My Life as an African Gypsy

I asked my husband the other night, "Will we ever stay in one place?" His answer was, "We are gypsies!" I decided I don't want to be a gypsy forever. Or maybe even for long...

I think this whole living out of bags, being without a kitchen, sleeping in strange beds, etc. has begun to wear on me. I feel unsettled, and the honest problem is that I am not sure when we may "settle". This hasn't just been the case since we got to Africa, but since we left for Portugal... and even a bit since we have been married.

Yeah, yeah, I know the whole "the Lord is preparing you" and "He is shaping you" and all that jazz. I even believe it! But during this process, many times I am an emotional basket case. And the trouble with this is that my poor husband has to live with me!

I go from crying without reason to laughing and wanting to be playful. One moment everything irritates me and the next I want to snuggle. I asked him just last night, "Do you think I am crazy?" He just, "Just a tiny tiny can of crazy." I love him.

I think there is hope though. Someday I will have a place to call home... at least I keep telling myself this cannot go on forever. Right?

In the meantime, my hubby is getting practice for when I become pregnant. After all this, it will be a piece of cake for him.