your eyes

It's too much,
too soon

And you're just not ready to see all the light

Families get together for the holiday season...
There is the consistency of families getting together
the same traditions that have been followed for a very long time...

Sometimes there is security in the celebration
At other times it's a reminder of the changes that have gone by...

Chairs that are empty
or replaced by someone new
what was once brand-new now fading
or replaced by something else altogether...
always changing.

And maybe that's the point of Christmas.
All of this is fading away
So Christ came to bring something new and unfading...
something eternal that cannot be lost.

And in light of all of that, the light is inviting.

Other things are fading, but the light is not lost.
People come and go, but their lives are not lost...

There is a teacher I worked with several years ago who I learned this week is dying of cancer.
He was sent home from the hospital several days ago with the verdict of two more weeks.

Two more weeks.

That is one week shying of seeing one more Christmas.

I have found myself thinking this week of what might be going through his head during this time:

Seeing other people hustling and bustling to prepare the presents.
The music in the stores, the lights on the houses,
all of the general excitement of Christmas

and he is putting his affairs in order and preparing for his final journey home.

Perhaps looking back on the life he has lived.
Two weeks is not enough time to go back and resolve all loose ends, though he could certainly try
And certainly all those years of life cannot be re-lived
So it might be a matter of reflection
What went well, what did not...
And then reaching a point where all he can say is, "God, it is what it is..."

This teacher wasn't a really close friend, but I worked with him for two years
I know the general story of his life
I sat next to him on our way to conference
For three hours of conversation

And I know bits and pieces of what his life has been since then

I only know enough to know it's been rough around the edges...

And now I can't shake the thought of one man this Christmas season preparing to go home.

Sobering.

And as I thought on it this morning, I realized I need to lean on mercy more than judgment
In those situations where I can choose anger or understanding
Perhaps it would be better to choose to understand
To respond out of love instead of clinging to my rights
Knowing that, in the long run, all will be right...
That is the choice I will have wanted to make
When the day comes where I find myself getting ready
as he is now.

I don't think I will regret showing mercy, even if that mercy is disregarded at the time.

On a different note, we are down to our last week of school before break.  The elementary students had their Christmas program last week, and the secondary students are preparing for finals.  We have our staff Christmas party this weekend.  And everybody is scrambling to do what we need to do to finish up the semester and then (for most of us) prepare to go home for a little reprieve.

Changes

This last week has brought a lot of changes.  I have taken on new responsibilities at work, stepping into the role of literacy coach/tutor in addition to teaching the Spanish classes.  I really enjoy meeting with the teachers and having the chance to focus on students one-on-one. 

Today in Spanish we had a guest speaker visit to speak with my high school classes about the Guatemalan civil war.  This war didn't happen all that long ago, ending in the 1990s, so the speaker was able to combine his knowledge of Guatemala history with his own personal experiences of the conflict.

I think I was pretty nervous about the guest speaker...I'm not used to organizing something at this level (combining my classes, getting them excused from their other electives, meeting with the speaker beforehand and making all the arrangements for his arrival).  It was definitely outside my comfort zone.  My worry even showed up in my sleep last night...I dreamed that my students were rude to the guest speaker so he decided not to speak about the civil war after all.  Instead, he showed a super-violent movie about apartheid in South Africa, and all I could think about was whether the content of that film was going to get me into trouble with parents or administration.  :-)

Needless to say, my fears were unfounded.  Everything went smoothly.  The students were interested.  The guest speaker was very interesting, and other students and staff joined us for parts of his lecture as their schedules allowed. 

The only odd part was that, towards the beginning, we had a small tremor.  Usually I don't even notice them, but this time I was sitting down.  For some reason they are more noticeable when sitting in a chair.  As I felt myself sway back and forth and back and forth again, I heard some muffled laughter from the students, but other than that, the discussion moved on.  I thought it lasted an unusually long time, and I found out later some of the classes had gone into "earthquake drill" mode.  We just continued with the lecture (though I did watch the walls for a few seconds, wondering if the tremors would get any stronger).