When I studied theology and the bible for my university years, I don't think I would have ever imagined sitting here today in Spain, clutching my laptop on a Sunday morning, telling you about what this strange life is like.

    This last week, I found myself wandering the coast of Spain in two different directions with my reluctant-to-be-called boss, Miguel Angel. The first journey on Wednesday took us to a town called Albunol, where we finally signed in the notary for a home that we initially began selling in February.

    Like many country homes, it had been added to, and it was not reflected in what we call the nota simple, or simple deed, that is reflected in the public record. In order for a home sale to occur, this doesn't usually present a problem, except when the buyers wish to mortgage the home.

    Even though these buyers were already in their 60s, they felt the need to take out a mortgage and thus began the months of descending into the Spanish bureaucratic hell of surveying the house, getting the town to approve, the neighbors a chance to lodge a complaint, and more. From Start to Finish it took us from March to the end of Sept and then they had to start the papers for the mortgage, and I thought my 70-year-old plus sellers were going to stroke out.

    The last day in the notary was just as painful, and it took almost three hours of arm-flapping, the notary losing papers and our minds. Finally, when we signed, and paid, we still had to track down the old deed and by the end of the morning, all we wanted was to go home and find a stiff drink.

    I walked into the home, and Andrew was with Sofi, their weekly business consultant meeting. They do about 50% online and 50% in person and they hadn't done and in person in weeks, so here she was. I walked in, hugged them both, and begged Andrew for some wine. He was so sweet and brought me and Sofi a glass as we sat on the couch and I told them the drama.

    You see, this moment of pause, reflection, and celebration is so vital for our mental and spiritual selves. There are so many good moments, and we often neglect to pause and be thankful and grateful and joyful in them, that the horrible moments, of which we have all lived way too many in the last three years, have overwhelmed us all.

    The next day we closed on another coastal flat and then ran down to the coast to sell another house. We don't know if that part worked yet or not, but it was lunchtime, and fried fish and beer called our name. Miguel Angel and I sat and ate and drank and reveled in the late autumn sun of over 20 degrees. It was glorious. And we both needed another pause to celebrate and drink in life. We missed Cristina and Andrew who love to celebrate with us, our partners in life, but there will be more later.

    One of the most amazing things of the last 2 and 1/2 years is the fact that God has sent me an Angel, Miguel Angel to work with. He has accepted my faults and good sides, and we have worked together, we have made mistakes, gotten upset at each other, angry with each other, stressed, laughed, cried, and suffered. We do not always agree, but it's ok, because love conquers all, and it's patient and kind.

    He and his sister and his partner, Cristina, have opened up their arms and adopted us. We've been in each other's homes to eat, eaten in countless places in Granada, swam in the Med, hiked the mountains, and sweated it out in the notary offices and banks of Granada.

    All of these events and things, we have spoken of everything, but one thing that has been far away, and I haven't pushed it, is what I believe. See, I think that faith is intensely personal, and what I have, may show up differently in other people's lives, even if in theory, we believe the same things.

    And after beer and fish, as we wandered our way back up the mountain to Granada, we began to speak of my experience of faith, alongside Andrew as well. One of the things that still surprises me is the whole story of the last organized church we belonged to, and one of the things for me that was the straw that broke the camel's back, was how my husband was treated.

    I'm again, not going to name names or talk about exactly who or where or when it all happened, but after time, I realized that several of the men in the congregation had decided already that Andrew was not worth their time or effort. He intimidated them, he called them to do better than they were doing, and he challenged them to go higher, and push harder and faster than they were prepared to do. Until there was a point where we were told that this group of persons was not mature enough to handle what Andrew had to offer.

    For me, as his wife, this was it. Finito. I get that both of us are a handful, but there are places that we do fit and where I have found in real estate and Andrew is finding in the artistic world, we fit. And our deepest desire is to find these places and shine as brightly as possible the concept that God cares for us, and loves us, and wants us to do the same. 

    You see, for many people raised as Christians, being one is fitting into the in crowd at whatever church or congregation or small group you belong to. Feeling important and the center of attention is placed as high regard. Being a leader or a pastor or elder or deacon or even a missionary is what people consider to have arrived at spiritually and the highest calling as a Christian.

    I disagree. It's easy to hang out with people of similar values and ideas and concepts. Even someone moaned to Andrew last month about an impending move of job and state and said, "its just that where we are now, we all agree with everyone." *extreme eye roll.

    If we truly believe in Jesus, and God's love, this is not the end all be all of our faith and spiritual experience. Jesus hung out with terrorists,(anti-establishment) and tax collectors (establishment) fishermen (blue collar) and rich people like Martha and Mary (white collar) He talked to Jews and Samaritans (Evangelicals and Catholics) and those who hated religion (atheists) and those who were religious leaders (pastors, clerics and priests). He healed Roman's servant (utter pagans who didn't really care much for the gods) and the Greek woman (people who worshipped all the gods with pagan rituals, i.e.lots of orgies and sex).

    And how did he do it? He lived. He breathed, and talked, and walked and healed and gave away a lot of food changed the water into wine and raised the dead and touched people. He fought with the religious leaders and told people it was about an invisible Kingdom for now and tomorrow. He ate with people and told them great feasts were to come for those who loved God, their neighbors, and themselves. He told people to live in peace, not war, and love their enemies. He told people to pick each other up on the side of the road when they were damaged, hurt, and dying, and make sure they get better.

    He didn't create groups of people to live only together and critique everyone else. He didn't tell everyone that they had to think the same way. He didn't condemn guilt or shame anyone other than religious leaders. Even when his own friends turned away, he still loved them. and Forgave them, after when he rose from the dead, he even ate fish and bread (and probably beer) on the beach with them again.

    So, in few words than this, I told Miguel Angel on that ride up from the beach, that my job wasn't to convert him, but he filled the blanks in for me as he said, "but you are to live your live as an example so others can see."

    Right. He took the words outta my mouth. Love never has to preach, it just has to exist and all the world will know us by our love.