Thoughts – Page 2 – The Oaxacaborn Blog

It was too much, yesterday, this sense of being so far away. I went out with Aveline, out to air-conditioned shops and pushed her around in her stroller while I looked at pretty things. And everywhere I walked, I saw friends shopping and laughing together. And I walked around, alone.

I felt small and very far away from home.

Later that night, I cried. I try not to, I really do. But sometimes, when everyone you know is either 46 hours to the west or 25 hours to the north, you just can’t help feeling a little sad.

Image: Day Three (Friendship) of the August Photo Challenge.

Life in Photos, Poetry & Words

God led us to this oasis (August Photo Challenge: Day 1)

August 1, 2011March 22, 2014 Gina @ Oaxacaborn

It’s AUGUST. I don’t know how something like that could have happened. Funny, the chatter today about Fall being just around the corner. It sure doesn’t feel that way here. The crickets’ dusk song hasn’t slowed; one chirp blends into the next with scarcely any time at all elapsed in between. The humid air is thick and unforgiving, holding up so much water it’s a wonder the clouds don’t come crashing down around our feet. My toenails are brightly painted orange – neon, not autumnal; more like sherbet than like maple leaves. The inside of the car is scorching, and the seats burn our summer legs as we climb in.

This is not the crunchy and dry California summer. This is not the verdant green, sweatshirt-clad Midwest summer. But this is our summer. Our summer, and we are peaceful. God led us to this oasis, this palm-tree laden land where our table is filled with food, where the pool is clean and refreshing and ours to enjoy, where the row of windows in the living room look out over roads and into the sky, and not into other windows.

Sometimes, it’s hard to see that this is an oasis. Our families are thousands of miles away. I do not have friends here to laugh with, friends to share a summer afternoon with. I get lost trying to find simple places like the post office. The street signs are all unfamiliar. It is hard, sometimes. Hard to be so far away from what used to be home.

But mostly, somehow, I am peaceful.

God saw what was going on with Israel. God understood. (Exodus 2:25 MSG)

Image: Day One (Self Portrait) of the August Photo Challenge.

Poetry & Words

Together in the Morning Light: My Waking Thoughts on Life with my Two Loves

July 26, 2011March 22, 2014 Gina @ Oaxacaborn

blue Moroccan lantern with green and black canvas in background

purple yarn with wood grain table in background

vintage corticelli silk thread / belding richardson button hole twist

wooden kitchen chair with white IKEA RITVA cushion and IKEA RENS sheepskin

We wake up too early, to the uneven rhythm of traffic slowing and starting again as a multicolored ribbon of cars passes in waves through the toll booth. Aveline stirs and fusses, increasing in volume until the sputtering grunts grow into a jarring cry. She presses her teary face against the slats of the crib, gripping tightly with dimpled hands as she wobbles her way into a kneeling position.

I sit up, glancing upward at the cacophonous din of pigeons who’ve taken up unwanted residence in an opening in the eaves. The water pipes groan and heave, and I hear the splash of hot water making its way through the shower head in the adjoining room as Josiah prepares for the day. I rub my eyes, reach out my arms and smile through a tired fog as Aveline’s fingers quickly grab onto me. I pick her up and pull her close. She buries her warm face in my shoulder and breathes a sigh, kicking her legs in happiness.

I carry her into the living room, letting my eyes truly see all the colors and light and beauty the new day holds. The white light enveloping the chair in the corner. The bright hues of the yarn and thread on the table. The hint of red in Aveline’s hair. Give me strength for the day, Lord, I quietly pray. Thank you for life. I change Aveline’s diaper, tossing her green pajamas into the laundry basket, smiling to myself at the sight of the heap of tiny, rumpled clothes. I pull a bright yellow mod dress off a hanger, and slip it over her strawberry blond head. The sixties-esque daisies on the dress make me smile.

Josiah walks into the kitchen, his wet hair hanging in curls. He reaches for Aveline, holding her in one arm while he measures out coffee grounds. My heart nearly overflows. My two loves, sleepy-headed and happy, together in the kitchen in the morning light. She’s learning how to make coffee, he says, and she turns around to look at me, grinning from ear to ear.

Later, she sits on his lap while he works on the iPhone game he is creating. I sit across the room, letting the bold flavors of my coffee curl around my tongue. I stare into the steaming liquid. Coffee and chocolate, I think to myself. Exactly the color of his eyes.

I read Genesis, and Jacob’s blessing speaks to me.

The God before whom walked
my fathers Abraham and Isaac,
The God who has been my shepherd
all my life long to this very day,
The Angel who delivered me from every evil,
Bless the boys.
May my name be echoed in their lives,
and the names of Abraham and Isaac, my fathers,
And may they grow…

Inspiration

One of my Very Favorite Songs from the New Josh Garrels Album

July 6, 2011March 22, 2014 Gina @ Oaxacaborn

If you haven’t downloaded Josh Garrels’ brand-new (FREE!) album “Love & War”, what are you waiting for?!

“Farther Along” – Josh Garrels

“Farther along we’ll know all about it
Farther along we’ll understand why
Cheer up my brothers, live in the sunshine
We’ll understand this, all by and by…

…So much more to life than we’ve been told
It’s full of beauty that will unfold
And shine like you struck gold my wayward son
That deadweight burden weighs a ton
Go down into the river and let it run
And wash away all the things you’ve done
Forgiveness alright…”

Poetry & Words

sleep

May 21, 2011March 22, 2014 Gina @ Oaxacaborn

the dishwasher surges and pauses, a mechanical ode to the ocean’s pulsing tide. my spoon scoops up the last bit of milk off the bottom of my cobalt cereal bowl. behind me, i hear josiah laugh and talk into the headset as the xbox goes beepbopboopbeep.

baby fast asleep on pink fleece blanket

aveline is asleep. my eyes feel like sandpaper. her sleeping moments have been scarce, these last few days. i flip my just-washed hair back over my shoulder, and a few drops of water drip off onto the pink fabric of my pajama pants. i reach for my water glass and drink deeply. i sigh, satisfied.

my eyes can not stay open much longer. i hear the click of the tv behind my turning off, and hear josiah’s footsteps across the grey carpeted floor. i rub my eyes. sleep will come soon.

oh life, you are beautiful.

Inspiration

everything is going to be alright

April 28, 2011March 22, 2014 Gina @ Oaxacaborn

how great is this?! i laughed, but it’s so true.

image via rarrar press/rebecca ann rakstad on flickr

Poetry & Words

this wild life

April 19, 2011March 22, 2014 Gina @ Oaxacaborn

black and white photo of iced coffee in mason jar with straw

i’ve taken to drinking an iced coffee every afternoon. i’m relying on the placebo effect, since it’s all decaf these days. but caffeine or not, there is just something so satisfying about coffee.

last week was a bit on the rough side. the wee one suddenly decided she preferred the newborn schedule of waking up every three hours at night. she also decided there was no need to nap during the day. by the time the weekend rolled around, i was ready to flop myself down on the floor and sleep for days. and glory be, on sunday afternoon i actually fell asleep on the sunlit bed, with josiah next to me surfing the interwebs, and aveline snoozing peacefully in her crib. when i woke up two hours later, i was utterly confused at the foreign feeling of restfulness, but deliriously happy.

it’s amazing what a little sleep can do.

and now, it’s tuesday afternoon and she’s napping. napping, people!! (in this new world of parenthood, a baby napping is an epic joy — something to be celebrated. i’ve celebrated by showering and eating a proper lunch.)

and you know? this new life is beautiful. even the chaos is beautiful, because it’s not a chaos of strife or contention. no, it’s a beautiful chaos. like the lapping waves of the ocean, it’s constant motion; changing always yet the sound is a steady rhythm. the scattered blankets and washcloths and teething toys on the floor of the living room are like the stones and shells scattered across a sandy beach. there is no precision, but it’s all beauty. there is high tide and there is low tide, there is the scorching high noon sun and there is the charcoal darkness of the new moon. but it’s life, it’s all life, pulsating with love and punctuated laughter.

and we are sitting here, joy-filled, holding our precious baby and reveling in the spray of the ocean air. our hair is wild with the wind and the salt, our eyes looking onward, looking forward, our hearts firmly planted in joy and hope and peace.

Life in Photos

what aveline’s room does not look like…yet

March 15, 2011March 22, 2014 Gina @ Oaxacaborn

aveline’s room looks absolutely nothing like this at present. the stars are all in a taped-shut box somewhere in the living room. the art piece is wrapped in cardboard and is leaning up against the dining room table. the crib is actually in aveline’s room, but is sans mattress. (hello, moving company? just wondering where exactly you ended up delivering that mattress? thanks.) the lovely white dresser is a brand-new purchase, but like most IKEA items, it came in a package the size of a cereal box. and since the cordless drill may or may not be wherever the mattress ended up, assembling the dresser is going to be quite interesting.

meanwhile, in aveline’s room, there are stacks of flattened boxes. there are unflattened video game console boxes. there’s a shelf of bulk food. there are half-opened industrial size ziplocs holding every size of baby clothes except for the size she’s in right now (the proper size was finally uncovered. half now reside in a pretty green laundry basket. the other half — the clean half — are living in an open box). but hey, the changing table is alive and well, fully stocked with [clean] diapers and wipes. i mean, ya gotta have your priorities.

the house is slowly coming together. it looks more beautiful with every unpacked box. ordinarily the snail’s pace of the unpacking would be driving me wild, but there’s something about looking into the eyes of a smiling cooing baby — a baby we prayed for — that really puts things in perspective. it’s okay if the boxes are being unpacked slowly. it’s much more important to treasure every moment of this. and so here i am, right now in this moment, holding an arm-waving, hiccuping, wide-eyed, refusing-to-nap baby. nothing’s getting checked off my to-do list. but that’s so much more than ok.

This job has been given to me to do. Therefore, it is a gift. Therefore, it is a privilege. Therefore, it is an offering I may make to God. Therefore, it is to be done gladly, if it is done for Him. Here, not somewhere else, I may learn God’s way. In this job, not in some other, God looks for faithfulness. -Elisabeth Elliot

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