Estoy echando de menos los gallos.

For a week I let myself sleep without an alarm.  I'd wake up and lay there listening to the roosters announce to the world that another day had dawned. Or maybe they were just hungry and calling for food. Either way...it wouldn't be a morning in Ixtlan without them.  One night I woke up, wide awake. Thinking about getting out of bed I then realized that it was all quiet outside.  No roosters.  No birds.  Dread filled me as I realized that it was probably a long way till the sun would shine.  Checking the clock it was 3:20.  As I laid there and the minutes ticked slowly by I soon heard the first rooster wake up. And with sleep still in his throat his "qui-qui-ri-quí" sounded like he was being both strangled and drowned.  It was Not Pretty. It only lasted a short while then even he decided it was too early and went back to sleep. Now, as I am back to some semblance of a schedule again, my brain protests at the return of the alarm.  I wouldn't quite call myself awake yet as I get behind the wheel these mornings. Makes me realize just how tough it is going to be to remain thankful for my apartment as I start residency.

This past Tuesday was when I returned from Mexico.  In one word to describe my week....every moment had been BEAUTIFUL.  Unfortunately, the week passed just as a moment does...too quickly.  I left Tuesday, my steps steady, but the heart perhaps a bit heavy, burdened by the renewed ache of missing each one of their beautiful faces.  A strong ache now at the blessing of having just been with them, but will soon fade to the constant dull ache that I have come to accept as ever present in my chest.  The price one pays for the richness and blessing of loving people, loving family, in more place than one.

Through the course of Tuesday, my travels found me on a bus. A taxi. A plane. Another plane. Another bus. A train. And finally, I walked the last mile home in the dark cold drizzle of a New York night.  As I got wetter and my duffle bag got heavier with each step, I got increasingly thankful.  I had travelled far.  I had used multiple modes of transportation, and thanks be to travelling mercies, was able to do so in less than 24 hours.  But even moreso than God's protection while travelling, I was thankful that I had been able to leave HOME early that morning, and yet was arriving HOME that evening.  I had encountered more than a few throughout that journey caught somewhere in between. As I sat next to a lady, her entire belongings seemingly next to her on the floor of the Harlem-125th St station, a police officer confronted her about what she was doing there. She had a look of naive desperation like she wasn't sure what was going to happen next, and unsure of what to do if she couldn't stay. A look like she wanted to disappear, and let the world move on without her. I wanted to step in and say she was coming with me. But then my selfishness stopped me. If I invited her home. Where would she sleep? The floor? My bed? And then there'd be tomorrow...what would she do then?  In the end, to my shame, I got on the train alone.  May my Father in Heaven continue to break me of the idea that I am anything more than nothing except for what His grace allows. And I pray that someone stronger than I crossed paths with that soul in the Harlem-125th St station.

Much Love