A week ago Isaiah and I had an always-ready weapon on hand. Literally, our hands. They were constantly ice-cold in the chilly winter weather so we would threaten to put them (or a frosty cold nose) on each other as punishment for this or that. That’s normal, right?
Then one morning we woke up and climbed out from under our pile of sleeping bags and watched as the day turned beautiful, sunny and eventually reached the low 90s. That warm weather continued for a handful of days and now I’m layering on my leopard print leggings again.
We’re living in a period where you can’t get too used to the weather because soon enough it will be changing again. And so it goes.
Perhaps my mood swings were slightly exaggerated in our Christmas 2012 infograph, but the truth is the Peace Corps experience sure has its way ups and way downs. If only I could remember the lesson of the weather in other areas of my life.
To not get too worked up about nobody buying the expensive benefit concert tickets because before too long a lower price (just Gs. 15.000) is chosen. Or to not get too stressed with the busyness of putting on a national entrepreneurship event because before too long it will be over and there will be time for other projects once again.
To not wallow for too long about my future life when I live just down the street from my best friend or my nieces and nephews and can visit them whenever I want. Because, you guessed it, before too long I’m shedding tears at only have 12 more months to live and work and be in Paraguay.
I remember my pastor Kevin’s talk during a friend’s wedding (Erin and Matt) about how there is a season for everything. And that good or bad, the season moves on. It sure seems to be the case in my experience in Paraguay. When things look grey and I feel frustrated or discontent, I only need to hang on because brighter days are surely not far away. To trust and have hope that the sun is peeking its smiley face from behind the clouds of my life.
It also means that when things are great and my mood is up at the peak of the graph, to let myself roll around in that double rainbowed life of mine and giggle breathlessly with delight. But to also keep myself grounded in the stable things that are important to me like Isaiah, my loving family and my tried-and-true friendships.
Above all, the lesson for me is to stay flexible. A lesson so simple yet so incredibly challenging. To change with the circumstances (weather or otherwise), land on my feet and look for the good in each day. To do what I can and let go of what I can’t, and give myself a gold star every once in a while. And to press one right into the forehead of the good people around me too so they’re reminded just how much they mean to me. Figuratively speaking, of course.