Saturday, December 14, 2013

Strange Isolation

This goes to a different level of personal. This has nothing to do with the ministry so you don't have to continue reading. This is just a personal hiccup. 

Standing in a room surrounded by hundreds of people. I feel so alone. It happened twice today.

First, we had Isabellas Christmas Show. Unless we wanted to move to the capital, Isa is in the best school on the coast. Not because we fit in with the rest of the people. Simply because a parent wants the best for their child. And here the best only offers a public school curriculum from the U.S. and the American teachers to back it. The sacrifice, for us, is worth it. It is funny as I look around the gymnasium. I kind of had a laugh. She is in a school with kids that come from better families. To put it into something you can understand. The children of the Honduran T.G.Lee and children of United Airlines in her class. The Paris Hilton of Central America can be seen walking down the school halls. Sweet Bella, the child of a humble dentist and foreign missionary. What glory! Laugh! I give you permission. It is what I wanted to do. 

Surrounded with people that I am afraid to talk to. 

Then, we had a Christmas Party!!! Fun, right? Not so much. I was surround by plastic stitched doctors and their wives. Yea, that category hits me. Hitched to an Oral Surgeon in the 2nd poorest country in this hemisphere. Taadaa! He is an associate in the only medical complex you want to visit. They swipe the coast from Trujillo on. Unless you can get to San Pedro, they can't be beat. That being said. The room is full of doctors married to doctors. The only way for you to "make" something of yourself if you don't own all the milk for 500 miles? Study and become a professional. Gynecologists married to pediatricians. Anesthesiologists with dentists. Obstetricians with neurologists. Why? It is the only way to survive in a country with a quarter of the income and same cost of living as the United States. It is cheaper to have a house keeper/nanny than to pay day care. We don't have one, sure would make my life easier. I could have Jayden here if I did. 

Feeling lonely. Inadequate. Ugly. Like flubber. 

I see perfection, beauty, and...
people that just don't care. 

People that greet with hugs and kisses. Asking how life and the cl..., what do you do again? I'm the oddball. Not just up in the States, here to. "Oh, thats right. You have all those kids." Quick, time to move on before this girl makes you feel guilty. 

I have learned to be silent. I answer what is asked. I push nothing else on people. Mr. Wonderful on the other hand seems to have some chip in him that says "make them all feel like crap!" He will talk all night about me and what I do. He likes them getting uncomfortable. 

The clock is quickly reaching midnight. Tapping Nilssons arm, "I need to go. I have to finish Christmas Baskets. I promised to make the cupcakes again." 180 cupcakes for the first feeding station await me. I stayed up until 4:30 in the morning and now I can't sleep. I only have to frost them and should probably get started. 

I have the worst job in the world. I am told this all the time as people watch me cry when the judge removes a child. Or when people see me pick a new one up. "Gringa, I could never do your job." My back hurts. My feet hurt. My heart hurts. I work longer hours than a doctor in residency. I love harder than 80% of the parents in this world. I will give you my shoes and I will go barefoot. 

But PLEASE, don't make me sit through another night like tonight. If the word sacrifice isn't in your vocabulary I feel like I can't be near you. And I? I should be proud and not insecure by why I am here. Something for me to work on. 

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