Waiting time

I realized I haven't been writing a ton lately, due somewhat to busyness and somewhat to not a lot going on. The days seem to whirl by and although I'm not to that point in pregnancy yet where I'm dying for the baby to come- I do kinda expect her at any moment. There seems to be lots of little projects here and there to complete before our lives change forever, but as is typical in Bolivia, you can never get everything done you want to get done as fast as you want it done. However, we did manage to finish our prenatal classes tonight and even take home an exercise ball, on loan from the center, to work with before and during labor. That's one of those things that once you complete, you feel more prepared to actually take care of a baby and realize there's nothing left to wait for! I've had all my showers, I've got baby's bag packed (but not mine) and now I'm just getting the "how are you feeling?", "is there any progression?" phone calls from time to time. The closer the day comes, the more I want to cherish every second Scotty and I have together before the responsibility of a baby.

We have a young girl come to the house once a week to help me clean in the afternoon. Her name is Eugenia, she is 13, and lives very close to us. We met at church and I quickly realized she was an out-going, self-starter who seemed quite interested in learning more about the Bible. We thought she'd be perfect to come help out at the house, especially cause she lives so close, and I hope to be able to help her grow in her faith through that time as well. We were talking on Tuesday about her family and I offered for Scotty and I to stop by to meet her parents and invite her to church. I think it is fairly common for a lower class family to feel uncomfortable about showing up at a church where foreigners attend, but personal invitations go a long way. Tonight after prenatal class, we drove partway down an insanely craggy road that only the Landcruiser could handle (and only in 4-wheel drive), and then carefully plodding our way in the dark, trying not to twist any ankles or get bitten by protective dogs, we arrived at the small brick house where Eugenia lives. Scotty made the comment that it's built exactly like the little house on our piece of land, which is usually constructed temporarily to house building supplies, and then demolished. I was feeling very apprehensive, not knowing if Eugenia would be home and how we would be received by her parents- we were definitely out of our element. But, fearless Scotty encouraged me to not turn back and he knocked on the door while I worried we were at the wrong house and at any moment one of the yappy dogs would signal to a wary resisdent that 2 gringos were standing awkwardly at the door. Thankfully, Eugenia came out with a big smile on her face, informed us that her mom had not gotten home yet, but her dad was there. She led us into her room, about half the size of the house- a small, cement space with 2 simple beds and nothing on the walls. She shares it with her brother. It's not the first time I've been in a house like that, but it's the first time I've been in one in my own neighborhood and realizing afresh what a different world Eugenia enters into when she comes to clean my house (and why her skills are not as refined as I'd often like them to be). I'm not sure what to do with these thoughts and what role God will have me play in her life- but it was good to be reminded of what I have, by the grace of God, and challenged to be involved somehow in the life of those who have less.