You guys are really lucky that I didn't start writing this blog 3 days ago.  It's amazing what a few days, and cleared up bowel issues can do to improve one's perspective.  I won't get into the nitty-gritty of it all, but no one should need to go through that much toilet paper in 2 days.  Ever. 
The typical question these days is, "How are you feeling?".  Here in Ecuador, sharing your physical state of well-being, goes far beyond the typical "fine" response.  Now that the news is out and people know I'm pregnant (and if they don't know, they are starting to question the increasing belly size...) it's suddenly very public conversation to talk about my level of morning sickness, food cravings, and determine the sex of the baby by a single glance.  (In case your wondering, popular vote says: boy).  It also means that people are very quick to tell me their pregnancy/birthing/nursing tales.  Unfortunately, these accounts are not calming any nerves.  In all of this chatter, well-meaning words from friends, and of course my own anxious and fearful thoughts, I struggle to listen to the one voice that matters. 
There's a great story of the prophet Elijah hearing God's voice.

"A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks...but God wasn't to be found.  After the wind, an earthquake, but God wasn't in the earthquake, after the earthquake fire, but God wasn't in the fire.  After the fire, a gentle and quiet whisper." 

1 Kings 19:11-12 (The MSG)

Team playing games with locals

How much easier would it be if His voice was loud and booming from the mountaintop?  It can be hard to quiet oneself and hear a gentle whisper.  But when I do finally slow myself down enough to stop and listen, He's usually got something to say.  February was a short but full month.  My parents were here visiting (YAY!) and then we headed straight to Training Camp.  Then it was a quick "break" before Ivan headed to Costa Rica for a week of meetings/training and I went to a town about 2 hours away to help with a short-term mission trip team that happened to made-up of mostly YL student leaders.  I was able to connect with some locals in the town and we're praying about how we can continue to connect with them and possibly bring YL to their community.  The team did several YL clubs for the local teens and had a great response.  Watching people get pied in the face is pretty entertaining in any language.  The best part, kids got to hear the amazing story of Jesus' love.  It was fun but exhausting and I was happy to get back home and be in my own bed again.  So, in the midst of the crazy, how do you find time to be still and quiet?  When I'm home on a "normal" day, I've got my routine and while Ivan goes to the gym in the morning, I have the house to myself, a fresh cup of coffee and my spot in the living room.  But what happens when you've got guests visiting who get up at the crack of dawn (yup, that's you - Mom and Dad) or you're away from home, sharing a space with 15 other people, or nobody goes to the gym?  Myself, being the creature of habit that I am, really struggles to be flexible, find a different time or a different space to get away to.  Let's not even get to the part where umm...hello!  We're having a baby!  My life and it's nice little routine is about to all go out the window!  (as SO many people have so lovingly told me).  It's easy to beat ourselves up when we "fail" to have that  sacred devotional time, but I've learned to have grace, with myself.  God is after a relationship with me, not a weekly check-list.  I find myself, at random times in the day, just looking down at my belly, rubbing it, and whispering "Hey little one, mommy's here.  And I love you."  It's not grandiose.  It hardly takes a few seconds.  But it's heartfelt.  And maybe it takes some extended time in the bathroom every once in awhile to really sit me down (literally) to hear, "Hey, I'm here and I love you."  It's no earthquake or fire.  But it's His heart for me.