And yet, Bolivia has embraced me and hasn't let go. Housemates that throw me in the kiddie pool (twice, in one evening!), church friends at bilingual Hillsong concerts, freezing cold showers after a hot, dusty day in el campo, holding babies with deep brown eyes, homemade mango ice cream, mango juice, mango marmalade...I'm on a serious mango kick right now. They are practically leaping from the trees into my open mouth.
In all seriousness though, I don't know how I'm going to leave. I'm used to living here and in a month I won't be here at all. It gives one a desperate "must do everything and love everyone all the time" feeling. Don't want to leave any regrets. But I'm thankful that I don't want to leave because if all I did was want to go home, I'd have missed out on something real good here. And the little ache at the thought of leaving means that I did some living.
I know that God and I chose the exactly perfect amount of time to be here, whether it seems like it or not when the time comes to say "chao." Not only the perfect amount of time, but in the perfect place, circled for me. It's so clear that although I didn't know where I was going until what seemed like the last minute to me, God has truly been preparing me for this trip my whole life. For starters, by giving me a Momma that raised a little world traveler (and yet a Momma's girl at the same time...how did she do it? :] ).
I wrote this on her FB wall the other day but it's worth repeating on the interwebs:
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