october 14th

last night i met them. the beautiful family that inhabits apartment 201. i walked into the apartment, chest pounding with excitement/nerves and a smile that i could feel with my entire being. the days leading up to this one, i received numerous confirmations from the Lord that this was where i needed to be. my plans to move to africa, to be anywhere but here... were not at all what the Lord intended, and He made that clear. as much as i fought against it, as much as i hated the thought of staying stagnant [or so it seemed], i trust[ed] that He was sovereign.

walking into this apartment, i was greeted by the entire community, it seemed, all in kurundi [the dialect of swahili they speak]. they chattered at me and i just laughed silently with an "oh my goodness" look on my face. as they kept chattering, the mom [cosylia] stayed somewhat in the background. i think she was a bit hesitant to welcome a stranger into her home... and probably a little skeptical of this american girl with crazy hair. as i walk further into their home, i hear a baby crying. i look over and notice a tiny baby on the couch with an "i'm hungry" cry. those of you that know me, know that i inevitably resorted back to the familiarity of feeding a baby [some could say it was comfortable]. as i was feeding this baby [livela is her name], my heart still beating from entering into this unknown. i looked into her brown eyes and she looked right into mine, it seemed. it was then that i felt the Lord's peace. it seems cliche to say "all of my fear seemed to fade", but that was the case. i held her tight until her eyes got heavy, then i walked the 3-month old over to her bassinet [the legs of the bassinet were on the verge of buckling in]. cosylia is in the kitchen and she glances over and smiles, hesitantly, and says "tank you".

i sit down to help valeria [the 11 year old] with her homework... she hands me her paper and says "i hate math". i look at it and ask "can you get a peice of scratch paper and a pencil?" and she runs to get two sheets of notebook paper and a dull pencil. "do you have plenty of school supplies?", i ask. she replies "when my teacher give me some". we attempt to do her math in the dark [she insisted on doing it in the living room, despite the fact that there was no lighting other than the television].

everyone is gathered in the living room at this point; kids screaming, television blaring, cosylia and friends are speaking in kurundi... all while valeria attempts her math. we finally finish, after many failed attempt to get her to focus [how could she?]. i try to ask her a few question regarding life, in general. "do you have food?", i ask... she answers "we have food when our neighbors have leftovers"... she's distracted by listening to her mom's conversation... "she's talking about my father. he in jail. she is saying he might not come back home. he lost his job because he did not show up for work", "why didn't he show up for work?" i asked. "police pulled him over. he's in jail because he did not have li... license? i miss my father"

after talking with her for awhile, it's late and i say my goodbyes. the girls [4, 8 and 11 years] all get their shoes on. i ask them why and they say "we will walk you to your car... it's dangerous".

love,
elizabeth