I was in the middle of writing a nice "Day at Tantur" post earlier today. But then reality hit. And folks should know -- my new life here definitely has its struggles. Today was a "If I had a plane ticket, I'd be on the next flight back to America" kind of day.
As I sat on my bed sobbing, with Miriam snuggling in my arms, trying to comfort me, I realized that the biggest cause of my inner pain came from feeling displaced and unneeded. Back 'at home,' our family felt like more of a unit. We were each other's fun, and each other's conversation partners. We had our meals together and played games and watched movies together. Now, that's all shifting. The kids have good neighbor friends their age, with whom they've watched a movie, played daily board games, and even eaten many dinners. Steve has all kinds of interesting people working and studying here, with whom to share intellectual conversations over meals. I? I feel like a nobody.
I'm not fun for the kids. I have to either watch Miriam, or I feel tired, or pressured by trying to plan homeschooling. I'm not interesting for Steve. What do I know about theology or history or anything really? I'm not even needed at the moment for the kids' schooling, for they're using online sources or are bright enough in the areas they're studying to really be doing fine on their own. That will change soon, but for today, I'm a nobody. I don't have my tutoring or my weekly homeschool co-op or monthly homeschool game nights. I'm also not needed for cooking, the way I was for the last 18 years. I have no input to what we eat, and get to hear no one say with satisfaction, "That was delicious, Mom!" And even Miriam, who still needs me more than anyone else does, is behaving as you'd expect a 2-year-old to -- pushing boundaries, practicing independence, and sometimes the very reason for my tears.
So when you think of us in Jerusalem, perhaps jealous of the cool places we go and historical sites we visit, or wishing you could be the one who doesn't have to cook for 9 months, just know: it's not all rosy by any means. My heart is breaking today, and it will be a struggle to get out of this pit I'm in...
As I sat on my bed sobbing, with Miriam snuggling in my arms, trying to comfort me, I realized that the biggest cause of my inner pain came from feeling displaced and unneeded. Back 'at home,' our family felt like more of a unit. We were each other's fun, and each other's conversation partners. We had our meals together and played games and watched movies together. Now, that's all shifting. The kids have good neighbor friends their age, with whom they've watched a movie, played daily board games, and even eaten many dinners. Steve has all kinds of interesting people working and studying here, with whom to share intellectual conversations over meals. I? I feel like a nobody.
I'm not fun for the kids. I have to either watch Miriam, or I feel tired, or pressured by trying to plan homeschooling. I'm not interesting for Steve. What do I know about theology or history or anything really? I'm not even needed at the moment for the kids' schooling, for they're using online sources or are bright enough in the areas they're studying to really be doing fine on their own. That will change soon, but for today, I'm a nobody. I don't have my tutoring or my weekly homeschool co-op or monthly homeschool game nights. I'm also not needed for cooking, the way I was for the last 18 years. I have no input to what we eat, and get to hear no one say with satisfaction, "That was delicious, Mom!" And even Miriam, who still needs me more than anyone else does, is behaving as you'd expect a 2-year-old to -- pushing boundaries, practicing independence, and sometimes the very reason for my tears.
So when you think of us in Jerusalem, perhaps jealous of the cool places we go and historical sites we visit, or wishing you could be the one who doesn't have to cook for 9 months, just know: it's not all rosy by any means. My heart is breaking today, and it will be a struggle to get out of this pit I'm in...
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