Life

We spent last week in another city, one that feels a lot like home for us. It was the first place we settled for awhile when we first came to India. It was so good to see familiar faces, both brown and white, and to catch up on the happenings in our dear friends' lives. The week flew too quickly and before we knew it, we found ourselves on the night train and on our way back home.

We came back to our city--one that had experienced unprecedented flooding and icy rain for days. Our landlady informed us, disapprovingly, that there had been no electricity coming to the apartment for days and no water. We climbed the stairs to find her absolutely correct. Our apartment was a dark, chilly cave. But, as usual, there were little sustaining mercies. The power came on for about 10 minutes once--just enough time to make a pot of (sorely-needed) coffee, and to check our e-mail. Then it was out again.

This lasted for about 36 hours, and then things righted themselves. The Lord is gracious and good all the time. We're washing and drying clothes now, watching the taps slowly begin to give full streams of water, and we're happy. Coming back to this city felt like coming home and we were grateful that our apartment sustained almost no damage from the rains.

Now I'm waiting for my homeschool curricula to arrive. The rains have slowed down the couriers. The kids are happy for the unexpected reprieve from phonics, history, and hand writing as we wait. I'll be back to studying my Hindi on my own again after quite a break. It pulls me back in, this language, like a giant invisible magnet, and I cannot stay away for too long.

Oldest Boy's birthday is on the 29th of this month and he eagerly awaits the momentous event--he's turning nine. But you'd think by his talk that he's turning 18. The kids are growing, our work is flourishing, and our hearts are changing, little by little.