Acompáñame a estar solo

La primera vez que escuche esta cancion estaba en el salón de mi amigo Isai Rojas; estuvimos laborando en un regalo navidadeño para mi cuñada. En aquel momento yo sentía un poco dolida por algo que pasaba en mí trabajo con Juconi. Al estar con Isai me hizo sentir mucha mas tranquila. Isai me enseñó un disco de "las mejores voces" y cuando escuche esta cancion sentí una calma muy grande. Tal vez la letra no sea la mas profunda que existe, pero en el momento fue un recuerdo que el amor nos sana, no importa lo que sean las heridas que traemos. Ahora extraño mí 'vida poblana,' los niños que me iluminaron con su luz, extraño los días cuando todos mís hechos fueron para servirle a Dios y a mis hermanos. Es difícil seguir adelante por varias razones, y a veces me desespero, pero creo con todo corazón que pueda yo hacer cualquier cosa que Dios me manda cumplir, yo puedo sobrevivir todo y estar feliz con tal de que confíe en mi Salvador y que sea humilde. Me da consuelo imaginar que El me diría estas palabras.

Voy a curarte el alma en duelo
Voy a dejarte como nuevo
Y todo va a pasar
Pronto verás el sol brillar

Tú más que nadie mereces ser feliz

Ya vas a ver como van sanando
Poco a poco tus heridas
Ya vas a ver como va
La misma vida a decantar la sal que sobra en el mar

Y aunque hayas sido un extranjero
hasta en tu propio país
Si yo te digo ¿cómo dices?
Tú aún dices ¿qué decís?
Y lloras de emoción oyendo un bandoneón

Y aunque parezcas despistado con ese caminar pausado
Conozco la razón que hace doler tu corazón
Por eso quise hacerte esta canción

Ya vas a ver como van sanando
Poco a poco tus heridas
Ya vas a ver como va
La misma vida a decantar la sal que sobra en el mar...

  

I do believe it's true that there are roads left in both of our shoes

So I was [most unnecessarily] freaking out about ASU's confirmation deadline this Friday. I had the uncomfortable feeling of being squelched in one of those 'Choose your own Adventure' books, although I could never choose, and tried to keep fingers in all of the pages so I could follow all the different endings down to the grisly conclusion. Sometimes in real life situations I do the same thing, I can't stick with one storyline and see it through. There are very few decisions I have made with clear confidence (my mission, deciding to go to BYU when I was 18). I always "wonder til it drives [me] mad, what would have followed if i had" [chosen another storyline].

Ergo, I'm struggling a little with knowing where I should go to grad school. I've had "crushes" on all the schools I've applied at one time, but who knows how I'd feel once I actually got to know them? They might turn out to be shallow, or hostile, or distressingly incompatible with me. I do know that I felt all squirmy and reluctant when I realized I had to make a decision about ASU so soon. At the moment I didn't have any other options, though, until today I got through to the beloved Cynthia at the OLLU Admissions office, who has so patiently and lovingly dealt with my neurosis and incessant questions during the application process.

I apologized for pestering her yet again, and she was full of awesomness and tenderness as she checked on my application and told me I had been...ADMITTED! And O what wondrous light and joy filled my soul! I became all pageant girl on the phone and Cynthia told me to call her when I got out to Texas so she could give me a tour of campus. I think I will bring her flowers. Seriously, this could maybe be a diaster but it sounds ideal to me right now. After all I've been through with the Virgencita, what could be more fitting than this? :) Also: going back to Texas. Something about that just rings with amazing.

Mother I made it up from the bruise on the floor of this prison

"And the dove came in to [me] in the evening, and lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt off."
--Genesis 8:11
The olive leaf said I had been admitted into the Downtown Phoenix Masters of Social Work Program. I'm still waiting to hear back from some other schools, but this news gave me heart!

There is enough sunshine there to cover a multitude of doubts. Also, I was born in Phoenix and I like the idea of going back to the start. And I have been aching so much for Mexico and Spanish, it would be nice to get that much closer to the frontera. Today at orientation two women were chatting in Spanish behind me and I felt overcome with this dizzying longing to be back in Puebla. Another day.

I keep thinking of Paul Simon's lyrics slightly altered: Take this child Lord from Phoenix Arizona, give her the wings to fly through harmony and she won't bother you no more...

Winter tucks her children in, her fragile china dolls

I always save up these gleaming stories to blog about and then they fade a little in my delay. Everyone said "no es un adios, es un hasta luego." I realized that even with my inadequacies my kindness stretched farther than I could have ever imagined and that is something I cling to in this coldness.

Some people I miss but I could see them opening up their wings enough to know that they will be all right. Others are weighing so heavy and sweet on my heart. Leobardo, Wincho, Luis, Silva, Ortiz who I pushed on the grocery cart my last day. I feel motherworried for them. I think sometimes people erroneously believe that God doesnt notice how much suffering, loneliness, and grief is rotting in the hearts of His children, but of course He knows and feels the weight of that more than we can comprehend, and for all that is broken, He has made arrangements to mend, heal, and glorify. I really believe that above all else. Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care.

I'm home to the Wood Between Worlds. I like to think of the applications I've sent out as birds of hope flying to sunny lands and when they come back to me hopefully they will bring an olive leaf telling me there is life somewhere else.

I fold in half so easily when I put myself in the picture of success

I have a week left here and I am trying to breathe everything in before my heart freezes. I try to arrange my thoughts delicately so I don't flood my mind with pain. I read the Conference talk "Joy in the Journey" and felt gratified that the prophet felt the same about "Our Town" that I did...it's hard to fully appreciate the moments when you're in the middle of them, even if you really want to, it's when you see the painting on the wall and realize it doesn't belong to you in the same way anymore that you understand how precious it all was.

What feels amazing is the successful interchange of monedas and climbing on the bus, people in the market who know me now, in Juconi, so many open arms, so many beaming faces. I just live here, I have a best friend and places to go and people who love me and it's all a world I carved out in the last 5 months. This was a dream I dreamed for myself and my life really is so young but it's felt so full to me. I have been so blessed. This is what I found in the sunlight that surrounds me. I will be so grateful for all of these days, and I will be grateful for a new adventure to pour my life into.











This is the largest statue of the Virgen that exists in the world (Chignahuapan, Puebla). She is amazingly, massively gorgeous! Her big toe is about the size of my torso. There is a little staircase and you can climb around in back of her...the wall behind her is covered with names and pleas scribbled on the wall, like the "eloquent" graffiti on the pearly gates. "Senora ruega por nosotros..." I wanted to read everything but Lupita wouldn't let me. I understood that they were fragments of soul. That was why I wanted to read. I know I had a vendetta against the Virgen on my mission, but I feel sort of like I'm friends with her now.

Bendita eres tu entre las mujeres...

Adam and Eve are huddled in the folds of the Virgen's skirt...

...hiding from him...



The beloved Hermano Sergio

With Lupita Sunday morning by the waterfalls

Isai dancing with his little cousin at Ilan's pachanga

In Mexico City con mi chilangito





Sweet note from one of the Casa Juconi boys. I love being Recher almost as much as I love being Morena. :)



In so many churches the Lord is huddled in a coffin like this, all weak and broken. I don't like to think of Him that way, I think we're supposed to remember He left us gazing up into Heaven.

This is part of a trail we climb to visit one of the families in TRACA. I don't want to forget.

Chignahuapan and the mist covered mountains















This Wincho and he has my heart

Wincho's front yard



Gaby helping her father spell something

Isai helping me with my GOTH









Isai's parents getting their dance on











Isai's "tios inicuos" who offered me tequila and were spectacularly good company




Going to the mountain of the Lord in Mexico City



I took this from the back of the motorcycle going about 90 mph









Waiting for the bus at the end of temple day































I love it here.