What do I say after a long hiatus? Hello. Yeah, I’m doing fine. Wish you were here. It’s hard to get communication going after so much time away. It feels funny, a bit forced. But here I am with an afternoon that seems less rushed, and I don’t want to waste it by only doing lesson plans in advance. I want to say something although I’m not sure what that is.

The other day I was sitting in my classroom, grading papers. I could hear a lively discussion in Spanish taking place at the pila (cement sink/scrubbing table for washing clothes). I love these Dona Martha/Ellie moments. Dona Martha is a seventy-something woman with plenty of hugs and long, curly hair to make her both beautiful and attractive. Ellie is ten years old and full of tomboyish pride.

I remember when Dona Martha first came here. It was right after Ellie moved in with our neighbor, Maestra Sandra. Ellie was in need of some extra care, and Don Adan, Dona Martha’s husband, was here for medical treatments. Although quite an odd pair, we were all happy when we saw the way they walked in arm in arm after only a few days. They needed each other.

Listening to them banter while washing their clothes gives me a warm feeling all over, like things really aren’t so bad off in the world. That’s why when I heard their animated conversation the other day I couldn’t help but pay attention. You have to know that Dona Martha is not an Adventist but is living at a very Adventist institution, and you have to know that the kids here are well versed in the basics of Adventist theology. Ellie was trying to convince Dona Martha that the Sabbath is Saturday…and she was getting more and more frustrated by the minute. I had been wondering how Dona Martha had been perceiving the many worship talks she’s sat through over the past month. Well, she is not about to alter her beliefs although Ellie made a valiant effort. I heard the word “commandments” come up and “Bible.” Then, I heard Ellie say, “But I’m reverent!”

My door was wide open, so it’s not as though they didn’t know I was there. I kept right on listening. All of a sudden, Ellie ran into my classroom and took a seat in my rocking chair. “Isn’t it true that the Bible says the Sabbath is the seventh-day?” she asked me. She was riled up. “Yes,” I told her. “But Dona is an old woman and has believed that Sunday is the Sabbath for so long that you can’t expect her to change in a day.” Ellie gave me a slight smile of recognition and said with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m exhausted!”

What a life I’m living. I like it mostly, especially when things go well. I like it when my students say something profound or funny. The youngest, a girl, is seven. During a discussion about the differences between John McCain and Barak Obama, she said, fingers bent in quotation marks, “One is for peace, and the other is for peace.” For the last part, she moved her fingers into the universal sign of peace. Whatever your political persuasion, you can be amazed at the insight of a second grader, I’m sure.

It would be nice, I think, if all of life was just the snapshots of happiness instead of the long, drawn out days of uncertainty and stress. There has been a lot of stress in my life lately. Not enough time to get done all the things that I want to but enough time to realize all that I can’t get done. My school for three children consumes my thoughts and conversations. I like it very much, the interaction, the use of my imagination, the possibility to form their worldviews. But I just can’t figure out how to cook the beans and keep the floor clean while my mind is spinning with ideas, and there are papers to grade.

And then there’s the world going belly up. Not sure what to do about that. How can one be in the world but not of it? How can one keep plugging along, knowing that things may get nasty soon, but continue to wait in hope? What do we do in this moment when we don’t know if tomorrow will be the same or disastrously different? I want the baby but am not so sure about the laboring part. The world is groaning. Creation is groaning. Be born already.

So, this is my life.