friends.

Ever since Leme and Guesica learned that they were pregnant a few weeks ago, I've been anxious to see her. She's been so incredibly sick, it's been so incredibly hot, and I've been wanting to encourage our first-time mama friend.  Then, due to Jodenel's motorcycle accident and still being unable to walk or do stairs (to their second-story apartment in Cap-Haitian) and there being no fuel for Esther to come and go from work, Jodenel moved back home for care and Esther moved in with Leme and Guesica.  

Then I really couldn't stay away.  

With so little fuel and increasing roadblocks and protesting, we've hardly been anywhere we couldn't go by foot. But we convinced Matt to quit work a bit early, and we drove to the "maternity center" that's now Leme's home, and it was precious time.

Leme rents one floor of this house, and cares for it for the home-owner who lives in the States.

The third story roof-top has the best breeze and view!

But the best spot in the house was sitting on the floor with Guesica, laying on her mat, with Esther's swollen feet up on a chair and catching up with these dear women while Lily and Sofie cooked with Leme's dear mom, and Nora ran around the little yard with Ben. We talked about all things baby and brought lots of Lily-Sofie-Nora-Ben's baby things to be passing down and talked about everyone's jobs and schools and families and Matt, as always, had us all in stitches, mostly teasing us all. 

I am so thankful for these dear friends, in the middle of such hard things, because they love us well and let us be family. They don't dress up for us, don't go all out, and don't insist we sit on their chairs while they sit on the floor, don't say what they think they should.  You know...they are friends. 

And for all the encouraging I poured out on those precious ones, without fail I always leave more encouraged.  Going where people are is important.  We six needed it, and so did they.

It was a joy to be OUT and with friends, and to have precious non-work time with our family, too.  

Keep on praying for Gues and Leme, for Esther and Jodenel, for their precious children, and for Haiti, lives being transformed and impacted through godly, transformed men and women like these.  

On the way home we stopped at the gas station.  Not for gas, of course, because there is is is none, but I was hoping we could find a few bars of soap or a few canned goods in the little store.  Not much luck today, 45 expired cans of spinach, warm coke and the same jar of browning mayonaise next to the same can of sardines that have been there for months. Nonetheless, I found a bottle of much-needed shampoo and some barely-expired fish fry seasoning.

 A chair held the door open, and the computer that always checks us out was down, the gaggle of employees always chatting with me down to one very solemn woman.

No power. No gas. 

You know there is no gas when the gas stations--that exist simply to have and sell gas--not only have no gas to sell, but have run out of enough fuel even to run their own generator. 

The fuel and the condition of the roads and the country and the problems and the children all sitting at home, it all just threatens to choke you out.  

But we'd just spent such good time with such Light.  

It shines brighter.