Two Years

Some days, I feel discouraged.

Just as I’d begun finding freedom from sound-related PTSD triggers, we’ve spent weeks navigating something new — smoke drifting daily from nearby trash burning, from morning till evening.

Some days, I wonder: Why are we here? Is this healthy? Is this sustainable?

But perhaps healing isn’t the absence of hardship. Perhaps it’s learning, slowly, to move from paralysis to agency. To do what we can. To advocate where we’re able. And to remain faithful, even in imperfect seasons.

And just like that,
our kids have graduated from another year of class.

We’ve been here for two years in this little African town 🥹