Truth be known.

I stumbled upon some verses in Habakkuk chapter 1 this week... Verses that sound a lot like the words that come out of my mouth and the mouths of those around me...

How long, O Lord, must I call for help?
“Violence is everywhere!” I cry,
but you do not come to save.
Must I forever see these evil deeds?
Why must I watch all this misery?
Wherever I look,
I see destruction.
The law has become paralyzed,
and there is no justice in the courts.

But the Lord hears the cries of His people. He hears and He answers...

“Look around at the nations;
look and be amazed!
For I am doing something in your own day,
something you wouldn’t believe
even if someone told you about it.

The Word of the Lord is true and it says that He is doing something in our own day. Not generations from now. It's already started. And it's something more amazing than would believe even if we were told.

May this truth be known for the baby with a cardboard box for a crib. For the young mother who has to abandon her children because she cannot afford to feed them. For the family living in a run-down tent. For the 12-year old boy who has never gone to school. For the man who has lived a lifetime with a deformed leg. For the thousands of families who have lost loved ones from a curable infection or malnutrition. For the child who has no hand to hold. And for the countless other tragedies that have become a fact of life far too early.

May we hold on to this hope that there will be a better day.

Already all-ready.

Yet another eventful week has come and gone.

A blur of school projects and planning, out trips, guitar jams and decking the halls.

Yes, I'm happy to announce that Haiti has been CHRISTMASIFIED!

But all extras aside, there is one thing that I can conclude after a week like this...

The Lord hears the prayers of His people.

Let me bring you up to speed.

A LOT has happened from the time from my last post about the mountain family until now.

First of all, after my blog about my first visit with the family, I received a comment on my Here on Earth blog from a guy named Chris who gave me great hope. He and a few other people from the States had already made contact with family and were organizing fundraisers and team trips to continue to help the family recover from last fall's hurricane. Unfortunately, due to the nature of a blog post, I could not follow up with him (no contact info), but the good news is this: Just last week during team orientation, Chris happened to be in the group! As you can probably imagine, I was thrilled to re-connect with him!

Then on Wednesday afternoon, midway through our Grade 5 solubility experiment, I got a knock on my door from Sadrac who said that he was traveling with Chris and a few other team members to take a bunch of supplies to the mountain family. Grayden and Sammy were not to disappointed that school had to be cut a bit short as I switched my head out of Grade 5 science charts to help Chris and the group pack up for our mountain trek.

From there we headed out with peanut butter sandwiches, clothes, tarps, solar powered lights, toys, and as many other supplies that we could carry. As usual, they welcomed us with open arms, and we spent the next two hours inflating air mattresses, arranging for baby Fania (who has a bad cough) to be seen at the clinic the following day, re-tarping their tents, playing with the kids and on and on.

While all of this was going on one of the team members was also taking live footage on a little flip video gadget, which Chris is hoping to post soon on Youtube. He left the video recorder in the hands of us Mission staff so that we can continue to track with the family and send live updates back home.

Now press pause.

Even as I type this I am in total awe.

As I watched everyone work together and interact with the family on Wednesday afternoon, my mind flashed back to the first encounter I had with Shalyn and Senson back on the mission road. The emotions I felt - The responsibility, the hopelessness. I was so overwhelmed. Where to begin? How can I, with a plate already so full, help this family? What do I do? It's too much. And yet as I doubted and asked those despairing questions, God was already working. He had more hope happening than I could imagine.

Once again He trumps any 'if' 'and' or 'but' situation. He's already all-ready.

And to think how the circumstances have changed in a matter of WEEKS. I am no longer the only person that these people are depending on. I am just a tiny piece of the puzzle. The Lord has been working on people's hearts far before I came into the picture, and has raised up a body so much bigger than me. What a blessing I have been given to be a part of the wonderful hope that is being offered to this family!

Chris was only here for a few days, and no doubt he will be back again. In the meantime, he'll be fundraising and uploading Youtube videos and raising awareness back home far more than I ever could. And while he and his friends are there, I get to stay here with the staff in Haiti where I can make regular visits to the family, take videos and relay news back to North America.

What a privilege to work together as the body of Christ.

And here's a bonus - Hope you don't mind if I brag about you Chris - It turns out that Chris is an extremely talented musician who has recorded with Michael W. Smith, Jaci Velasquez, Jan Arden and many others... Oh, and he's currently on tour with SheDaisy. So cool! Rachel and I took full advantage and spent Wednesday evening jamming with him while he also taught us the professional way to change guitar strings and an easier way to play B minor.

In other news, Oma (Laurens' mom) has been here for the past two weeks, offering assistance to the Loulous during our morning school times. It has been such a relief for me to have extra hours with my primary boys and junior students. Lately I've also really noticed the girls catching on to English. No longer to I have to repeat sentences 4 or 5 times before they understand. Even though they can still interact in Creole with one another and with people outside of school time, our strictly English school hours are slowly but surely helping them catch on. For example, yesterday in our morning prayer time I was delighted to hear Ana use a majority of English words in her popcorn prayer. We call it Cringlish, and may or may not understand it all, but God does. :)

The home-stretch!

The title of my blog today is in honour of The Journey days. Remember the days, Joy? We made the trek to Kitchener every week for small group bible study. It was always worth the trip. But in the wee hours of the morning we'd be driving home on the empty, ice-covered highways, and when we exited off the QEW onto the Victoria Avenue ramp for another 40-minute drive back to our Wainfleet beds we had a familiar line... It was still a far way off, but even so, we'd always proclaim that we were on the 'home stretch'.

These days in Haiti, I'd also like to think that I am on the home stretch...

*Breaking out in song* I'll be home for Christmas!.... you can plan on me.... please have snow and mistletoe and presents under the tree......!

In ALMOST one month from now, weather permitting, I will fly back to Buffalo for two weeks, and I can hardly wait!

The Christmas bug has caught me.

This Friday the kids and I are breaking out the decorations to 'winterize' our classroom, and it's all I can do to hold myself off until then. Rachel and I have been trying to keep each other accountable in not getting too carried away with Christmas decor and music until November 20th, but I admit, I have been sneaking around in the rubbermaid bin full of Christmas trinkets that my mom sent this past summer, and I don't want to point fingers, but I believe it was Rachel that I heard this morning singing 'Jingle Bells' on her way down the stairs. :)

Indeed, the Christmas countdown is on.

It's kind of a strange feeling... I want to be here.

I know that this is where I need to be right now. Sometimes it's the simplest of things that makes my heart swell with comfort. The Loulous cuddled up to me as I read them a story on a hot Wednesday afternoon. Making Tang and painting toenails with my junior girls on Friday nights. Listening to Bridgely and Riley chatter about their math problems. Doing science experiments with Grayden and Sammy. Looking forward to Haitian food leftovers for lunch. Waking up to bongo jazz (palette name of my wall colour) every morning...

And yet, there is a joy that springs up from me when I let my mind wander to the end of December. Reunions and parties and one-on-ones and congregational carols.

Recently I've also been growing weary from recognizing my loved ones as a green light on the computer screen. I miss faces. I miss voices. I miss the warmth of a hug and the smell of supper around the island. I miss picking up the telephone and talking for as long as I want. I miss coffee runs on Sunday afternoon. I miss clothing store change rooms. I even think I'm starting to miss the 6 o'clock news... Yes dad, I said it.

Last night I was browsing through some pictures of my 2009 summer. Pictures of weddings and road trips and family potlucks. If I let myself, I can actually feel like I am back in the moment... Hear the screen door sliding onto the back patio, feel the bob of Holden's head as he balances on my lap, feel the family car slow as we pass Marshalls, taste the fresh-cut fries at Sauble Beach, listen to the laughter and cheers of a reception performance of 'Good Time'.

It's all so fresh in my mind, and yet it feels like it's been ages... Far longer than the calendar displays.

Just yesterday, my cousin Betsy gave birth to a beautiful little baby boy. Zachary Michael is a hunk of preciousness. Seeing his face lit up on my computer is such a tease. I wish I could stretch my hands through the screen and cuddle him. Home time can't come fast enough.

But in the meantime, we wait and anticipate...

The kids and I have started a Christmas countdown, crossing off a number at the end of each morning, and it won't be long now until we'll blast the Christmas carols and cut out snowflakes and make stockings and create snowmen out of cotton. With each day getting closer, I can almost taste the homemade Christmas baking and feel the warmth from the fireplace.

It's November 18th. Everyday is another day closer... I think it's safe to say that I'm on the homestretch.

And just for the record, Joy... I'll be going straight to bed when I get home! ;)

The best place.

The best place isn’t always the easiest place.

Please don’t picture me on a soapbox with these words.

The experience of my heart whispers it’s true, but my erring mind isn’t as easily convinced.

Because life is... life.

Clinging to turbulent existence, we never know what’s around the next corner. No matter how well established we are, or well-read, or proactive to trauma, or worrisome, we can never immunize ourselves from circumstance, accidents, a tragedy.

And no matter how perfect we assume somebody else’s life is, we all have a story.

We are all breakable. We are all vulnerable. No one is exempt.

unemployment. illness. debt. singleness. loss. failure.

tears. pain. guilt. suffering. loneliness.

It leaves us broken. It changes our plans. It causes questions.

My dear friend’s mother was just diagnosed with cancer this past week.

News like this can stop you in your tracks.

I do not know the deep feelings and emotions that she and her family have had since this diagnosis. I have no right to.

But I do know that I have a pit in my stomach. I feel at a loss not be closer to her during this time. And it’s made me second guess the line about being in the best place when it’s difficult.

This statement is easier said than done.

How does it explain or apply to the difficult circumstances in our lives? How can I find peace in these places where my heart breaks? How can I know that there is still a reason to believe in hope? What purpose is there in our troubled times? And what reason would I believe that these times are often exactly where God has placed me to be... In the center of the storm.

Hosea urges us to press on to know the Lord - he writes plainly that our lives are fulfilled in truly knowing Him and worshipping Him for who He is.

But how do we truly know Him?

Could it be that in our darkest moments, it’s actually the Lord causing us to recognize who He is, and what is character is like?

Had it not been for the difficult circumstances in my life thus far, would I really be able to testify his love and faithfulness? Would I be able to recount the times where He has heard my cry and provided? If I hadn’t gone through the valleys, how would I know that He is the only One that can bring me through?

Could it be that what I’ve gone through has made me who I am today? Is there a chance that these troubled times have molded me to fit better into His hands? That the pain has re-aligned my compass, pointing me back where I belong... To the only One who truly satisfies and brings true peace.

I think it’s fair to say that life can take the very life out of us.

When the waves come, it’s easy to sink. It's easy to drown.

We grow weary, we are emptied.

But there is a lesson in here somewhere. A decision. A choice to give in to despair, or to keep holding on. I’m afraid that I give in far too easy sometimes. But when we believe... When we choose to believe that God is sovreign, even in our darkest places, His presence is enough.

With everything in us, we have to keep holding on. Keep believing.

Believing in a bigger picture, a higher purpose, a better tomorrow. Hope.

Hope that His ways are higher than our ways, His thoughts higher than our thoughts.

He is hope.

He is faith.

He is love.

And His love is strong. Strong enough to pull us through these testing times.

Even when hope is unseen, I can choose to believe that His love will see His people through, so that one day, we can look back and be amazed.

I think the most difficult place is also the place where we recognize Him most clearly. The place where we take our eyes off ourselves and onto Him. A place where refining forces us to stop and re-think about what really matters. A place where we can do nothing except draw nearer to where He has been all along. A place where we may not see it at the time but maybe, just maybe it is... The best place.

Refuel

Lately my weeks in Haiti have turned into blurs. It seems like I just sit down at my desk on a Monday morning and the clock is nearing noon on the last day of our school week. My off hours disappear no less slowly. I’m thankful for the opportunities that I have to get off the mission grounds and spend with friends, gatherings at the Church of Hope, as well as the evenings with my next door neighbours, but it sure makes the time fly. Umm... Is it already the 8th of November? I thought for sure it was only the 6th. Woy. It won’t be long and I’ll have to start thinking mid-term report cards!

Well, all this to say that this afternoon I decided that I was overdue for a siesta. A couple hours to do nothing but recharge.

It started with ‘Haitian food’ leftovers straight from the fridge... Contrary to Rachel’s shudder, it's my perfect cool down method. :)

Then I put my feet up and read ‘The Kite Runner' until my eyelids got heavy.

My favourite songs played softly over the hum of a fan as I journalled.

Jean Marc came over and blessed me with some acoustic worship practice.

And then I heard the soft whisper of rain out my window which beckoned me to take a walk down the hill in the cool mist.

Now I'm snacking on german pancake extras from next door.

Indeed, a refreshing day.

Tomorrow begins another week. I know without a doubt as I open the squeaky screen door leading into the classroom, the clock will hit double time and I’ll lurch into high speed mode before have time to blink. This lazy afternoon will surely be a thing of the past as I proctor math quizzes, teach what a diamond is, review the difference between a census and a sample, and practice re-grouping numbers, and that's just the beginning. The hours will blend to days, the days to a week, and before I know what has happened, I’ll be back on my couch next Sunday like a deja vu moment.

Today was a reflect and recharge kind of day. As I went about my afternoon, I got thinking about how easy it is to fall into the routine life I'm in, like all of us busy bodies are in. There is a trap set for us... To lose the bigger picture. Satan would just love to catch us up in a scheme of complacency. Where we lose the passion and simply carry out the day to day tasks without any emotion or heart. It’s a tricky thing to notice when the time is flying past us. Setting ourselves on autopilot mode is an enticing option. Forget the perspective and focus solely on getting through the 'work' and back to a comfortable chair where I don't have to think anymore... But we were made for more than that.

This week I had the privilege of sitting around a table of Godly and gifted staff members. Brad, our director, was here for a few days and we had a ‘check-in’ staff meeting on Thursday night where we discussed some of the current projects and future changes that the mission is undergoing. As I sat amongst friends, each of us with our own important role in helping the Mission of Hope thrive, I thought about how blessed I am to be in this place.

A similar circumstance happened last year around this time as the staff members gathered in prayer before the launch of HaitiOne. Those same feelings of unity and dedication to the people of Haiti and passion for reaching each and every one for Christ was so magnetically pulling. One cannot sit and listen to Brad and not feel called into action.

As he stated to our small staff group a few nights ago, our main goal here is to win Haiti for Christ. Whether it be through a church service, or a school lesson, or treating a sick patient, or sharing meals in the mountains, or praying over a newborn baby, or singing a creole song about Jesus with village children. Each choice to reach out and make a difference has an irreversible impact and no one thing is more significant than another.

And it's the same anywhere around the world. The little things. The simple choices we make carry so much more weight than we realize if only we step out of our current reality and think beyond it. These aren't moments to waste or wish away. This isn't the time to 'wait until tomorrow'. It's time to seize these days. Each fleeting moment I'm given can be a heavenly investment, or it can be gone forever.

As darkness sets in and I prepare to wash my dishes from the day and close the schoolbooks that I've planned with over the weekend, I hope to make this my prayer. I know how easy it is to make a trend out of going through the motions, but I hope tomorrow is another fresh start. I hope that I can live in the moment with a heavenly perspective, and I hope that I may steward the gifts bestowed on me in a way that glorifies the One who gave them.

Words fall short.

Now that I have seen, I am responsible, faith without deeds is dead.

Now that I have held you in my own arms, I cannot let go till you are.

These are lyrics from Brooke Fraser's song, Albertine.

This song has taken on a new meaning for me this week.

I've been given a new conviction:

I have seen.

A new burden:

I have held you in my own arms.

A new prayer:

Faith without deeds is dead.

As you read in my last post, this past Sunday I was thrilled to see Shalyn, the little girl I met from the mountains, in church with her family. After my visit with them at the end of the service, my friend Sadrac assured me that he knew where they lived beyond the mission, and we could go and visit them.

So yesterday, my prayers were answered when I got to see Shalyn and Senson with their families!

As much as I am delighted to share this will all of you, I am also writing with a heavy heart after experiencing their desperate living conditions... Words fall short of what I can express but I will do my best to tell you what I saw.

Starting from the same place where I met the children 2 weeks ago, we branched off of the mission on a small footpath and hiked up and down the steep hills to their humble dwelling. Once we reached the top of high hill, I could see in the distance a small clearing of dirt with 2 small shelters on either side. The children saw us coming and immediately began running to greet us. First was Shalyn, followed by Senson, and then their little brother Peter. We made our way back to their land where a man stood with an older boy and a woman held a little baby.

I greeted the parents and children and then took a look around me. What I saw made my heart sink. There were two run-down shelters (what used to be tents) that were weighed down with blankets, garbage bags, palm branches, and small pieces of tarp. The insides, which I got to see later on, were strengthened with long sticks along the sides, set up similar to a tee-pee.

In between the two shelters, there was a smoldering fire balancing a tin pot filled with a dark, boiling liquid. The children looked similar to the first time I saw them on the road. Dirty faces, stretched and faded clothing (two of the children didn't have any clothes on), no shoes, but despite it all, they still wore the same bright smiles. After holding their dear 1 and a half month old baby sister, I took out a few of the small toys I brought along. I had a little collection of children's clothes left in my apartment from last year that I was also able to fit some of the children in, and then we taught the kids how to play frisbee.

In my duffel bag, I had also brought some Creole bibles with me from the guesthouse, hoping that the parents would be able to use them and read to their children. Unfortunately, the parents shook their heads when I offered them the books and I was saddened to know that neither the mother nor father knew how to read. They had never gotten the chance to go to school. Upon asking more questions, we learned that the 3 oldest children are currently going to a school in Titanyen and although they can't read right now, they will hopefully learn in the months and years to come.

After sharing what we brought and cuddling with the children, we continued on our mountain trek to another family beyond the next hill. Shalyn held tightly to my hand so we took her along. We marched through some small corn crops and plantain trees and then found a similar looking clearing with a smoking fire between two run-down tents. Once again smiling faces stood waiting to greet us. There was a mother and father with 4 children and a 4-month old baby. The baby, Kaliak, was wearing a sleeper top and had her legs swaddled in a blanket (for a diaper). She was all smiles as we picked her up and sang songs.

I gave what was left of the small gifts I had in my bag, including some individual packets of gum. Upon offering bibles to them, they too refused due to their lack of reading ability, and sadly the parents explained that none of their children have been able to attend school either. The oldest boy is 12 years, followed by a 9 year old brother and 7 year old sister. My mind drifted back to my students at the mission, and my own upbringing and education growing up. How fortunate and blessed we are to grow up with a chance to go to school and become all that God has created us to be. It broke my heart to think that these children have never had the chance to learn to read, or write or have knowledge to help them have a job and raise a family when they grow up. It's like a vicious circle. These people are living in a situation that has continued for generations. They have no jobs, no money, barely enough food to survive on and no education. They are so needy.

It's such a hopeless thing. It makes you wonder how things can ever change. As I stood in silence, gazing at the conditions around me, I had a familiar feeling of despair from the first time I met the children. The questions, the confusion, the doubt all came flooding back. What did they do to deserve this? It's so unfair. And what am I supposed to do about it? I'm just one person. How can I help them?

And then felt a small hand touch mine. I looked down to see Shalyn staring up at me. She opened my hand and gave me a half-stick of her gum.

Such a simple gesture, and yet her actions spoke so much louder than words ever could. Living in a place where every morning she wakes up and wonders if she will eat. Sleeping under torn blankets and leaves that allow pouring rain to leak through. Bathing in water from muddy puddles... It humbles me that she would accept such a small gift and choose to give back so generously.

There are no words.

Only hope.

Somehow, someway.

I need to have faith that I was not brought to these children to lose hope, but to find it.

I need to have faith that I serve a God who is good and hears the prayers of His people.

I need to have faith that the One in me is greater than the one in the world.

A faith that leaves me with a responsibility of more than standing on the sidelines.

As we said our goodbyes and made our ascent back towards the mission, I watched the sun slowly disappear from the horizon. As the air cooled and the colors faded from the sky, I prayed for the Lord to be especially near to Shalyn and Senson's family. Something in me believes that He has something much greater in mind for this family than I ever could.

I can't wait to see them again.

Extra Extra!

I've got lots of news. GOOD news.

Good news is good... Puts a little spring in your step! Well, my weekend has been sprinkled with lots of it and I feel very blessed!

First things first - I have just been informed through contact with FTC that my year support has been reached! I want to take a moment to THANK each one of you who made it possible for me to serve here in Haiti this year. I can't express in words how appreciative I am for the sacrifices each and every one of you have made in order to support me. I feel so blessed by the prayers, encouraging messages and financial gifts that have been generously given to me. It is such a confirmation that this is where I need to be during this time of my life, and it wouldn't be possible without each one of you! Thank you!

Secondly - You have likely read my latest blog about my need for an ESL assistant. This has been heavy on my heart for a while now, and I have really been questioning how the Lord is going to provide in this area before I burn out completely. Well, just this past weekend I received an e-mail from Laurens' parents with a wonderful proposal. In just over a week's time they will be coming to Haiti to visit the van der Marks for 14 days. Laurens' mother contacted me sharing that based on her career experience working with special needs and ESL students, she would like to offer her assistance in the classroom while she is visiting! I can't wait to get some professional help this month and learning some good techniques myself while she is here.

I am still amazed at the timing, qualifications and willingness of the whole situation... The Lord surely knows the bigger picture and provides in perfect timing! As I stewed and stressed last week, He already had this all in mind. I guess I'm still learning that He's always got my back. When I don't see Him, He's working in the background setting up something I could have never even dreamed.

In other good news, the babies are GROWING. You may remember seeing pictures of two very frail and bony bodies at the beginning of the summer. Well, Hannah Grace and Jeremiah have literally TRANSFORMED within a matter of months. I did not even recognize them when I returned this fall. They are HUGE. Currently we have two Haitian mommies working round the clock to care for them in my old downstairs apartment. It's so nice having them downstairs and I love checking in on them. Every Sunday, Rachel and I perform our morning routine with Mommy Edi to bring the two darlings down to church. There we are ready to go!

Fortunately Rachel recently acquired a truck from the mission, so it comes in very handy as a baby carriage compared to an ATV! Rachel is the chauffeur, doing her best to make the descent as smooth as possible over the rocky terrain, and Mommy Edi and I squeeze into the passenger seat with the babies on our laps. We shield their eyes from the sun and try to keep them comfortable as their sleepy eyes stare up in a disoriented expression. It's not long though before they are snug in the baby carriers and get to enjoy the music of the service, and smiling faces of the Hope House kids. Just this past Sunday I say beside Rachel who had Hannah in her lap. Perched on Rachel's legs she lit up with the brightest smiles every time Rachel leaned in to give her a kiss. Once again I am reminded how truly blessed I am to watch such precious lives grow.

And even more good news... After the service on Sunday I was introduced by my friend, Sadrac to the family of the children I met a few weeks ago on the road (from my Here on Earth blog)!!! Yes! They were at church! I saw Shalyn again! Unfortunately Senson was sick and not able to be at church, but I met their mother and a few younger brothers and sisters. I was so thrilled to know that they have been at church and I am hoping to go and visit them at their home sometime soon. I am so grateful to the Lord for this new connection and the joy that comes in sharing His hope!

Since I'm on a roll here, let me share another really great story before I head back to marking science tests... I think last year I may have mentioned one of the Hope House boys that I have the privilege of teaching guitar to. His name is Jean Marc and he is quite a gem! Just look at that smile...

Every couple of days he comes over for a half hour or so to practice on my guitar and I sing along. Last year we would have to stop every couple of words as I corrected him on a chord or slow him down, but since I've been back he is really turning into quite a musician. I don't accredit this to any of my teaching, he is extremely dedicated and passionate about developing his talent! I am honoured that I get to watch from the sidelines what the Lord is doing. Many Sunday mornings I glow when I see him up with the worship team keeping rhythm with the tambourine or playing guitar with the soloist for special music. In addition to his growth musically, I am also been amazed at his spiritual growth over the past couple of months. He truly loves the Lord. I can see it in the way that he plays, the way he sings, the way he worships. His sincerity toward serving the Lord is so evident. Every time he comes over I encourage him on his skills and show how impressed I am, but he never takes the credit. He always gestures with a pointed finger upwards and reminds me that it's all for God. Just this past Saturday Jean Marc popped his head in my apartment after lunch and asked if he could play. I welcomed him in and asked what song we were going to start with, but he paused and said that he had a different suggestion. With genuine words, Jean Marc asked if we could begin our time by praying before he played.

My heart swelled and my eyes moistened as I humbly invited him to pray. As I sat there in the quiet of the moment with Jean Marc softly speaking words of praise and thanksgiving to His Father, Our Father, I was in awe of the opportunity that I have been given to get to know this special boy. His life is a testament to the grace of God, and I have no doubt that he is going to be a world-changer in his generation. What a blessing it is to know him, and to watch him worship so tangibly. The Lord is evidently at work in his life and I'm challenged by his love and dedication in following after all that the Lord has for him!

So there's my good news weekend in a nutshell... Hopefully it's left you with a spring in your step too! :) I'm leaving you with some snapshots of the halloween festivities and view of my apartment... Enjoy!