It’s been a week since I last posted. That’s the longest I’ve gone without writing since starting this blog back in February. Even as I sat down to write this, I feel a little at a loss. Not necessarily for any words, but for the right words.

Researchers have shown that women speak about 20,000 words a day (which is 13,000 more than our average male counterpart, by the way). I spent the better part of last week using an entire months’ worth of my daily word-allotment at the CAFO Summit in Chicago.

My husband essentially put me on a plane on Tuesday with this single admonition: go get us some help.

So I went from booth to booth, and workshop to workshop, trying to share our story and find someone who might decide we have a cause worth supporting, a mission worth joining. By the end of the week, I had gotten my entire spiel down to about 5-10 minutes, which is huge given I’m covering a 10-year span.

And now I’m spent. I’m all talked out. And yet I have so many thoughts floating around my brain I know I will have plenty to say in the weeks to come… only at the current moment I am still trying to figure it all out. My mind has been on overdrive with so much stimulation (not to mention the fact that everyone was speaking English and I could flush the toilet paper), and I’m now working through the mental confusion to find that perfect peace.

My kids, on the other hand, are having the opposite problem. They haven’t been to school in almost a month, due to the continued seismic activity here and the fact that 110 schools were damaged enough to require repairs before reopening. So they’ve been forced to study their assignments on their own at home, in an attempt to keep the learning going even while we can’t meet in the school buildings. It’s been a lonely road as they’ve been relegated to their rooms with books and papers and computers, but no other students or instructors.

Then last night I got a call that changed their isolation. Some of the parents were trying to find homes where each grade level could meet with their teacher(s). Would we host the sixth grade? Of course! So today, I had to wake up the girls at 6:30am, the earliest in almost four weeks. My oldest met her class in the nearby home of another school family, and the sixth grade held class in our dining room (I knew that chalkboard wall would come in useful at some point!).

It is truly a joy to hear all of the students using their daily word allotment again — even in the midst of the chaos and confusion that seems to pervade our lives here — to learn and connect with those around them, and to be encouraged by the God of peace.

It’s a great reminder to me, too, as I’m trying to navigate everything I heard, saw, and felt last week. I’m grateful that no matter when our kids are able to return to the school building, and no matter who contacts me or doesn’t contact us in response to hearing our plight, our Father brings comfort to all who are afflicted, and peace out of all confusion.