So, I was going to supply you all with some sweet videos of my little cuties, but it didn't upload. Stink. Well, that's just how it is sometimes I guess. And as much as I hate to admit it, I can't always get what I want (cue "whatever Emi, you can always get what you want" a response I'm confident either my Nanners or one of my sisters would add:). Don't particularly have any profound thoughts to share. Just sittin here drinking some H2O and munching on some tasty cardamon cookies a dear friend bought because he wanted to bless us. So sweet. I love presents. To be honest, it was one of those days that was just, well, intense. Got a call early this morning that my friend's grandmommy had died. An hour later we were on the way to the funeral. I sat with my friend and her family and tried to process all that doesn't make sense in this world. Death. It just doesn't make sense. The only thing about death that makes sense to me is that we were never intended to experience it. Eternal life is a beautiful thing. How often do I forget how grateful I am to know it and Him who offers it. So today, I did a lot of sitting. Simply sitting. And holding. And praying. An occasional question here or there. I watched the truck drive down the road. In the back of the truck was a simple wooden box with a bright yellow fabric resting on top. Inside was my friend's grandma. I thought about how my friend must be feeling right now. I was so glad that we were able to give her and her sisters a ride to the gravesite. I was so honored to get to be there with them. That they'd let me peek into this intimate part of their lives. Of course, I lacked any beautiful words to say (something I lack even when speaking English, much less a language that's not my first). I was grateful that my husband, who always seems to find just the perfect word to say, shared what was on his heart. On the way back from the gravesite my hubby asked my friend what we could do for her and her family. She listed off a few things, then asked if we would join them for the lunch that followed. We hadn't presumed we'd be invited for the lunch, but accepted the kind invitiation. She ushered us into the living room of one of their relatives, so we could be comfortable and wouldn't have so many people looking at us (we tend to attract A LOT of attention anywhere we go). She went out and bought us some bottled waters to drink (because she knew our weak Western stomachs can't handle the local water quite like theirs can) and brought us our food. The family was so kind. So hospitable. So giving and selfless. It was their dear loved one who died. Sometimes I get so worn out from serving others. And yet I find myself... its really hard to be served. Good lesson for little Mull-dawg today. Thank you good Father. Good night ya'll.