I stood at the gate that secured our community and waited for the guard to open it for me. It’s 5am. We both waved as the gate groans open and I escape into the dark morning for another relaxing run. I pass manholes with no covers, a garbage bag that had been tossed onto the road, and the local Costco on this part of my run. A mile later, I enter the Bayamon bike path and begin the fairy book part of my run by the river. Greetings are exchanged as I pass by the few fellow early risers who are beating the suns pounding. As I pass through the tree-covered area of this peaceful trot, the fairy tale turns into a minor tune as I dodge bats flying directly at my body. My scientific knowledge of their sonar power means nothing as they fly directly toward my head. So far, no hard hits have happened, yet my belly tightens with each spotting. I turn back to head home and exchange verbal hellos to the guard that always makes sure I make it home each day.

Breakfast is put together for Barrett, lunch set out, and hot coffee is poured into his travel mug. We pray and say goodbye and off he goes for his day’s journey. I read my bible, pray for patience and kindness toward my kids, and set to my own breakfast before the trio breaks the silence.

Butts are wiped, clothes are donned, and Annabelle emerges with hair eschewed and sleep still on her face. Another day has begun.

Meals are cooked, eaten, and cleaned. Math, Reading, Writing, are completed and history, science, and Latin sentences are sung. Time outs are given when screams go too far, another meal cooked, eaten, and cleaned. Naps come, butts wiped, diaper bags tossed, and playtime begins. We all head to the covered park and I text some friends to come. The adults attempt to chat while the kids scream at toys not being shared and bruises from curiosity chases going awry. We visit until the cries can’t be tempered or dinner needs to be made. Off to our homes we go for the last meal of the day.

All three kids hang by my feet in the kitchen while I try and pivot during my prep and again, tears are had when space is invaded. Barrett comes home and the kids run and cry, “DADDY”! Then daddy comes into the kitchen and swings kids by ankles while they peal with laughter. Meal is had, devotions read, and a song is sung. Twins go up to bed and Annabelle reverses her morning routine in order to be ready for bed so she can watch the ipad for a short time. She heads to bed, a story is read, another song sung, and a prayer is prayed before her light goes out. I head downstairs, grab ice cream and heavily fall on the couch. I managed one tv show before collapsing to bed.

These are the days of our lives. Each day has a nuisance: a bible study, Annabelle going to school, Ronnie and Lydia having a class, a volleyball night, another bible study, grocery shopping, church, or a Costco run. I’d love to say that living in Puerto Rico is glamorous and filled with adventures, yet this season is sometimes simply staying awake and alive till the end of the day. We desire to love our neighbors and love our Lord…the bare basics of life. We fail…I fail…more often than I care to admit, but this community living where we do life together as families, has been such an encouragement. I have found that living our messy lives out loud together, actually encourages us to live better: to seek the Lord more regularly, to forgive frequently, to be forgiven and restored afresh, and to pray often.

Now, the twins are up, so fun will be had.