When I met my friend Judith, an African, she was pregnant but didn't know it. Over the course of our time here I have gotten to know her and to share her life, including the ups and downs of her pregnancy. We have shopped for "maternity" clothes together (which are actually just larger dresses). We have talked about the different ways our two cultures view pregnancy and child birth. We discussed her fears and hopes as her due date drew nearer.

On July 10 at 8am Judith gave birth to a 2kg 7g baby girl (that's about 4 1/2 pounds). She sent me a text (Almost everyone in Africa has a cell phone but they rarely call out on them-too expensive. They all text.) saying she went to the hospital at 5am and then asked me to pray at 7:30. At 9:30 I got an actual phone call from her. "I have a girl," she said. She was hoping for a girl. I asked if I could come and visit and she said sure. Since we didn't have a car and I had no idea where the hospital was I called a taxi and he took us (my friend Emily and I). When we arrived we were so intent on seeing her that we didn't bother to try to read the sign on the door, which outlined visiting hours. Small oversight. Instead, we barged right in asking if we could see her. The nurses told us "no", but Judith saw us and came out with the baby. We got to see her just long enough to drop off a gift and then a very important looking man came and informed us we had to leave. Judith said she'd be home later that day (WOW) and we could come see her there.

At about 4:30 Judith and the baby went home. We arrived shortly after and stayed just long enough to take a few pictures and make sure everyone was alright. We brought some food and some gifts. But it was I who received the best gift that day. When I asked the baby's name Judith said she was waiting for me. She wanted me to name her, so that she would always remember me. I was stunned and had to try hard not to cry. What an honor. After holding her, looking at her sweet face, asking Judith if she had any preferences (she requested something that started with G because she has a son whose name starts with G), I settled on the name Grace.

Grace, in the Bible, is something we are given that we did not earn. I did nothing to deserve the honor of naming this child, but was given to me. The child was given to Judith and her husband, but neither they, nor none of the rest of us as parents, have earned the right to raise our children. We make mistakes. We don't have all the answers and we often do it wrong. We should not be trusted to mold these little people, but we are. They are given to us as gifts from the Lord, because He loves us and He is big enough to redeem any mistake we make in child rearing. Grace. I can't wait to see what God has in store for this little one.