“Lavavajillas.” Or, as my brain sees it, “Lavavavavavajillas.” I dare you to say it three times fast. I dare you to say it one time moderately slowly.
It means “dishwasher” and I can’t say it for the life of me. It has way too many syllables for its own good, and every time I try I just get stuck on how many “va”s there are, and it quickly becomes a lost cause. Nine times out of ten I either point or say it in English.
The last week has been like one giant instance of me frustratedly pointing and trying to spit word out. I have been moody, melancholy, and wholly and agitatedly frustrated. Some of it may be blamed on hormones, and some of it may be blamed on a decided dearth of endorphins (I injured my foot and haven’t been running for over a week). More of it can be blamed on everything else: the post office is holding my glasses hostage at the airport until I pay a $35 import tax (which I would do, except the process to do so is like navigating a corn maze where the corn has been replaced by chainsaws). I have gone to buy a monthly transit pass three times now and each time have been told that I’m missing yet another piece of my application. Establishing my schedule has not been quick to happen, which drives me nuts. The girls had an especially loud and whiny week, and each day my patience was gone by the first ten minutes of them being awake. And so on.
Thank the Lord, however, that this week has been so much better. The girls and I have had mostly good days (though why I had to fight so hard to get Irene to put on her shirt this morning I’ll never know). We have plenty of groceries, thanks to Nuria’s superintensive shopping trip yesterday. My foot is mostly better (I’m about to go running and we shall see how healed it really is).
On top of all of these blessings, however, I ran into this:
“We live in such a way that no one will stumble because of us, and no one will find fault with our ministry. In everything we do, we show that we are true ministers of God. We patiently endure troubles and hardships and calamities of every kind. We have been beaten, been put in prison, faced angry mobs, worked to exhaustion, endured sleepless nights, and gone without food. We prove ourselves by our purity, our understanding, our patience, our kindness, by the Holy Spirit within us,and by our sincere love. We faithfully preach the truth. God’s power is working in us. We use the weapons of righteousness in the right hand for attack and the left hand for defense. We serve God whether people honor us or despise us, whether they slander us or praise us. We are honest, but they call us impostors. We are ignored, even though we are well known. We live close to death, but we are still alive. We have been beaten, but we have not been killed. Our hearts ache, but we always have joy. We are poor, but we give spiritual riches to others. We own nothing, and yet we have everything.”– 2 Corinthians 6:3-10
I have not come close to these trials. I do not live close to death, I have not been beaten within an inch of my life. Though the girls sometimes seem like an angry mob, they really aren’t. Obviously I needed to get over myself.
Though– I still can’t say “lavavajillas.”