hola hola everybody!

I am having the most fab time in Spain. Life is wonderful. I LOVE my boys already. Ages 8, 11, and 13, I'm supposed to "take care of" them, walk them to/from school, and practice English with them. In reality most of my days are filled with beyblades, trips to the park, and using the iPhone camera to create "scary movies." Generally you can hear me yelling "Let's go Simón!" (my sweet slowpoke,) while Simón and Matías run in opposite directions shouting "Hannah look please!" They are so sweet, polite, gentle, and full of energy.

Recently, I discovered I enjoy observing the people I love, and have found myself just looking at the new members of my family. With a soft face and a tender heart, my gaze lingers for longer than is typically comfortable. I began this practice before I left for Spain, targeting my sister. I noticed how beautiful she was, how she lit up when she smiled, her different mannerisms, and something that escaped my notice before: she is an individual human being with unique thoughts running through her mind. I love her, and I loved her more by watching her. Actually, I didn't love her more, I just loved her, because I believe Love is not something that can be measured. I don't know how to reply when someone responds to my "I love you" with "I love you more." My love feels, quite literally, less than and negated. Love is not a competition. When you love someone it is all-encompassing; not an amount which can be compared. This said, I just loved her.

Today has been a fabulous day. It started off with a series of challenges. I was late getting up so I did not urge the boys out of the door early enough, and missed my bus. More accurately, I ran from the boys' school to the bus stop and tried to hop on the bus while the doors closed on me as quickly as they had opened. I pulled on the back door but it wouldn't budge and the people inside looked at me as they drove off. The woman behind me stated indifferently that I had to enter through the front door. I was frustrated with myself for not being ready, with the boys for lacking a sense of urgency, and with everyone else for not preparing me adequately to get on a bus. These feelings were magnified because I had missed the first tram the day before also. I felt so dumb. I wanted to wallow in self-pity and cry on the bus stop bench because this was SO HARD. I choked back the tears because I knew I was alone ~ across the world from the people I wanted to help me in that moment ~ and crying before my first class would not attract any beneficial attention. So I put in my earbuds and clicked play. Fear Is a Liar by Zach Williams, then Pieces by Bethel Music played in my ears, then my head, then my heart. Wow. I had to choke back the tears again, this time from a place of gratitude for my Lord keeping a careful watch on me. I had been so afraid of being late, not understanding, and messing up, but my fear had lied to me. This was my first time using a bus or tram in any city, with currency I was not familiar with, in a language I didn't know well, and I was figuring it out by myself. I am allowed to offer myself grace through this challenging season and have the freedom to exempt myself from feeling dumb. This song reminded me that when looking from a place of fear I will not see Truth. During this rollercoaster I bought another lie. I unconsciously believed that I was "less than" because I did not pick up the customs and integrate into this new city immediately. Yet the Lord of the universe whispered in my ear that "His Love is proud to be seen with me." Yes. Yes it is folks.

...All this to arrive at the class after the 9:15 start time and discover that it hasn't begun yet and it is the most chill room I have ever been in. Then I remember that I am in SPAIN. They are the most relaxed people and nothing happens in the timeframe an American would expect. I'm in my proper place people.