lately.ramblings.

I have literal “warm fuzzies” right now as I sit here and type on the sofa, ending the day. Nano’s little warm puppy body is sleeping on my belly. His head is resting on my right hand—don’t know how he could be the least bit comfortable as my hand constantly moves in order to type. Yet, he stays. He grunts every once in awhile, too. I think my soul is smiling.

So, I spoke too soon (in reference to our continuing good health in the last post) and did indeed get sick this week… Think I am over the worst of it; hopefully it will clear up completely in a couple days. Just had a case of a tortuously scratchy throat, a head as heavy as a bowling ball and very congested, and a nose that would not stop running… fun stuff like that, you know. (The overall BEST part of getting sick? Not being able to taste a thing. Sandra made us our favorite soup Wednesday night—it felt like water running down my throat. I almost cried.)

Despite the miserable symptoms and even a few not-so-restful nights, I have been having a wonderful week. So wonderful, in fact, that I’ve realized I’m kind of actually over the homesick phase that happened around the 2.5 – 3 month point and now feel this odd sense of, I live here. This feels like home. And I don’t really want to leave in a month. I don’t.

I made a commitment to myself last week that I would finish strong. I asked Jesus to place in my daily Sevilla life opportunities to make my last moments here the most memorable ones. The truth is though, He is always giving us those opportunities to live daily life more meaningfully. We just have to get up and snatch ‘em. Our home and way of life in Sevilla has become so natural to us. We know how to get around our neighborhood like we’ve lived here for years. I used to feel so awkward at big-city living but now I’m pretty sure I could take the metro to my job in my sleep. We’ve become regular friends with the young frutería woman down the street, the sweet old couple 2 floors beneath us, the Nigerian man who sells Kleenex on the bridge, the homeless Spaniard who sits in the street on our way to the school, and the Hungarian woman who works in the coffee shop who helps me with my Spanish. What I’m trying to say is that the newness of living in Spain wore off awhile ago, and instead of these last few weeks dwindling down to Oh, hurry up and get here December 15^th!, it is my heart’s desire to make these last days count. I want to have those kind of moments and interactions with people that make my heart swell and explode in thankfulness to God for this life I get to live so briefly.

Week 12 held many of these heart-swell moments I speak of. They’re the little things.

Like getting to assist the doctor caring for an old man’s pretty infected toenail at La Caridad.

Like seeing Rafa’s (the doctor) face beam when he realizes I finally understand perfectly what he is trying to teach me about Sintrom (the Spanish equivalent of the anticoagulant medication we know as Warfarin).

Like painting nails with the 18-year old Marta, one of the girls I tutor in English. (She laughed when I told her I wanted all different colored-nails because that’s what Zach likes best.)

Like leaving the apartment of the Peña family, all of them gathered at the door to say Goodbye over and over to me after a tutoring hour with the kids. Oh how I’ve been spoiled with that family.

Like watching Sandra reminisce upon showing us a bunch of old photos of her and her family through the years. We talk about family and how it’s like the best, most important thing.

Like getting our friend John (the man on the bridge) to tell us about his wife and kid, and hearing about his dream to make a better life for them all in the US someday.

And like dancing in the living room with Zachary, trying to polish our flamenco moves for the “recital” in a few weeks but only tripping over feet and getting dizzy and doubling over in laughter at how silly we must look.

And I reread everything I’ve just typed and think, you know these are just everyday normal things. Nothing crazy or life-changing.  But they’re gifts, all of them. I had to make the choice to see them as such. Alas, this post has turned into another cheesy reflection just like my last one was, and I feel kind of dumb. I’m such a sap, lately. Living my first married days out in Spain has probably made me so. But probably also the fact that I feel like I’ve grown so much closer to God through the hearts of other people.

     He is everywhere. In the Christian. In the non-Christian. In the beauty of nature. But also among the messy city streets. I see Him in the times of plenty. And also He is present in these times of economic hardship for the Spanish people. Has been really eye-opening to live here, and it’s just my prayer that Zach and I can continue to be moved by a God who is everywhere, who dwells in the heart of humanity, in all people whether they are at the end of themselves or  have finally come to understand how to live an abundant life in Him.

What about those in the middle? Yeah, He is especially there. 

Take heart,

Kristen

p.s. Mom and Dad Menchaca/Borchardt: the Nov 14 General Strike day throughout Spain was fine and we are okay. There were a bunch of shouting people in the streets with signs, and they vandalized some ATM machines and other things in the Center and there was trash everywhere, but it didn't get too heated like I heard it did in Madrid. Decided not to tell you about the country's strike day until after it happened and not before:) love you!! xoxo