November 3, 2013

I don't know what to write about...

I could write about how we have finally gotten our two-year visas, after a year and a half of paperwork and way too many unsuccessful, 4 hour trips to the capital and back. (Who knew a little stamp in your passport would be so hard to get, and have so much power?)

I could write about how Collin ran in a 10K race organized by our Community Service class, which raised money to fix a local school’s roof.

I could write about how my friend, Kaylee, came to visit us for a week, and how it was the first time we have been able to spend more than a couple days together in about three years. And how we went to the hot springs, 

and we made pancakes for the shoeshine boys in the park with InnerChange, 

and we baked and we talked and we really enjoyed our quality time together.

I could write about how it was All Saints Day on Friday, so Collin didn't have school. 

And how we ate traditional “fiambre” (a meat and vegetable salad), and we went to the cemetery to look at the flowers,

and to fly kites.

I could write about how today was the Xela Half Marathon, so we watched people run past us for an hour so that we could cheer them on, including the man in a cow suit and another man dressed up like Jack Sparrow.

I could write about how I can’t count the number of times women have come up to me and told me that Jocelyn is going to get sick from the cold, or from me having her “in the street” at such a young age. And how on a 75 degree, sunny day, one of these women had her entire face wrapped in a scarf. And how to avoid judgment on these 75 degree, sunny days, I have to make sure she is wearing a hat and is wrapped in at least three blankets.

But I could also write about how Guatemalans of all ages adore children. And how it is a Psalm 127 culture, where “children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him,” and “blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.” And how people here teach their children to greet everyone, including the babies still in their mom’s tummy. And how so many men, women, and children come up to us so they can kiss and coo at Jocelyn, and tell me how beautiful she is. And how the birthday party we went to last night for a three year old turned into a worship service, celebrating children and praising God for the wonderful gift that they are.

I could write about how Jocelyn is three months old today. And how she is 13 lbs. 11 oz., and 25 inches long. (In other words, she has sky-rocketed off the charts here.) And how she is a very happy, content baby. 

And I could tell you how parenting, the thing I feared and worried about for 9 months prior to her birth, has now become one of the greatest joys of my life. And how I am so thankful for the gift of another month of life with Jocelyn in our care.

But I don’t know what to write about.

Grace and Peace,