Some days I just want to run to the store or do my errands and not run into anyone who knows me.
I don't want to be rude I just want to be invisible. Maybe it's the introvert in me. Maybe it is a holdover from the five years of being the only black woman in the region we lived in back in Russia. There are days when it is obvious that the feeling of always being on stage hasn't fully left me yet.
But then there are days like yesterday.
I went to the post office to pick up a package from a blogging friend
who was sweet enough to bless us with some treats and Christmas ornaments.
As soon as I walk in one of the workers in the back looks up at me and smiles. She walks toward me with a piece of mail that had our first address on it here in Belmopan. The man at the counter is waiting on someone else when I enter. He goes to get that person's package and mine at the same time. I have not even given my name or shown him my paperwork yet. When my turn comes he gets me out of there in record time. Thanking him, I turn to leave, smile, and God reminds me of the benefits of being recognized.
It is not about being on display.
It is about being a part of a community.
And we are truly blessed indeed to be able to live and serve here.