Unfortunately, I think I'm now an adult

I'll say this upfront, this is not a particularly happy post, is extremely personal, and does not contain information about my work here in Brazil.  So consider this point your parachute.  Jump out now if that's not your thing. I was planning for my next post to be a lovely recap of what I've been up to here; it was to be about how great it has been to settle into my new house, get the classes for the kids up and going, being involved in this new community, and celebrating a wonderful Lent and Easter while learning of the differences between my traditions and those found here.  But that is not seeming to be the case with this post. In my life, I've often joked that I have the true luck of the Irish.  By that, I mean, historically that they were often a conquered, subjugated, invaded, discriminated, or just all around unlucky group of people, and also a decent portion of my ancestors.  I wouldn't say that everyone in that group was suffering the absolute worst...

So, as is rather well known at this point, I'm in Brazil.  And what is one of the most famous things about Brazil? (no. not zika/dengue/chikungunya. and, yes, I'm wearing bug repellent and taking every recommended precaution) CARNAVAL!!!! Arguably the craziest party on Earth. So, how could I not head to Rio de Janeiro when I'm already in the country and have a friend there to stay with??? The view from the room I stayed in. So the evening I arrived, I went with Bryan (the YASCer in Rio for the year) and Ellen (the YASCer in Porto Alegre in south Brazil for the year) to the apartment of Bryan's priest, Rev Luiz. His apartment is in an old converted convent and was totally gorgeous! Sunflowers in front of the original convent windows Luiz told gave Bryan a key so we could come and go as we pleased, and invited us to join him and some friends for a "hike in the morning". The three of us talked it over and decided that we could go in the mor...

So I've been absent from the blog for a little while, and while this is obviously a post, I'm not sure I'd consider it a "real" post.  It's more of a "I promise I'm not dead" kinda deal. For starters, for most of the time since my last post, I was not doing anything that made for any spectacular reflections or photos.  I was on my own, mainly focused on my continuing Portuguese lessons. Obviously very important stuff for me, but also pretty boring blog fodder, so I've spared you.  Now I've hit a different stage, and I promise I'll get to the pictures and more exciting stuff I'm sure you want to hear about (moving out to Pedregal, going to Rio de Janeiro for Carnaval, and starting the school year) but these things are largely in process, so I don't feel at the moment there is time to adequately do them justice.  I think of this stage, these things, as part of the Making inherent to my time here. So, I'm well aware that ...

So a while ago, I saw a cartoon circulating my facebook feed: I think, like most people, I chuckled a bit and kept scrolling. But the other day, as we celebrated both a baptism, an anniversary of ordination, and the feast of Epiphany at a single service, I sang the quintessential song for the season: We Three Kings.  I know, try to contain your shock. I'm pretty sure I've sung this song every single Epiphany for my entire life. #CradleEpiscopalianProblems Somehow, though, when I sang it this time, fully realizing that most of the congregation probably doesn't understand much or any of what I was singing due to the antiquated vernacular of the English, it caused me to focus even more on the lyrics than just sounding them off by rote.   And the song, mentioning each gift and its intended use in turn, leads up to final verses discussing the pain, suffering, death, and resurrection of what is currently just a little baby.  And those of us who know the story well are t...