Reflection

12:18, February 3, 2010,

My bugbites are disappearing, my sunburn is flaking away, my bruises are fading, and my toe blister caused by my flipper while snorkeling Mexico Rocks is losing its sting in the shower. Still, my heart squeezes when I think about Belize. People think I miss the warm weather (we came home to 7–12” of snow), but it’s truly not. It’s my kids: Meredith, Ralston, and the others. The friendships, both Belizean and Emmanuel. The devotion hour and the soccer game. It just felt so much like home.

Sometimes we went out to touristy events and saw other foreigners, but I didn’t feel like one of them at all. I felt so much more in tune with Belize than these drunk, wealthy, plastic people. Let me describe this where I left off: after snorkeling, when we progressed (Walt, Tanisha, little Alex and I) to the chicken drop. [The entry stops here, apparently I was distracted. It was hard to write about Belize so soon after I got back, because it made me so sad.]