On Making Big Life Decisions from 30,000 Feet in the Air

I won't admit how many hours I've spent pouring over real estate websites, hoping and praying the market will suddenly change and become affordable in our area. We've looked at some pretty trashed, tiny places, and even many of them have been outside our budget. Our lease in our apartment ends May 4th, and we have needed a plan for what's next. We've spent hours debating where to live, what type of commute to tolerate, housing prices, and school options. At the end of the day, it always comes down to one major trump card: we are committed to the girls attending a dual-immersion (Spanish) school, and the district we are currently in has plans for dual language curriculum through high school. Most districts have a lottery and end up with a wait-list, but we got lucky and got into the program last Spring while still living in Guatemala, and our other two girls have automatic entrance as siblings into the program. It feels like the most obvious choice, but one that makes housing more difficult.

We've been discouraged by what we've seen, and had just decided that a townhouse might be a great option for us, if the right one popped up.

In the meantime, MCC (the organization we were in Guatemala with), sponsors a "Re-Entry" Retreat, in which people who have worked with MCC throughout the world and have returned back to the US and Canada spend some time together talking about the process of transitioning back to North America. We had been planning for months to attend this, and left last Thursday morning. There were people from all over Latin America, several African countries, Bangladesh and China, and two of our Guatemalan team members were there, too.

So fun to see ex-MCC Guatemalan team members!

Thursday morning, on the way to the airport, I got a notification of a townhouse that went on the market, 76 minutes earlier, to be exact. We were standing by our gate, about to board our flight.

"Michael, look at this gorgeous townhouse." I tossed my phone to him. "The biggest floor plan in the whole community...I think we should look into it. This will go super fast."

The market has been crazy and homes get multiple offers, often over the asking price, within a couple days of going on the market. We weren't going to be home until Sunday night, and I knew that this home in such great condition wouldn't last on the market for long.

I started texting my realtor, using the wi-fi on the airplane to be in touch with her and our lender. My mom was going to drive up and look at it, but then we decided to just trust our realtor with that task. She had seen enough houses with us to know what we were looking for. By mid-morning there were already back-to-back appointments lined up to view the home.

By Thursday night our realtor had seen the place and we were ready to move forward. We stayed up late Thursday night writing a letter to the Sellers to accompany our offer, which we submitted Friday afternoon. We heard on Saturday morning that they wanted one more night to review offer(s) as one of the owners was out of town and there were several showings of the home that had been scheduled before our offer and deadline came in.

10:00 AM on Sunday, we were to hear if they would accept or reject our offer. Talk about a whirlwind!

California Redwoods

In the meantime, we continued to attend sessions at this retreat, discussing and sharing with others who had lived overseas, most for several years. We also spent a couple hours in Santa Cruz, enjoying the chilly yet sunny beach.

We shared our hopes and fears of coming back to North America, of leaving our work and our relationships in the countries where we were assigned. Despite living in unique places and cultures all over the world, it was incredible to hear how similar our hopes and fears were.

There were some emotional parts of the weekend. I found myself more and more nervous to hear about this home. We've been "back home" in Oregon for about 7 months, and living in an apartment has been part of our transition, but it's been temporary. We've been amazingly blessed by how rapidly Michael's role changed at his work. We have "adjusted" in most ways to being back in the US, but this last piece, finding a home and committing for at least a few years has been hanging there, waiting.

Sunday morning, the last morning together, we were focusing on our transition back home, on letting go of painful situations that may have occurred during our service, on looking for hope in our future, on being resilient and never, ever forgetting lessons learned.

We started singing "Great is Thy Faithfulness." At some point, my phone buzzed, and I knew it was the realtor. I was pretty nervous but knew I wasn't going to check my phone until our session was over.

And these lyrics reminded me that God has provided for us in so many ways, and will continue to do that, whether this specific home is the right one for us, or something else:

Great is Thy faithfulness! 
Morning by morning new mercies I see. 
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided,
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

Finally, the service ended, and I stepped outside, tears still in my eyes from this sense of peace and realization that God will provide, either way.

"Well," said my realtor to me on the phone. "There was one other offer submitted, but they accepted yours. Congratulations!"

I immediately started balling. The stress of the past several months of looking for housing, plus the emotional weekend of processing everything about leaving Guatemala early, returning to the US, and the relief of finding a home, all came down at once.

I told Michael during the craziness of working up our offer, as we found a coffee shop on Friday afternoon to E-sign our official offer letter from a State away without having seen the actual home (the pictures were super helpful), "We can never do simple." (I was remembering last May, signing our lease via E-sign for our current apartment by using Michael's cell phone as a hot spot, while driving through the Guatemalan hills towards Honduras. We really do these things in the most complicated manner possible, right?)

Obviously, nothing is set in stone until Closing, which won't happen until the end of April, but we are excited, thrilled, relieved, hopeful. God's timing continues to prove perfect, even comical, in our lives. Michael leaves tomorrow morning for three weeks to Africa. And the Chapman Craziness continues.

A New Year, Another Change

This time last year I made a few goals.

I wanted to train for and run a half-marathon. Check.
I wanted to try to blog every day, "unpolished." That happened for maybe half the year, and then my blogging petered out.
Read more books. I'd say I've done that, especially thanks to having access to a public library again.

A year ago I never would have imagined that a year later we'd have returned from Guatemala. That was a huge and unexpected change in 2016. One of the reasons I stopped writing here last year is that I was trying to process our move and all the changes. And I still am.

People continue to ask us about the "transition" back to the US, back to Oregon. "How does it feel to be living back in the US?" "How is the transition going?" "Are you feeling settled?"

The pat answer is usually: It's good. The transition has gone well. We miss things about Guatemala but also feel like coming back was the right decision for us as a family. Those are all true, but a bit too concise, too simple.

The longer answer is that some days we really miss Guatemala. Some days we are sad when we see parts of Guatemala already slipping from the minds of our two oldest girls. The three years and three months we spent living in Guatemala were hard but also life-changing. Crazy and intense, and Ours. We miss the people and the friends and the diversity. So many things we miss.

But honestly, most days, we have felt relief. Relieved of the stress of living in a difficult environment. Relieved of the stress of an intense job that in no way was confined to an 8-5 schedule. Relieved of the stress that the role took on our family and our girls and our marriage.

The most clear benefit of being "home" is our girls.

I am getting a priceless year with Hazel, before she starts kindergarten this Fall. I get to help at her preschool twice a month. I get to see her thrive in an environment where play is the emphasis, not learning cursive as a 4-year old.

I am getting priceless years with Ruby. I get three mornings a week just me and her. We have a special bond and I know the next couple years when her two older sisters will be in school will be priceless, too.

Ellie is in a Spanish kindergarten classroom, not as intense as her classes in Guatemala. She seems to be thriving and our girls being in a Dual Language Program will continue to guide our decisions in the coming years. It's become a priority for us and we are lucky that Oregon has so many schools with this option.

Last May, when Michael accepted the position with Medical Teams International and we made the difficult decision to leave Guatemala, there were a lot of unknowns. We found an apartment and a school with Spanish Immersion. We bought a mini-van and found some furniture. The position itself didn't feel permanent. If I'm being honest, it hasn't been the best use of Michael's skills and experience, but it was our ticket home, and his open door into a new organization (he had been with MCC for about 7 years). So we trusted and hoped that this step home was just that, one step that could hopefully be the gateway into something else.

Our First Snow in Oregon

And this week, that decision we made to trust the process, to trust that the step towards MTI and Oregon was a good one, has been affirmed. On Friday, Michael accepted another position within MTI. It's a position that will better utilize his skills and experience and education. He'll be switching from a support role in the Latin America department to being the Africa and Middle East Program Manager. It's a big switch, in both scope and responsibility, and will involve quite a bit of travel, but we are excited. I can't help but feel like this entire year, the process of trusting in each step, has culminated in this new position.

It's one of those times in our lives where I will always look back and say, yes, I believe that was God guiding us. We trusted in the process. We trusted that coming home was a good decision for our family. We trusted that Michael would eventually find a better fit. We didn't expect it to happen quite so fast, but we are so thankful.

Enjoying a hike at Multnomah Falls to celebrate our 12th anniversary

I'm so proud of Michael and ready to see what 2017 brings to our family.

Catching Water

I won't cease wondering what kind of impact this experience of living and working in Guatemala will have on our girls. I think about the visits to communities in which we work. I carry images of my girls playing alongside indigenous children, their brightly colored guipiles (traditional Mayan clothing) in stark contrast to my girls' outfits bought at a large department store in the US. 

From a trip a couple years ago:

Duck, Duck Goose (Pato, Pato, Ganso)

Makes friends fast, a life-long skill.

My girls have experienced a lot. With time their memories will fade and become more ideas than specific recollections.  

On the way to Honduras a couple weeks ago we stopped to visit a project that MCC supports near the Guatemalan border. Guatemala has the 4th highest malnutrition rate in the world, and within Guatemala this area is among the poorest. 

It’s starkly impoverished. Children with extended bellies wearing clothes intended for kids half their size. The poverty is real and unbelievable and yet there it is, begging us to notice. 

We were welcomed in the community by a group of women, the leaders of the community working to improve their access to water and food. They fed us bread soaked in a sweet corn-based liquid. 

Photo credit: Ellie

Ruby really enjoyed it, and the women enjoyed her. 

The rest of us offered ours to the kids sitting near us. “We just ate lunch. We’re a bit full." 

 We went on a walk to visit their local water source, the most dinky watering holes imaginable.

Peering at one of the "wells."
(Don Peters, MCC Canada Executive Director, joined us on this trip)

These women wake up at 4:30 every morning to walk here and gather water. It can take two hours to fill a small container. These plastic bowls “hold” their place in line, as the water trickles in over the course of hours. 

 I couldn't help but feel the irony in carrying around our plastic water bottles to quench our thirst as we stared into the small puddles of water. 

This is their reality, their daily ritual, whereas my morning ritual, in contrast, is to take a hot shower, drink hot coffee, and check my Facebook. 

This area has been hard hit by the drought that has passed over Central America over the last couple years. MCC’s work here has been to support a local NGO to construct water catchment systems that save and store water for individual families. This water can then be used for things like watering gardens. 

Retrieving water from the Catchment System

The girls were with us, and we trudged up and down the dusty paths, visiting sparse but proudly demonstrated gardens, water systems, and these watering holes. As happens often while living here, I was unsure how much of the desperate situation to explain to my 3 and 5 year-olds. 

It was hot and sweaty and dusty. I carried Ruby on my back up the steep hills. There were several complaints from our girls. “It’s hot. I’m tired. My legs hurt. Are we done yet?” 

I don’t want to instill a sense of guilt in our girls. That’s not the point. But I do want them to know that there are others who have very little. That basics like running water are not a given for all people. (Ironically, as I wrote this, our electricity and water were out for more than five hours due to a thunderstorm). So I explained in simple terms that these women are people Mommy and Daddy work with, that our job with MCC is to help them figure out ways to catch rain water and feed their families. 

“These women have to walk along here to get water. You know how we have water in our house, in the faucet? These women have to carry their water all the way from these water holes to their house. Every day. Lots of times every day. It's a lot of work.”

The next day, as we continued our travels towards Honduras, it began to rain. 

“Mommy! It’s raining!” This, from Ellie. "That means our friends from yesterday can have some plants.”

I just looked at her. Somehow, some little piece of the day before had stayed with her. She made the connection that these “friends” will be thankful it’s raining, that the rain will be helpful. That with this rain, their plants will grow, and their children may get some food.

I hope and pray that these moments will be nestled deep in their hearts, that the feelings of compassion and joy for others will be nurtured. That our life here and the stories we will choose to tell them as their memories of Guatemala fade, will shape our girls and our family in unfathomable ways. 

Tela, Honduras and the First Goodbyes

We got to spend a few days at the beach in Honduras after Rep meetings with some dear friends. We had planned this trip long before we knew we are moving out of Guatemala, so we were especially glad to have this time with friends, other Reps, one last time before we leave.

It was bittersweet, a reminder of something we are choosing to leave. I am not a fan of saying Goodbye, I cry at the hint of a Goodbye.

We are thankful to have walked three years with these other Reps. We all met at MCC Orientation in Pennsylvania almost exactly three years ago, and have journeyed together in the highs and lows of our roles.

We will miss you, dear friends.

Some memories from our trip:

T Minus

We drove yesterday for 12 hours to arrive back home to Guatemala, after 10 days in Honduras.

We had meetings, said goodbye to our counterparts in other countries, and had a couple days to rest as a family and with friends.

Now we're at home and honed in on the fact that we have 25 days until we leave Guatemala.

I've been asked by several people if I will continue to write on this blog. Yes, I will. I've had this blog for years, and it will continue to be a place where I write and process life. I'm sure we will have much to think about as we transition to the States. 

I imagine I'll continue to reflect on how we may have changed in our three years, how priorities may have shifted. I think we will experience some levels of culture shock, though maybe not as stark as if we were living without access to so many North American amenities. My guess is that the changes and "shocks" will be subtle. We've talked a lot, Michael and I, about how we can be intentional with our choices and lifestyle as we go back to the States. How to live "simply" in an area where cost of living is very high. Purchases of furniture or toys or kitchen appliances...how can these be done in a way that resonates with who we are and what we want to instill in our girls?

We have fears, too. I fear losing my Spanish for lack of practice. I fear forgetting. That our girls will jump right into life and not notice many differences. I fear how easy the "American dream" and consumerism can become a seduction, and hope to find balance in that.

We are a mix of emotions these days. We are excited, tired, happy, sad, grieving, busy, ready, planning, packing, dreaming, waiting, expecting, hopeful.

In Honduras

The girls and I made a paper chain to count down the number of days until we leave for Oregon.

There’s a whole lot that has to happen before we leave, so the chain is a reminder to me of the number of days we have left to get a whole lot done.

We have spent a lot of our three years here organizing and cleaning up the office, literally and figuratively. We are content with the current state of things, overall, and heck, there’s a lovely newly remodeled office for whoever steps into the office next.

At this point, no replacements will be here before we leave, so we won’t have an opportunity to train or orient the next Reps. This means we need to leave things in good order, write out a Transition Manual and try to do everything we can to leave things ready to be picked up down the road.

So that’s what our next few weeks will be filled with.

After Rep meetings.

We’re currently in Honduras, with Country Representatives from the rest of Latin America and Haiti. It’s a bit surreal to be here, participating and at the same time planning for our departure in just one short month (We’ve booked our tickets: we fly home July 3^rd). These counterparts, these other Reps, are literally the only other people in the world who have a clue what being a Rep is like, what our days and weeks look like, how stressful it can be and has been. We will miss their support and camaraderie. The end of this time together will be some of our more difficult goodbyes in this process.

On another note, I’m feeling so thankful that we have an apartment in Oregon. We E-signed the lease on Saturday. I couldn’t help but marvel that I was in a large van, driving near the border of Honduras in rural Guatemala, and there I was using Michael’s cell phone as a Hotspot to emit wifi so that I could connect my computer to the internet and pay our deposit on our apartment, AND sign the lease via some secure electronic signature. That is technology at its finest.

Ellie is enrolled in Kindergarten in a Dual-Immersion program at the school we wanted, and we found an apartment in the same school zone. Those were two of the biggest details I have been worried about over the last weeks, and my stress level has gone down immensely since these two things have been secured.

We have no car, no furniture, a heck of a lot to do here, 8 suitcases to pack, but I’m feeling at peace. Those things will fall into place. 

Never a Dull Moment

The Chapmans have news. Again.

But first, here are some pictures of our cute kids feeding and chasing birds in the Central Plaza. 

Ok. Our news.

After a lot of reflection and conversations about what's best for us and our family, Michael has accepted a job offer to work at Medical Teams International, based in Tigard, Oregon. We will be moving to Oregon at the beginning of July. We are thrilled that we will be back in the state that we have referred to as "home" for years, though it's been almost 10 since we've lived there long-term.

With less than 2 years to go on our contract with MCC, this was a difficult decision for us. We have trusted the process and feel a huge peace in this decision. But we know how a decision like this affects our staff, our counterparts in other countries, our bosses, and of course, the partners and projects with whom we work.

MCC has been a wonderful organization to work for. They've been extremely supportive of us as a family and have cared for us well. We greatly appreciate the work they do and will continue to do and we will dearly miss the people we've come to know and love.

We've had an amazing three years here in Guatemala. We have no regrets. We are thankful for the friendships we've made and the experiences we've had. We leave happy and content. We are changed for the better.

But we also leave ready for another phase in life. We are excited that Ellie has the possibility of enrolling in a Dual-Immersion Kindergarten program that is 90% Spanish. I am excited to have time at home with Hazel and Ruby before Hazel starts Kindergarten one short year later.  I'm excited to possibly use my Oregon Teacher's License that I have maintained valid all this time.

So, it's sad news in some ways. I hate despedidas (goodbyes). There are friends and things about life here we will miss. We know we will look back and always see this as a precious experience in the life of our family. But this is good news too. This feels like a good change at the right time for our family, for us as a couple, and most importantly a chance to live closer to family and friends.

Oregon, ready or not, here we come!