Let's Re-cap

I will take the past and roll it between my palms, and blow the pieces backwards, where they can't touch me. I want to remember the beautiful things, so many beautiful things. I want to remember the things that have changed me.

In January one of my dear friends was going through one of the most heart-breaking times in her life. I flew to Chicago to see her for a few days and we had fun walking through snow and trying to look toward a hopeful future. I feel a little sick even thinking about that time, because it was so sad, but God has taken the ashes of her sadness and repaired the broken things. I am sure the repair continues, every day.

In February I learned to knit, and ever after spent many, many happy hours knitting with my friends at the Land in front of the fire in the woodstove. A whole new addiction was formed, one that is remarkably calming. I also wrote my I Am post, and then won Mary's contest, which was pretty nice.

In March I grieved and grieved because some of our best friends were en route to moving away from the Land, the ones we had said we couldn't do without.

In April... well, in April I lost my little baby, due to an ectopic pregnancy. (Oh Lord, this is getting depressing, am I always this down?)

In May I wrote an impromptu poem about wildflowers. (That's better.) I also drove to Canada with the kids by myself while Chinua went to Turkey. I had an incredible and adventurous trip. May was good.
In June I ran out of my dance class, crying. Yes, yes I did. I remember that now. That's kinda funny in hindsight. It was also then (although I didn't really write about it at the time) that Chinua and I, and then the rest of our community, started talking about making a pretty bold move and deciding to live somewhere else.

In July, I wrote a post about a day in the life. It was life at the Land, yes it was. And then I took a long break.

In August my brother got married! I just realized that I never showed you any of the pics. I'll have to do that soon.

In September, I took a trip down the 1, a checker at Costco assumed I was on my way to the slammer, and I found out that my grandmother has leukemia. At this point we were getting the Land ready for sale in earnest. We also had a wonderful offer (In September? October?) to move to Sacramento for a while, before we moved to India.

In October, I had lumps removed from my head. We frantically got ready to move. We frantically, frantically, got ready to move. And got ready to move. And I think that pretty much sums up October.

In November, I drove to Canada so that I could see my grandmother. And promptly drove myself off a cliff.  Not smart. But we were all okay! Except for the van. (My poor parents- it was my mom's van.) Then I flew to Edmonton with my sister and saw my grandmother after all. And that was amazing. We drove home from B.C. to Sacramento (not so amazing) in the middle of a windstorm. And my sternum almost fell off. Then somewhere in there I conceived a baby, before flying to Burkina Faso.

And then, December. Ahhh. Jessie and Cindy and I spent some amazing time in Burkina Faso, and flew home with a combination of reluctance and excitement. After having some crazy emotions and several people noticing my belly, I discovered that I am pregnant! Christmas was upon us and then we flew to Detroit, to see family.

I think that deciding to step away from what we were doing was one of the most courageous things that Chinua and I have ever done. I really believe that. And I see how God has continued to allow things to fall into place, again and again, perfectly. I have received gifts, this past year, like the trip to Burkina, like the ability to be here still, even after a major car accident. And I see that it has not been without trials. There has been turbulence. We have had to fasten our seatbelts, a few times. So maybe the unlocking of emotion right now is not without cause.

I know, however, that Joseph eventually became a prince, in Egypt. He got sprung. So tomorrow I think I will write a little about the next year. Maybe it will be ridiculously hopeful. I'm not planning to lose weight or start jogging. But I would like to shift a little closer to that rightness that I see there, off on the horizon.