Precious Life

So one of my closest friends went into labour two months early last week. We all held our breath as little Zara entered the world in such a fragile state with pneumonia.

We prayed and lost sleep and called one another constantly. Hoping and waiting. I even got mad at God that an infection had invaded her wee little body.

That all changed when my friends asked me to use my pastor credentials to visit her in intensive care. And I thought that card was only good for book discounts...

It was absolutely precious. Zara and I held hands (her hand is the size of my pinky) while I talked to her and I started to pray she closed her eyes even more shut. Her tiny little chest heaved up and down. We adopted a song as auantie and niece,

¨This peace that I got, it isn't 'cuz all is well. This peace that I go, is 'cuz I follow the one who is faithful. So I won't look at the circumstances, oh no. I'll be looking at his love...¨

As I left she puckered her lips as if to kiss me good-bye.

¡Happy Un-Birthday!

We were belting out the happiest un-birthday song possible which was followed by un-hugs and un-birthday blessings and an un-cake...ahem, a real cake. Let's not joke about chocolate. Alas, it was a perfect Sunday afternoon.

I smile thinking about the amazing young people in our budding church, La Fuente.

A few weeks later I was grasping for words in my Otomi language class, my newfound hobby. Oh...wait...How do you say ¨Happy Birthday?¨ I asked.

Silence filled the room. People looked back and forth at each other and then...laughter. Finally someone explained to me that in Otomi you don't have a birthday. They continued giggling and jabbering on about me in a language still very foreign.

I smile thinking about my amazing friends...who think I'm crazy.

Un-birthdays. Gotta' love 'em. Makes you want to enjoy each day a wee bit more.