From Snow to Guayabas

dancer in zocalo We’ve swung a full pendulum’s worth of experiences in the last month.  We left Oaxaca in December and arrived in Ohio, going from warmth to cold, from Spanish speaking friends to German and Hungarian speaking relatives, from mole and empanadas to stuffed peppers and halushka.

Then there were mental transitions (yup, Americans think different than southern Mexicans) as well as materialistic transitions (economic crisis is relative to its culture).

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Along with the ethnic subcultures among our families, we also experienced a generational subculture at the World Missions Summit we attended with approximately 3,000 university students and a host of other missionaries.

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not a one horse open sleighNow we’re back in Oaxaca.  We left in a snowstorm last weekend as the plows tried clearing  the runway for take off, then we landed safely on a mountain plateau, arriving home to find our guayaba tree filled with fruit and the bougainvillea outside my kitchen window in full fuchsia bloom.

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I’m so glad God isn’t limited to place or people!  He is the constant as my world turns.

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