We moved. New city, micro-climate, home. And new ants.

It is harder to unpack than pack, that is my conclusion after this move. Unpacking requires more deep thinking on the placement of things, and chaos of random junk that I should have tossed a while ago. Unpacking creates a running list of things that to purchase for the space to feel more comfy, practical, and livable. There is always something. Some hooks, a rug, a lamp, a shoe rack and I should probably replace the ugly placemat we brought with. Unpacking takes heart, packing just takes energy.

Shifting from the humanitarian world to full-time motherhood has its fill of challenges. Costa Rica has been a recharge destination. One so full of life and beauty that it demands our hearts to slow down and pay attention. Perhaps, with time, it will wear off. For now I greatly enjoy the mix of rain and shine and rhythms of life that this season of motherhood brings.

These days my mind wanders in what feels like a major reset. A perspective shift from constantly trying to figure it all out: Where will we live? What will we do? What is our five-year dream? To one of letting go and holding on. Letting go of what I thought I wanted to build or where we should be and holding on to the good gifts of this season. If I look back at all the major shifts in life, God always provides the next steps at just the right time. At a moment’s notice, God can move and reveal something we had never considered before. No amount of pondering or worrying add or detract from whatever lay ahead.

I’ve sat at the laptop a few times trying to imagine what would be worth sharing with my measly audience. My work with Marigold had come to a standstill with many visitors and two littles to take care of. Marigold has been in Ukraine, working to help people caught in the war, and not as readily available, leaving me feeling a bit discouraged and wondering when momentum would return. All too quickly my curiosity gets the best of me and rather then write I end up “googling” whatever random topic has been floating around in my mind that day. And the sacred time to sit and create is gone.

Yet. Today. With a new candle lit and a slight breeze coming through my cracked window. I am ready to write on Friendship. It is a sweet thing to feel the beginnings of a budding relationship. It has taken a year for the dust to settle after our cross-country move, but as it falls into place, my heart is leaping with anticipation.

Emma, now nine months old, had colic as a newborn and the only way we could get her to calm down during the late-night screams was to walk outside. With Emma, the outdoors is our saving grace. Lately I’ve been pondering the significance behind a move from the desert to rainforest. The stark contrast demands contemplation. And any time I find myself with time to talk with the God of our universe about this season, all I can sense is a profound invitation to rest. To enjoy. To accept the season as it is.

I recently had a fellow writer critique a draft chapter for a book proposal. Her feedback was to include more sensory details. “Show don’t tell.” And she is right. As a realist, I tend to jump to the facts of the matter, how did it happen, what was I thinking, or what is the deeper bits beneath it all anyway? Yet – there is so much beauty in the details. What color was the room where that decision was made, how did your body feel? What did the wind feel like on your skin?

In Costa Rica people often say – “Pura Vida!” to say hello, goodbye, or just in response to difficult situation or to answer the question How are you?

Pura Vida means “pure life,” and expresses a way of life that is simple, happy, and content. A phrase that is, by all means, cultural, and reflects the optimistic nature that we encounter again and again while living here.

New Year’s Day we were invited to a waterfall hike with a dear friend and her family. We drove 45 minutes away, towards Volcano Poas, through windy roads and ended up at a private cow farm.

In this moment, when my fingertips finally get to let loose at the keyboard, I am slightly annoyed.

My hope was to have more time for this. I imagined these blissful moments, when I am free to take a breath, breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth - slowly, effortlessly, peacefully – all the while tapping away with something fierce and beautiful to write about.

Then the hour arrives. The kids are down, my tea is halfway finished, already chilled. Goodness, I even shut off the lights and lit a candle to try to set the mood. Nothing. Instead, I feel suffocated. Like something within me can’t breathe. My thoughts, they are squelched tonight. Why?

Our two-year-old was tired – and anything could set her off, and it did. Church service had just ended and she joined the room of chatting adults. I don’t remember what I said or did, but she was on the floor within seconds, and I was also tired, and didn’t have an extra set of arms to pick her up and give her a proper hug because my hands were filled with my fussy six month- also on the verge of a breakdown. So, I just awkwardly tried to continue talking with a friend, my face clearly showing the uncomfortable feeling of failure.

It is our last night in North Carolina. In a hectic season, this trip has been surprisingly refreshing. For this, I am beyond grateful. Maybe it is the clear blue sky or crisp fallen leaves, but I am leaving this place feeling better than when I came.

A few nights ago we stayed at our friend’s house, sitting on a mountainside along the blue-ridge parkway. With the morning sunlight it almost feels like you’re in a treehouse. We met Kelly and Sargon during our dating days in North Iraq.

I’m currently sitting on the floor eating oreo cookies in a dark, dark, hotel conference room. It’s dark because Emma is sleeping, and we don’t want to wake Phoebe who is sleeping upstairs in our hotel room. I’m eating oreo cookies because I had to use the atm at the local gas station so that I could insert four quarters into the hotel dryer. We have the next sixty minutes to sit in the dark silence before our laundry is complete.

We’re currently in North Carolina but have been on the road for a week with the littles. We’re in the thick of it, and I am so tired. I had hoped to leave some really good advice about travel on this blog post, but my energy is seriously waning to pound out those best 1-2-3 travel tips just yet. It may require some time of reflection to get to that point. There are good days, and there are bad days. There are days when I am focused on routine and schedules and days that I just let everything loose.