Bodily fluids

I forgot to mention that on the bus ride home from Chinauta, J fell asleep and peed... on my lap. About two hours later we were finally home and he was bathed and in bed so I could shower.
Then on Tuesday at work I found the bad smell in the toy room: poop in the corner with the stuffed animals. I couldn't tell if it was from the cat or a kid; I don't really want to know, either. We washed all the stuffed animals... the bunny had poop on its ears.
J helped me cook dinner last night. He likes to help with stuff like that, but a lot of times it's hard for me to figure out how he can actually help me. While I rolled out pie crust for the quiche he played in a pile of flour and had a little ball of dough to smush. Later he was going to help me mix the eggs/meat/cheese, but he was rude to me and had to sit that one out. Then he helped grate carrots, but got bored with it so switched to putting curuba fruits in the blender for the juice. He cut his fingers on the grater, which I kind of figured would happen in spite of my careful instructions, demonstrations, and warnings. It didn't bleed much, though.

current events

Li'l J got lice. We shaved off his curly hair, which somehow makes him look much older and not as off-balanced: he already has a big head, and the 'fro made him seem top heavy, I suppose, even though I loved it.
At night as I'm putting him to bed we pray together. Usually I ask who he wants to pray for and then I do the talking, but sometimes he wants to say his own prayers. It's really sweet when you can tell he's really thinking about what he's saying, and thanking Papito Dios (Daddy God) for the cool things he got to do that day.
This past weekend we had a YWAM Bogota retreat in nearby Chinauta, which is hot country and rural. Li'l J LOVES the swimming pool! I also had a great time and got spoiled by friends who played with him a lot to give me time to do my own thing; I really appreciated that. He can't pronounce Chinauta... it comes out Chinota
: another cute 3-year-old pronunciation problem. All weekend it was "can I go to the pool now?" and "I want to play with T." (a friend of fellow volunteers)
He needs to learn that to have friends you have to be a friend. He can be a tricky little booger, and downright spiteful when he doesn't get his way. T's dad told me today that while the boys were playing over the weekend, J wanted T's favorite toy tractor, but T didn't want to give it to him. J suggested they play soccer, but as T ran toward the ball, J ran for the tractor.
The signs of the Fall show up really early, huh? Anyways, today T was kind of angry with J...
We watched a sermon by Craig Hill while we were in Chinauta, and it gave me a lot to think about with my relationship with God and especially now helping to raise a child. Maybe I'll post more once I process more, but for now I'll say that I'm wondering what needs to be healed or cut away from inside of me that negatively affects the way I relate to J. It challenged me to discipline with God's discipline instead of punishments based in shame (my own shame being transferred to him).
I don't know if that makes any sense, but like I said maybe I'll go more into it later.
I feel rested. I feel more playful, more fun. That, in itself, is a huge blessing.
Buenas noches

Displazada

Sometimes tears come before understanding. This is true of the little boy I take care of a lot, and sometimes also true of me, I'm finding. The last two Monday mornings were crying days for me, and I couldn't really figure out why. Maybe because I hadn't cried in two months and it was just time to do so again? Maybe because "homesickness comes in stages," like Rebecca said? I don't feel homesick in the sense I normally think of, though.

In Bogota there are lots of displazados -- people from other regions of the country who had to leave their homes and move to the city, and they often find themselves with no place to stay, no work, no nothing. In the park outside of El Otro Camino, there are several families of indigenous peoples who dry their clothes in the sun, make beaded bracelets, let their children play on the swingset, and generally look out of place and a bit aimless. Recently another nonColombian friend was talking to one and he told her that she was like him, displazada, displaced, away from home.

Even though I'm willingly displaced, not driven out, maybe I can relate in some small way. Outside of my community of "back home" I feel like I don't know myself as well. New and deeper questions are coming to surface that don't yet have answers. The dream that I'm here to fulfill isn't rose-colored in reality. I feel confident that I'm in the right place, doing the right thing, but it's not easy (or even fun some of the time).
And I think these things are the very tip of the iceberg, and they are very new thoughts so it's difficult to express them all coherently. Basically, things are good and I'm really happy to be here but at the same time I have moments of feeling completely lost and confused and frustrated about my role and who I am: here and in general.

The rabbit in the snare, the stars called by name

I was surprised to find it was Thursday morning already. Flooded with the feeling of life's fleetness again. "These weeks are flying by. My LIFE is FLYING BY. Am I living it well? To the fullest?"

And now it's Friday afternoon, for which I'm glad, and next week is Semana Santa so our regular programs will be closed and the whole team is going up to do work on the "farm"... I'm looking forward to the changes of scenery, pace, tasks, people. Pray for good weather. Lots of rain will mean we can't get the work done that needs done, and we also can't have a bonfire.

Working with children is hard when you're hoarse. By the time we got home today and J. went "directo a la cama" (straight to bed) for having thrown a fit with me, I was left feeling tired, physically and emotionally. I needed to feel more human -- which is the way I describe it when, after working with grungy little kids, I want to feel like a woman again -- so I changed my shirt and took Andrea's advice to pamper myself, repainting my toenails. Then I put on my weekend tennis shoes (that is, the pretty ones) and Madeline did me the favor of being in the house with J. sleeping so I could go across the street to the new coffee shop.

God bless the people who just opened that place. I feel like it's a special gift for me... somewhere less than a minute away where I can go get a cappuchino and sit and regain myself. So I sat and read a bit, and this is what the author said to me this time:

"Paradox again: to take ourselves seriously enough to take ourselves lightly. If every hair on my head is counted, then in the very scheme of the cosmos I matter; I am created by a power who cares about the sparrow, and the rabbit in the snare, and the people on the crowded streets; who calls the stars by name. And you. And me."