Hey, it's me. The one you won't be hearing much from the next two weeks or so.
The one who's been in West Africa for eleven months today.
The one who (also today) hit the half-way point of the French program.
The one who just got a package from home, chock-full of fun things. (Thank you Mom and Grandma and sister and Amazon and...!)
The one who needs to go to bed SOON.
But she has things to post before she says a temporary goodbye to her blog. :)
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A friend and I are going through a study. Ish. Anyway, when I saw this (the underlined part), I thought of my mom. She doesn't necessarily have a long list of "works", but she has modeled walking with the Lord and growing in faith. She's not out to impress anyone with all that she can do for the Lord. She quietly serves Him, her family, and others around her.
I am thankful for that legacy. And when I'm tempted to say yes to too many things, I remember it's not the doing I should be focused on, it's the being, the believing.
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Friday evening there was a wedding reception (the groom is from my church here).
Since the reception wasn't far from my place, Anna and Michi came over to get ready.
It was an outdoor reception. Lovely for pictures...before it got dark, that is.
I have no idea what that picture was supposed to be of, but...nice blur, Michael!
Little Michael was in a don't-take-my-picture mood that night.
He refused to look at the camera or smile.
Another Hailah-blur shot. For the collection. ;)
Another unsuccessful attempt to coax a smile out of Michael...
Dancing to the beat of his own (imaginary) drum. Or something.
The dilemma: no flash or...
After what seemed like forever, the couple (Patrick and Christabel, in case you're wondering what their names are) finally arrived.
Ugh, could I seriously not manage to get a better shot of them? Apparently not. In my defense, the light (or lack thereof) made things really hard.
Everyone stood in line to congratulate the couple. Took for.ev.er.
At the end of the night, I was so happy to take these off.
At the end of the night, I was really tired.
At the end of the night, my legs were polka-dotted with three dozen mosquito bites. Yes, I counted the next day. Most bites I've had at one time in my entire life (for real! I hardly ever get bit.). I was thankful they hardly itched, and hoped none of the mosquitoes happened to be carrying malaria. (Side note: Natalie, I had to chuckle when I opened the package from my Mom and saw all the bug repellent wipes you'd sent. It sure would have been nice to have those Friday evening!)
At the end of the night, I...
Okay, I'll stop.
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It'll be interesting to see if this stuff works.
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You have no idea how excited I was to cook a batch of beans in a proper pot (i.e. one big enough that I don't have to add water every 20 minutes to keep the bottom from scorching). Recognize this pot, Hannah?
I took a picture and thought happy thoughts about how a pot of beans was nicer than a pot of gold, how beans cooking reminded me of home, how much I loved Mexican food, etc., etc.
After three hours of simmering, something not-so-happy happened. No, no, I didn't burn them. I just discovered that...well...I'm not the only one crazy about beans. The little critters weren't evident until the beans had cooked long enough for the skin to split open. Ick.
I had a moment of panic when I realized I was going to have to dump the whole pot and company was coming in an hour. "Oh no, now what do I do?!"
Plan B. (Which included running to the gas station for a can of beans and a few other things.)
And company wasn't the wiser. Unless they're reading this post...
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Sunday evening, I decided I was going to make it an early night. I had a long week staring me in the face and figured the best thing to do was wash up my dishes and go to bed. So I washed the dishes, and when I'd just finished drying the last one...
POP! The faucet came off. Like, broke off. Not came unscrewed. Broke-off-and-couldn't-be-stuck-back-on-and-water-was-gushing-out.
Now, I've never been one to play the "single girl" card, but sometimes, you just gotta ask for help. And this was one of those times. So I called Muriel, and Rick came over and turned the water off (which means no water in the apartment until the plumber comes and replaces the faucet).
So much for an early night.
Not tonight either...