10 Hours Without Water

A white note hung around the door knob when I came home from the store last week. 
"Please do not use water during the hours of: 8am to 6pm on 4/27/17," it proclaimed. 

The note explained that our local government was contracted to repair pipes in our neighborhood, thus resulting in our sewage connection being temporarily sealed off.   Full cooperation was necessary to avoid backup of sewer water into our home.  Um, yep, we'll comply.  Seriously, who wants unflushed toilet water spewing into their home?
But I also realized it was an inconvenience of sorts, especially when a toddler is potty training and mounds of laundry have piled in the washer and heaping dishes in the sink, waiting for a simple swoosh of water to usher them into cleanliness.
 
     While I held the note in my hands and began to ponder those complaining thoughts, I was swiftly silenced by a clear, plastic container filled with clanking coins on the counter.  The word "water" delicately written on the container by my 10-year-old in red sharpie caught my eye and transported my thoughts to the land of South Sudan.  Twice a month a group of 5th grade girls gather after school to bond, laugh together and grow in their faith. They recently wanted to help others and connected with a book they'd read, chronicling a boy's long, incredibly difficult journey in South Sudan to find safety and

water in an eventual refugee camp in Kenya.  The girls decided to fill up their containers with change to help bring water and food to those in South Sudan. 
Famine.
Destitution.
This is South Sudan's every day.  
Instead of 10 hours without water, those mamas are clamoring for 10 hours with water at any point in the entire year.
Instead of wondering how laundry will get done, they are hoping for a place to call home.
Instead of trying to decide what to have for dinner, they are praying for manna from heaven or termites to hatch, or something, anything.  
 
I spent the 27th appreciating the little things and praying for and broken hearted for the millions that are struggling to find a simple meal and life-giving water.  I wish I could transport the never-ending spring of water in my neighbor's backyard to the parched land in dire need of a break. There's so many things in this world I don't understand and break my heart, but today served as a fresh reminder to look outside the walls of my own home into a world that so desperately needs Hope and the promise that it won't always be this way.  Even if a small drop in the enormous bucket of need, so thankful for the girls who will send their own money (and others who've contributed!) in a few weeks to help in a small way. 
At 6:10pm, the faucets poured water, and I'm more grateful than ever for the basics of life and reminded once again to never take it for granted.  

Going Back to Cali

"A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow."

― William Shakespeare

Time hadn’t passed.  It couldn’t have.  It felt so normal.  Yet the calendar’s reality has flipped through three years of time in between.  But isn’t it beautiful when you sit in the presence of those who know you so well that you don’t have to start at the beginning, and your heart feels rest-full? 

My words don’t come easily when I think about our time in California.  Three short years passed since we departed with heartaches of goodbyes from the sun-kissed land for the north’s green trees and rainbows, and we decided it was time to venture south once again for a brief visit.  Driving away that March day in 2014 was terribly difficult.  The unknown that lay before us didn’t help my planning mind rest, but we believed God had opened a door.  So, we walked through it.  Even though we knew we were right where we needed to be, the first year was filled with challenges.  Throw in a bonus pregnancy and baby and no house to call home in the interim, and the idea of missing those who knew me dug into the core of my being. And I was missing their lives. These were heart friends who knew me deeply, and had come around us in hard times and celebrated alongside up in good times.  They welcomed our babies, cheered from the sidelines, and encouraged my head to keep looking up even when life threw a curve ball, or two, or three. 

To sit with these dear ones this past week even ever so briefly was precious, and reminded me that wherever life takes us there are those along the way that will always be part of our journey.  

And at the same time, I stare at my present world, and am blown away by the people God’s given us.  And this quote rings true, “Friendship isn’t about who you’ve known the longest.  It’s about who walked into your life and said, ‘I’m

here for you and proved it.’”

Feeling grateful for the silver and gold friends of life who continue to prove it.