Redefining Me.

The snow is coming. A few flakes fluttered down this past Thursday. Besides the dread of bad roads and cold that bites the skin, I am relishing the brusque air and the way it leaves the trees radiating the hues of autumn. Slippers grace my feet and the woodstove glows every evening. The smell of apples cooking in pies, cakes, and muffins is synonymous with the season and my mom's efforts to meet my dad's not-so-subtle hints for apple treats. All the sights and smells bleed familiarity and entice me with their sweetness. There is no shortage of goodness in my life.

Life is good but my bleeding heart still grieves. I miss Bolivia.

In Bolivia, I know who I am. I'm Marge. Marge, the master of pizza on Tuesday nights and queen of Shepherd's pie for Friday lunch, who brought groups of girls to Hotel Flamingo and taught them about Jesus, prayer, and how to play a game of Hearts. Marge baked and hosted anyone and everyone who wanted to come for a visit, share a meal, or use the Internet for awhile. Marge would whip up to the airport to pick up a team, lead them through the sights and work of Santa Cruz, and send the group back home with a desire to come back for more. Marge plucked out silly songs with her limited guitar skills and longed to show love to children who were more familiar with the back of a hand than a stroke of affection on the face.

There is no Marge in Canada.

But there is an Auntie 'M'. There is a daughter blessed by parents who care for and provide for her. There is a sister who's brothers and their wives show undeserved admiration and support. There is a friend, although she be changed, who appreciates and savours the laughs and memories of years past. Sara Groves sings,"I've been painting pictures of Egypt, leaving out what it lacked, the future feels so hard and I want to go back. But the places that used to fit me can not hold the things I've learned." A return to Bolivia would be fabulous. It would also be an escape from the difficulties that face me here. I just want to fit better in this present place.

Lord, make me a servant. Take me as you find me, all my fears and failures. Lord, fill my life again.