I'm sitting in a hammock in my bedroom, writing by lamplight, both of which are new additions to my room since Christmas, that serve to make it more homey.
Although it's been awhile since I've written, life has not ceased. The first week back after Christmas I went to the orphanage with my friend Amanda. It was a busy night in the baby house, as always seems to be the case... Supper time, so I was sitting in a rocking chair in the baby-est of all the rooms (the room with the youngest babies) feeding a sweet little one. Right next to my chair was a crib with two babies in it, laying side by side, apparently for lack of crib space, because all of the cribs were full. One of the babies in the crib was an African Ecuadorian girl, with dark skin, and the other was a Latino Ecuadorian boy with lighter skin. The girl was fussing a bit, so the boy reached his hand out to her. She grabbed on and immediately calmed down. The two of them laid playing with each other's hands... they found profound comfort in each other. A significant time later, still holding on to each other's hands, the girl fell asleep and her hand went motionless and fell out of his grip. He still stared at her and kept his hand extended towards her, just waiting for her to wake up and regrasp it. It reminded me of the comfort I find in the hand of Jesus, and even when I'm doing my own thing, He is reaching His hand out towards me with the utmost patience and love, just waiting for me to reach back. Watching this was so beautiful.