*Insert Cool Title Here*

Sick. Lovely. I woke up a couple days ago with a scratchy throat. The next day I had a spectacular headache, which had the audacity to stick around until about six in the evening. For a while I was terrified I'd somehow caught the chicken pox. I'd jump out of bed first thing in the morning and rush to the mirror, frantically probing my face for angry little red spots. I don't think I've ever been as thrilled, or relieved, to discover a new pimple in my life. Turns out it was just a mild cold, which I might have caught from Gabby. She was sick last week and I've been spending quite a bit of time with her. I'm feeling much better now, praise the Lord.

Thank you all for your prayers. This week has been a bit tougher. I've been reading Desiring God, and Romans 12. I might as well let you know that I've been failing quite miserably in my endeavors to find my joy in Christ by serving Him. What does joy mean to you? I'm not, by nature, a person given to dramatic bouts of manic depression, so I've always thought myself to be quite familiar with the attitude of joyfulness. However, I'm finding it's a struggle to serve others as though I'm serving Him. Where is the overflow of joy I should be feeling in my soul? I feel like Mexico is where God wants me to be right now. I'm trying to rest in that knowledge...and wait for Him to reveal more of Himself to me. "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." Romans 12:2 This whole renewing your mind business is very difficult indeed...especially for people with the caliber of impatience that I possess. Desiring God has been a challenging, and inspiring read. When Mom's not around to offer wisdom and sage advice, John Piper will just have to do. :-) Anyway, that's some of the stuff that's been floating around in my mind these past few weeks. A disorganized jumble, to be sure, but this is my blog and I reserve the right to make as much (non)sense as I please. I'm looking forward to learning the lessons God wants me to learn while I'm here.

In other news, we've been trying to potty train Nathaniel. To put it mildly, it's been a nightmare of hideous, and stinky, proportions. He categorically refuses to dump anywhere other than his diaper. Or his pants. Or his underwear. Blessedly, we tricked him into doing it on the toilet...only once. Actually, it was more due to biology than to our artful craftiness that we got him to go at all. I'll spare you the heinous details, but since that one dump on Sunday we've been lamentably unsuccessful. **sigh** I guess even the worst of them are potty trained eventually, although it looks like nature will make an exception for Nathaniel.

On Sunday we went to the beach, as a church, to play volleyball and soccer. Everyone was greatly impressed with my serve, and severely depressed with my soccer skills. I got to try a mexican specialty. Coconut slices with a light coating of freshly squeezed lime juice and smothered in a spicy chilli sauce. Good stuff. One of the ladies here keeps trying to feed me. "Flaca, es muy flaca!" she says in response to my protests. Flaca means skinny. I find it very amusing.

We spent Tuesday at La Bufadora with Sonia and Raul. (Two young people from Church.) It's a natural blowhole located in Ensenada, in Baja California. The pressure inside the small cave builds until a jet of water, hopefully 70 ft. high, erupts out the top. It's fun to guess the timing, and call the big spouts before they actually happen. (Google "natural blowhole" to get a better idea of what I'm failing to tell you about.) Legend has it that the expulsions are caused by a baby whale that has been trapped inside the small cave for decades. Kind of a stupid legend if you ask me.



The Bufadora is located at the end of a long market street. Dozens of colorful vendors line both sides of the street selling more or less the same thing. I bought a few little items that MARKY and KATIE would have absolutely no interest in. Then, something special caught my eye. I had to have it. It's not for me, so I'll just say it was a vase. Well, this was a pretty vase. I'd seen a smaller, less cute, version of it in another stall. The vendor's lowest offer had been 220 pesos. Which comes out to around 20-21 dollars. I set to thinking about it, and when I saw this bigger, more adorable version...I decided to buy it. The trick to haggling is not letting the seller know how much you'd like to buy his product. I waltzed in, casually, and began absentmindedly fingering the vase. He practically jumped me.

"37 dollars! Look, it's very good price...cost me 570 pesos!"

Fat chance. I gave him a noncommital nod.

"And for the smaller one?" I asked.

"Oh, same price. Same price." I furrowed my eyebrows.

"It's too much, I'm sorry."

"Ok, ok. For you, 34 dollars."

"Tsk, I wanted the bigger one anyway."

"Ok, how much you want to pay?" Yippee! Here comes the fun part.

"15 dollars. For the big one." His eyes widened in shock.

"Senorita, that's ridiculous! No, 30 dollars." I shrugged.

"Still too much."

"29?" I shook my head, smiled, and turned to go.

Wait for it, wait for it.

His partner intervened. "Hey, menos dos dolares!"

Gotcha!

"Ok, 27!"

I turned around. "Sorry, too much. I'll give you 20."

"25!" I shook my head.

"24."

"20."

"23?"

"20."

"22."

This is too much fun.

"Ok, here, 21 dollars."

He smiled. "Ok, good. It's a deal."

I marched over to the counter to pay for my prize.

"Twenty-one fifty?" he queried, half joking. I laughed. He smiled. I was happy with the price, although I still think he made quite the tidy profit off me. :)

The rest of the week has been fairly uneventful. I'm pretty much in charge of the kids. Still trying to get them to come to me with their squabbles instead of bugging their Mom. They like me quite a bit now, so I'm hoping their Mom will get a full break from them this week. The three boys are balls of energy. Non-stop, constant energy. If I could just find a way to bottle it and sell it... They're sweet, but they're a handful. I've caught Ruthie up on her school, and she doesn't have much left to finish. In two weeks, a busload of youth from a romanian church in Oregon are coming down to do some work in Rosarito, and at some of the orphanages in Mexicali, and Ensenada. Lord willling, I'll be working with them from July, 2 to the 11th. So, that's what's been happening so far down in Mexico.

Again, thank you all for praying for me!