on counting to ten

I’m having trouble with my host dad.

I fear for my own temper, whose force I know all too well. I’m praying fervently for self-control, for humility and the ability to be gracious.

Psalm 17:1-2
Hear, O Lord, my righteous plea; listen to my cry. Give ear to my prayer – it does not rise from deceitful lips. May my vindication come from you; may your eyes see what is right.

I love David. No matter how dark the night, he always remembers to bring it back to God.

May I do the same.

Love always,
molly

and my weary heart

Yesterday was a good day.

I've been feeling the lack of God-time in my life lately. Haven't been to church since I've been in Spain; how long is that now? 5 weeks? Too long. The Inn started on Tuesday this week, and I wanted to be there. I wanted to hear The R welcome everyone in that jovial tone he always has, and I miss the conviction I always feel after one of his sermons.

It's mostly my own fault (and possibly Spain's for being intensely Catholic) that I haven't been to church this whole time; I haven't really looked for a place to go. But this week, I have a destination: Calle Marianista Cubillo, 3, Cadiz 11008. A tiny little church, Josh said, with great people. Here's hoping.

But that's not why yesterday was good. Yesterday was good because the day before yesterday (seriously, in Spanish, that's so much easier to say: "anteayer." 8 letters. "Day before yesterday." Okay, I'm not going to count, but Mike Johnson could if he wanted. Needless to say, it's more than 8. Boo English.) I talked with Emily Vancil from the Inn, and she told me what they're studying this quarter, and we set up a little Bible study for me. Plus accountability - I read what the Inn is reading, and then e-mail her my thoughts, so I have a structured reason to do it. God, thank you for Emily Vancil.

So yesterday (ayer = 4 letters = winner) I went out and sat on the beach with my Bible (oh, side note, I had a nightmare anteayer that my Bible, the one I've had since 3rd grade that has 11 years of notes and highlightered-ness in it, was totally ruined - cigarette burns that made holes straight through it, torn up; it was awful) and turned to Mark 1:1.

I like Mark. He jumps right into when Jesus starts his mission, unlike Matthew, who gives us a complete geneology before getting to the story. But no hatin' on Matt; I like him too. He's quite highlighted in my Bible.

Continuamos. I read, and wrote down what I thought of it, and ate Milka chocolate, and stared off into the horizon as the sun was coming down. And remembered to pray before I started.

I love sitting in the sand in my jeans (versus a bathing suit). I feel like I live here now.

I'm going back out after lunch. We'll see if Mark shows me anything new today.

Love always,
molly

hola, qué tal, bien?

New blog.

Yep.

No palabras rotas in the URL.

Check.

I have consistent Internet in my kitchen.

Sweet.

Love always,
molly