Lost and Found

I realized today that it really does take a village. I was recalling the fact that so many of our neighbors helped out while I had to go to many doctors appointments to follow up on pregnancies that didn’t last and trying to figure out what was wrong. These folks just pitched in and helped their American neighbors and watched our little pumpkin. They realized that they have their families around and we don’t and they stepped up and filled in. There were also Americans who supported us during these times (and those who continue to do so today), but on the eve of the Germany fussball game it just struck me as to the warmth we’ve been shown by these people. I really am home.

I guess I was reminded of it again today as an American neighbor set up a playdate for her child and ours so I could get a much needed pedicure. Such thoughtfulness while my roommate is getting a “tan” is so helpful! We are truly blessed.

Numbers…arbitrary?

Sitting in church this morning with our two-year-old, I was looking around at several families with new babies (and/or some on the way).  It appears that many are growing by leaps and bounds.  On any given week, I can name at least 1 and a half hands full of families with in excess of 4 children. Some may say it has to do with being (fill in the blank) religion. It doesn’t matter which one, from my observation, as it seems that many with a close, traditional relationship with God and regular attendance at some form of service choose to have (or allow) many children into their lives.

It struck me as puzzling that God chooses to give the family near the front row eight, that’s right people, eight children when there are other families that are complete with just two adults.  Granted some of those two people families are such by choice, but others aren’t.  I just don’t always get the grand plan, but I guess I’m not on a need-to-know basis with God re: that subject. 

It feels as though I (can’t speak for my other half) am just about content with God’s plan for us, but every once in a while there’s a twinge.  The other day, for example, I was walking through the hospital when the announcement chime went off on the overhead and was then followed by that sweet little lullabye they play when a new baby is born.  I teared up.  Not sure why. Perhaps mourning those who never made it or maybe it was gratitude over the one who did.