grateful.

mangoes

BSF and my discussion group

a church home

budding friendships

personal growth (oh the personal growth…)

a husband that makes me laugh

London’s laugh - and his sweet, sweet voice too

squishy, sticky fingers that love to pull out hair

big blue eyes that smile

Dr. Cora, Super Cora, Airplane Cora…

Cora’s “feel better” hugs

“Joshua fought the battle of Jericho…”

bedtime hugs / kisses from big sister to little brother

space in my week - and reason - to write

curiosity

minimalism, essentialism…

sunshine

conversations that involve more listening and less talking (on my part)

braving new

cozying up to familiar

the baby carrier

my Portuguese teacher

days I can use our (one and only) car

shady parks

long weekends

peace that is truly beyond understanding

increasing trust

Christmas time… Jesus, music, decorations… all of it.

the DuoLingo app

Paulista Ave people watching

friendly neighbors with daughters old enough to baby-sit

constant opportunity / obligation to learn

food trucks in parking lots

command strips (thus far, the only way we’re able to decorate our concrete walls)

recipes that don’t ask for things I can’t find here

understanding the value in staying home

the power of choice

slow days at home

pancakes on Saturday morning (topped with honey because, syrup?)

Greg’s co-workers… those in KC that restock our peanut butter via business trips and those in Sao Paulo who willingly serve as our personal assistants / translators.

my God… so great, so strong, so mighty… there is NOTHING He cannot do

jeans that fit and shirts without holes (oh the joys of baby-having… and shopping in a new country)

the one night every week that I don’t have to do the dishes

the potential of new habits

homemade popcorn

panettone

a baby that ignores the Christmas tree

more time between nursing sessions

a 3 yr old imagination that turns a closet into a doctor’s office

the humbling experience of not being a native speaker

grace that triumphs over all

the beach

The highly anticipated first weekend exodus to the beach!

(insert deeply-satisfying exhale here)

The week before friends warned us about the massive mosquitos that live near the beaches. Their bites swell and bleed SO BRING SPRAY.

That night I had a nightmare about 4 foot tall mosquitos chasing us down streets (ei: running after us on flamingo-like legs).

Thankfully, they were not actually 4 feet tall and made only one appearance - which we experienced within the safety of windows / walls. Win.

But I digress.

We left Friday evening amidst rain and oh-so-many friends heading out of town with us...

Three hours later we arrived in Boiçucanga and transferred sleepy kids into bed.

Seven hours after that, we woke to a no-shower-necessary, salty, sandy kind of day.

It was perfection.

Morning discoveries: Waves and oh-so-much-water... a bit too much perhaps. Cora had zero interest in any part of her body touching any part of those waves. But sand castles are totally her jam. London was far more willing to dabble in the unfamiliar, but sand proved sadly disappointing to his taste buds.

A quick lunch and a long nap preceded the afternoon outing... which consisted mostly of more sleep for the littlest and more sand for his sister. Like a true mid-western American, Cora's pretend play involved "trains" (blocks) getting stuck in "snow" (sand) :)

Pizza paired with this view wrapped the day.

By Sunday morning London had developed a terrible cough and his voice was increasingly hoarse. Ordinarily, this would (most likely) not cause an abrupt end to a delightful weekend. It just so happens though, that London had swallowed a small rubber band on Friday evening before we left (the kind we use for Cora's ponytails). We had figured it would "pass" and went on with the weekend. The cough though caused all sorts of what-ifs to spring forth:

Did it get stuck in his esophagus? wrapped around his vocal cords? Is that even possible? I'm sure it is. 

We packed our bags and headed home, uncomfortably... because this heart of mine could only handle about 20 minutes of listening to London's sweet cry before I squished myself into the 6-inch gap between carseats for the remainder of the ride... which was only 2 hours thanks to Sunday traffic and a highly motivated father.

X-rays and tests and waiting rooms, 4.5 hours of them, revealed only that our son was getting a cold.

Because, of course.

Next time, we stay for day 2 :)

a sacrifice of thanksgiving

Through quiet morning minutes, I am becoming acquainted with the transforming sacrifice of thanksgiving.

I had heard the phrase, read the verses. But I had not understood, truly, the significance. the discipline required. the trust implied.

I will offer to You the sacrifice of thanksgiving and call on the name of the LORD.
Psalm 116:17

O LORD, in the morning You hear my voice;
in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for You and watch.
Psalm 5:3

But as for me, I will look to the LORD;
I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me.
Micah 7:7

Thank you: two simple words that aren’t hard to say… until it doesn’t feel natural. until it doesn’t feel warranted. until those two little words seem to directly oppose both the situation and emotions that surround us.

Thank you, for this (insert challenge here)? No.

Yet this, this is where simple becomes sacrifice.

In my quiet morning minutes, I am learning to prepare my sacrifice. I reflect on the difficult things. I thank God for them.

Oftentimes, I ask for His help in doing so sincerely.

And then I watch. I wait for Him to work.

Because my thank you means that I trust He will.