Briana (jengalill) wrote,
Briana
jengalill

Hoping and praying and watching and waiting

The house smells like fresh paint and home-made apple pie- nearly ready to come out of the oven. There are 6 quarts of applesauce in the fridge ready for pressure canning, made from organic apples foraged from a tree down town.

The house looks like it's been shot at and hit as we rearrange our entire home room by room, squeezing out square footage for a nursery. The house is abuzz with activity day and night between contractors, helpful family members and Dan and I doing our part each night after work.

In my down time, I am plugged into my computer, trying to learn Hindi to speak to a woman I hope to meet soon- a woman whose body and mind can do what mine cannot, and who we hope to repay by improving life for her family.

In a few hours, the sun will rise in India and the beaurocrats and legislators will continue their debates. And by the time they go home to their own families tomorrow, the sun will be rising here, and I will begin another long week of work to help make this all happen, checking the news every few hours with hopeful prayers that all the room we've made in our hearts and our home will be for a very good reason.
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