family pictures in Mexico











more to come.

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paper hearts

Earlier I was writing an entirely different post than this, but then I had to stop and sleep because I was tired and had no idea where I was going with it...and now I've lost my train of thought, and really have not much more to say on the matter. I mean, I still don't know exactly what I think about this whole predestination thing. I mean, I know what I ought to believe about it, but it's also really confusing and I'm not sure I understand it...I mean, at least not completely. I still have the post (which I never finished) saved as a draft. SO as soon as I work up the courage to go down that road again...well I will finish up and post it. For now I'm just going to ponder other matters. Ok so its my first week back at school and I am already screwing up all over the place. It's something I keep realizing. Just because I went to Mexico on a mission trip for the summer doesn't mean I'm some saint now who is going to be really good at everything who suddenl...
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finding the right words...

So I know I have been updating seven times a day for the past couple days, but I figure I am updating on everything that happened in Mexico and I do owe you guys that. Besides being home from Mexico has been nothing short of boring. I have nothing else to do. There is so much about my last few weeks in Mexico I could still talk about. This entry will be kind of short. This is just about talking to the kids this summer and what I learned from my conversations with them. Sometimes we try to talk people because we want to help them. Sometimes we go into the conversation thinking we can help them. Thinking that we can say or do something that will change their attitude, or their situation. Sometimes this is our goal. we go into a conversation with a specific thing we want to say, or a certain point we want to get across, all in the hopes that they will see things our way. We come across as preaching, and when we come across as preachy its because that is usually what we are being. What we ...
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to try again; this time write what you know.

I hug you tightly, I can hear a smile form, as your snicker becomes a laugh. I promised I wouldn't cry. but I feel warm tears coming so I hold them back. Your smile is lovely and sweet, a mischievous grin quite vibrant and fleet. Scrawny little arms envelop my waist, drops spill into my mouth and it's salty at the taste. So young and so small. you try to make yourself as tall- as me. as you press your callous toes into the shifting pebbles on the street. I marvel at how the hot cement does not burn such tiny little feet. Milk white teeth against a chestnut brown face. We are standing in such a scorching heat, for such a happy place. You tickle me and leap away, giggling and taunting I know this game, and now this memory is haunting. you want me to chase you around the cancha, dodging through the palm branches, hiding amongst the leaves, you run your fastest and i kneel over taking advantage of every precious breeze. You smile widely and your dark eyes glisten. I try not to list...
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