We are now day 10 into our arrival back to the States.
We have an wonderful apartment that seems gigantic compared to our Spanish piso even though here it's only a 1 bedroom. Our town, while pretty in one sense, doesn't even measure close to the beauty of the plateaus that once were gracing the Spanish skyline we viewed daily.
I go outside our apartment and no courtyard awaits me with eager kids greeting me in their second language (my first), rollerblading, and rushing toward Carson with squealing delight.
I can't walk to the nearest grocery store anymore. I must get in my car and drive the ten minutes journey down the road. Grocery stores as well are completely overwhelming. Sometimes I am thrilled at the plentiful options of healthy foods but all the while wondering how fresh and how many preservatives are hidden behind my purchases.
I dream about our Spanish lives each night. My students are vivid in my dreams, and I wake up with a brief smile that they are still so crystal clear in my memories but am quickly saddened as I realize how far away I am from them.
I love our family time. Seeing my sister frequently, texting my family members, spending time with my niece and nephew, brother-in-laws & sister-in-laws, parents & grandparents. If I only I could transplant the people here to our home there...
My heart is not the same now. It has been remolded by our ministry and love for Spain. Being here, I see how truly incomplete I feel and have even more conformation that Spain is God's desire for us for the future.
I must look at this time as a platform of transition, one ordained by God to enable to be better servants to Spaniards in the future. At this moment, I don't understand this hiatus. Why do we have to do this? But I trust our ever-knowing, ever-loving Heavenly Father and know that one day we will understand this season and rejoice in it.
