Early Morning Scrub

Since returning to Bolivia after a visit to the States, I've gotten into a bit of new routine that I'm really enjoying. These days, I don't know many people who haven't made some lifestyle changes due to the economy. I am blessed that my support continues to be faithful and covers my monthly expenses, however, I felt the need to make some changes in my spending habits to be a better steward of other people's hard-earned money. One of those changes is deciding to hand wash my clothes instead of sending them out to be done.

I've somehow become a morning person. I never thought it would happen, and those of you who know me from years past would not have predicted it. Yet, ever since we were robbed just shy of a year ago, I am up with the sun that peaks into my window over the eastern mountain range 6ish every morning, and I'm really okay with it. There are some mornings I admittedly would like to sleep in, but I actually get fidgety and have to get up.

So now, most of my mornings start with doing laundry from the day before. One of the great things here is that everyone seems to have a utility sink, and although I live in an apartment, we have a partially covered outdoor area that includes a utility sink where I can look out through the latticework brick 'windows' and watch the sun rise on Mt. Tunari (pictured above). I never get tired of those mountains, and every morning they call me into communion with God, where we have a nice quiet time before the rest of the city is making its racket and the tantrum bird begins its cries (it sounds like a child screaming at the top of their lungs until they have no more breath, then breathing in deeply to start it all over again).

This morning I was reminded of my first international short-term mission trip when I was in the Dominican Republic (14 years ago!). About 2/3 of the way through our time at a small World Vision sponsored school in Azua, one of the moms who was very thankful for our work there, volunteered to wash our clothes. We were told to only pick a few essentials since there were so many of us, but even still, there was a mountain of clothes to be done. I felt badly seeing that giant mound, knowing it was going to take her hours to finish it all.

I was one of the few on the team that spoke Spanish, so I thought I'd let her know how much we appreciated her gift of clean clothes. I remember having a hard time understanding her, mostly because she only had about 5 or 6 teeth left, so her pronunciation was difficult to make out. We managed a conversation though, and I joined her for a while, learning how to really hand wash clothes, beyond the few delicates I had done in Woolite.

I've come to look forward to my early morning scrubs as it's kind of this stream of consciousness or at times sub-consciousness journey that God and I take together, and I'm never really sure how they get started or where they'll end up.

I love when something as simple like washing my baby-drooled-upon shirt can spark a memory from so many years ago. That trip was a pivotal moment in my life as it confirmed in my mind that I was to focus on development through missions and not through governmental programs.
And, after all those years, here I am doing just that.

It makes me wonder what is happening presently that I'll remember 10 years from now and realize it's significance after all that time..