It's Monday morning and the mountain of laundry that's accumulated from our large brood calls, but again there is no water. So glad God made me flexible-no danger of Type A perfectionism. Last week our water pressure was so high is threatened to explode the pipes that shook and sang ominous groans from the closet where our water heater hides. With flashlights, Harold and our neighbor Kyle searched for a valve to turn down the pressure before we had an indoor flood. That pressure must have finally exploded something further up the line so that we are now without water again. It's been a battle of on again-off again thanks to cows who trampled the line, sticks and mud from the resevoir that plug it, a constantly washing road where the pipes are buried just below the surface and often lay uncovered while heavy buses run over them on their way to deliver tired workers from the city to their homes further up the mountain. I am learning to be grateful for the days when everything works as planned. I get up and the power is on, there is water, my internet line means I can touch base with family in the states... other days I am more aware that this IS the third world and most people here live without those things.
Over the weekend I had the blessing of attending a few sessions of a conference for missionary ladies. It was wonderful to sing and pray together. Again I was aware of God's grace for the many who are tired and beaten down.The enemy is very active against marriages, children,health...and Joy. So we cried together and prayed together and recognized that our Father still loves us though we are far from perfect. It was refreshing to just participate in something planned for me by a group of ladies I don't even know.....God knew how many were in need of a loving touch "with skin on."
So this morning I search for this neglected corner of cyberspace since I cannot do those things that seem most necessary. ( I think I may break down and use drinking water for dishes-my family will need to eat today.) Perhaps I will map out a plan of attack for the week. We have discovered that we will be moving again, the week before Christmas. At least this one should be the last for a while. We will be right on campus. It's exciting. And a little scary. Anyone ever been in a fishbowl? But the house there doesn't leak, there aren't steps, it's so close for Harold and the kids, the guard makes rounds... We have to give up our dog, who is more a person than a pet. We will all adjust and will do our Christmas in two places again.
Harold has begun classes for a Master's in Education. He's excited to learn more about this process we are part of and the counseling end will help him in his role as chaplain. He will visit over Thanksgiving with our family in TN-a bittersweet time as we recognize that his parents are beginning the last leg of their journey home. We will miss him and wish we could also visit. Nayt will come from MI, while Ben visits the week before. It's also hard to realize that letting go involves our kids too. The boys will spend their holidays stateside this year. Perhaps that is why God is moving us at Christmas. I will be too busy to have much time to grieve.
So for now, I will close this rambling and attend to the need at hand as best I can. And gratefulness will make me focus on the Giver...
-a stove that WORKS!
-my chatty companion
-hours in a book just for fun
-ladies' voices lifted in praise
-a new home coming
-opportunity to spend time with parents
-provision to get a letter postmarked in time
-little girl who converses in two tongues
-company roast and shared conversation
-birthday reminders of love
