Loving The Least Of These

Transformed

2011-12-24T07:51:00.002-07:00

Man's Maker was made man, that He, ruler of the stars, might nurse at His mother's breast. That the Bread might hunger, the Fountain thirst, the Light sleep, the Way be tired on His journey - that the Truth might be accused of false witness, the Teacher be beaten with whips, the Foundation be suspended on wood; that Strength might grow weak; that the Healer might be wounded, that Life might die. - Augustine

I've been talking quite a bit lately about how unfathomable it is that the very God who created the universe came to earth and stooped so low to be with us. How He enters the lowly places of this world and makes His home there, bringing hope and making all things new.

I am fairly certain there are no words that can describe this better than the picture above of my son, Tariku. He is feeding ice cream to my inlaw's 98 year old neighbor who is in her last days under hospice care.

You may look at this picture and just see a sweet moment.

I look at this picture and I see healing and hope.

I see a little boy who did not know compassion or kindness growing up. You would weep crocodile tears if you knew what my son has been through.

I see his burned hand stretched out to give away something he never received in his formative years. Not ice cream, but love. Simple and pure.

I see a transformed heart, a wounded healer. And I look at my son and I know that it's true...that God makes beautiful things out of the dust. That He gives us hope when there seems nothing to be hopeful about.

I see God in my son. I see it in how he sits so patiently with an old grandmother, without hurry, as if there's no other place he'd rather be in the world than right there. And so is God with us. Content to just sit with us and spoon feed us whatever we need. To come and enter our situations and just be present.

I see a heart overflowing with compassion that has been born out of his own pain and brokenness. It makes no sense, my son's capacity to love.

I see what once was darkness and hopelessness now pouring out light and hope.

Maybe this Christmas Eve you aren't feeling hopeful. Maybe life's circumstances cause you to feel heavy, anxious or sad. Know that God is sitting right beside you. That to be with you is the very reason He came. And He won't stop at just being with you. He will be hope to you. He will take your pain and your brokenness and make them beautiful...into a masterpiece even.

He redeems everything. Merry Christmas, friends.

*Just as I was getting ready to post this, Tariku came into the room and turned up the music I had playing. He said "Mommy, this is my favorite song." Then he wrapped his sweet little arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder while we listened to these words:

Your love never fails, it never gives up. It never runs out on me. On and on and on and on it goes.

It overwhelms and satisfies my soul

And I never ever have to be afraid

One thing remains.

The Love that came to be with us never fails, never gives up, never runs out. To be sure, the people sitting in darkness have seen a great Light.

In The Dirt

2011-12-12T16:28:00.002-07:00

Want to know what I love about God? He's completely unpredictable. He does things that are completely upside down and unexpected. While the world looked to the sky waiting for the Messiah to come down with great procession and riches, Love came down in poverty - vulnerable, weak and helpless.

Not only was the way He entered the world completely unexpected, but so was the city He chose. Scripture says "Nazareth...can ANYTHING good come from there?" I've often heard people refer to certain cities here in the U.S. as "the armpit of America". That's what Nazareth was...the armpit of the world. So, of COURSE, that's where God chose to send His son. Everything about how the Savior entered our world was revolutionary. It didn't add up. It made no sense.

But you know what's really crazy? He chose to STAY. He spent 30 years in the city of Nazareth. Out of a place where there was nothing redemptive, came redemption Himself. He stuck around the hell hole of Nazareth...He stayed with people in their brokenness, filth and pain. He could have left. He could have. I'd never really thought about that before last night. From day 1 on earth, God chose to BE WITH the marginalized, the least and the poor. And not for just a moment, but for thirty years. This is no fluke. Jesus wanted to relate to us in our brokenness. He didn't go live in a palace...that's not real life. He went to the sick, the cast offs, the poor, the lonely. He sat with them. He played with them as a child. He laughed with them. He cried with them. He LOVED them. He REDEEMED them. He entered their pain. He went to them. He became lowly. The God who placed the stars in the sky came so low. And He stayed low. He stayed in the dirt.

Photo courtesy of Jobin Sam, who lives his life in the dirt with orphans in Calcutta

We must find the places of pain and heartbreak and live there because that's where Jesus is. It doesn't mean we live depressed...God came to give us HOPE. He came to call us out of our darkness and to live in the hope He offers. But until we get acquainted with the grit, the grief and the sorrow of our world, just as Jesus did, we will miss Him. WE WILL MISS HIM. And I don't want to miss Him. The thought of missing out on the fullness of who God is because I'm not WILLING to enter into the sadness of this world makes my heart hurt. I want to be found willing. O God, may I be found willing.

We see Jesus being in close proximity with the marginalized. We see Him touching lepers. Before I went to Korah (a leper colony in Ethiopia) the number one question I got asked was how I was going to protect myself and keep from getting leprosy. May God deliver us from our mentality of being concerned for ourselves first. If Jesus touched the lepers, why aren't we? If Jesus sought out the lonely, why aren't we? If Jesus was moved to tears by His compassion for His people, why aren't we? WHY AREN'T WE???

God chooses to reveal Himself through us to others. Immanuel...God WITH us. God IN us. The nearness of God comes through the proximity of His people. So, where are we?? Comfortably closed in our four walls? If God's love is seen as we go, then I'd better find myself going. I'd better be found engaging in people's messy lives. Why wouldn't I if that's where Jesus is??

God came for me. He came so low for me. Will I choose to go low? Who do I think I am that I shouldn't go low too? God stooped so low to pick me up. Do I realize that my soul will be satisfied more richly and fully when I choose the road of the broken? If I am running away from the low places, I am running the wrong direction. God is not found where we think He would be. The incarnation proved that. He is found on the narrow path of the lowly. He is found in their eyes, their tears, their smiles. This is the God I've found...the God of the lowly. And He's more beautiful than I possibly thought.

May we be found willing...

Anathi's Story from Children's HopeChest on Vimeo.

"NEED"

2011-12-01T13:16:00.001-07:00

It's officially December. The month we celebrate Immanuel - God WITH us. The entrance of our Savior into the world. What I love about the way God sent his son into the world is how simple it all was. While there were great multitudes of angels celebrating His arrival, a handful of shepherds and three kings who traveled far to witness God incarnate,...the King of Kings made His entrance in a manger without fanfare. This is so symbolic of the humility and selflessness which would define His life (and should define ours as well).

We celebrate Christmas because we celebrate the extravagant love of God, who sent us the most amazing, costly gift of His son. The Creator of the universe modeled for us in an extraordinary way what it means to give. God held nothing back. He gave what was most precious to Him - His son.

And we give too, when we celebrate Christmas. In fact, we spend 450 BILLION dollars on Christmas. That's a lot of giving. But WHAT are we giving?? Do you know it would only take 10 billion dollars to solve the water crisis in the world? There's just a little perspective.

A few weeks ago I asked my kids what they wanted for Christmas. You should have heard the crickets in the room. "Um...well...um...I don't really know". There you have it, folks. My kids couldn't even tell me ONE thing they wanted for Christmas. Know why? Because they have SO ridiculously much and half of it they don't even use or remember that they have. How sick is that? And yet, we are actually thinking about buying them more??

Something MUST give here, friends. I say this for myself as well as for anyone else who can understand my heart here. This Christmas, my kids are each getting 3 gifts - something to wear, something to play with and something to read. The days of buying more stuff for the sake of buying more stuff are over.

Two months ago I watched children scavenging in a trash dump for food in Ethiopia. I saw a 6x8 room where 7 people slept with one make shift bed. I no longer have the audacity to say that I need anything. Or that my children do. How about we take that 450 BILLION dollars we spend every year on Christmas (forgive me, but that figure makes my stomach churn) and give it to people who actually need something. Those people are in our cities and around our world.

I put my 6 year old adopted son from Ethiopia to bed tonight and he prayed this: "Dear God, please help the kids in Africa all have mommies and daddies like I do. And please help them have food to eat and clothes to wear. And let them be happy like I am." This coming from my child who weighed 20 pounds when he was 4 years old and suffered from extreme malnourishment. This coming from my child who went without clothing. He knows what a real need is. He has lived it. I can't tell you how humbling it is to be taught by my own child who has lived through and survived circumstances I could never in a million years imagine. My child gets what a true heart of generosity looks like. If there's a need and it's in our ability to meet it, then we should. It's that simple. Why wouldn't we?

And this Christmas, I have a practical way that you can be involved in doing just that. A way that will provide dignity for a child and give them opportunities for education.

To go to school in Korah (Ethiopia), you need to have a school uniform. I actually heard stories of families not sending their children to school because they couldn't afford the small (in our eyes) school fees and/or the uniforms. Can you imagine that being a reason for our kids not to attend school?? It's completely unacceptable. Most of the children I met there had one set of clothing to their name. I'm not sure that any of the clothes actually fit the kids. They just wear what they can find, be it too big or too little. Because of the expense of a school uniform (on average $28 per uniform), most kids are wearing their uniforms from a year or two ago if they have one at all. And that one uniform is worn every day all day. You can imagine how tattered and dirty they become.

This Christmas, I would LOVE to raise enough money for each of the 60 kids in the Hands for the Needy program in Korah to get a new school uniform. That's $28 per uniform. $28 to give a child dignity and opportunity for education.

Will you join me in generously giving to these kids who truly know what need is? I think it would be so amazing for me to be able to tell my son that God answered his prayers and gave some kids in Africa clothes. These lessons in God's provision are invaluable for our children. And for us. :)

I believe there are more than enough readers of my blog to cover this need. All we need is for 60 of you to step up and give $28 to provide a uniform. We need a total of $1650. That may seem like a lot of money, but if we all help, it can be done.

What I haven't told you yet is how I was going to do a campaign for new shoes for the kids in Korah, but before I could write the blog post, the $900 was funded. Then today, I was going to change directions and raise money for medical care for the kids since the shoes were funded, but before I could write the blog post, the $750 for medical care was completely funded. My jaw has been on the ground all day long. We have four fundraising projects going on right now for specific things and 2 of the 4 have been covered without having to ask anyone to get involved. AMAZING. The only thing left on the list of four things after the uniforms are funded is a washing machine so that they can be washed efficiently and well. Perhaps we can raise the money for the uniforms AND the washing machine (an additional $875)??? God LOVES these kids so much and is providing for their needs through people like you who are willing to sacrifice on their behalf.

I would love to see this money raised by Christmas. It can happen. If my son can raise $5,000 for a water well in Africa in one week, we can certainly knock out these uniforms that cost $1650 in one month!

So here's how to do it:

1) Go to http://www.handsfortheneedy.org/?page_id=386

2) Follow the directions on the page to give.

3) Be SURE to put “ET3008000″ in the Reference Number Field so the money is designated properly.

4) If you would like to put "uniforms" in the "Notes" field that would be helpful as well.

Five minutes of your time, twenty-eight of your dollars = a significant impact in the life of a child. Education is life in Africa and you can literally help give a child a chance at a future they deserve for a mere $28. Now THAT is a gift. Thanks for considering this and for helping to spread the word. Can't wait to post pictures of the kids in their new uniforms thanks to YOU! I'll keep you posted on the progress we make! Thank you, thank you, thank you for joining me on this adventure of learning what real need looks like and for helping to change the story for these kids in Ethiopia. Giving is so beautiful.

Thanksgiving in the Handing Over

2011-11-23T09:14:00.000-07:00

Our happiness comes not in the having, but in the handing over. God extravagantly pays back everything we give away and exactly in the currency that is not of this world but the one we yearn for: joy in Him. - Ann Voskamp

Sometimes, words aren't enough. I look around and wonder how in the world I get to live this life. I marvel at how my life looks nothing like what I once thought it would. It's so much better. Had I held on tightly to what I thought I wanted, I never would have known just how extravagantly God pays back when we surrender to Him...

The JOY of adoption. My friend Katie said it best - "Adoption is a redemptive response to tragedy that happens in this broken world. And every single day, it is worth it, because adoption is God's heart." And it is SO worth it!

The beauty of living in missional community with people who know this truth...

The way I learn from my children how to love more fully...

Living in such a breath-taking place where I am daily reminded of God's presence...

Being a part of an organization that is transforming the lives of children all over the world and helping them reach their dreams...

Having a whole other family in Ethiopia that teaches me how to give my life away...

Living a life of shared passion with my best friend...

Falling in love with a community of orphans in Ethiopia who fill me up to overflowing...

Yes,indeed. God always pays back extravagantly. Always. May you find joy in the handing over this Thanksgiving.

"Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.” - Psalm 100:4-5

All Things New

2011-11-20T09:50:00.001-07:00

His face is etched on my heart, this 10 year old boy who lives at the garbage dump in Addis Ababa with his father. His father, whose wife was murdered leaving him with 6 children he couldn't care for. His father, who had to send four of his kids to government orphanages. His father, who loves them all and must weep heavy tears over their separation. As a parent, I can't imagine what it must take to make those kinds of choices.

His son, Habtamu has a smile that swallows you up when you're lucky enough to get one.

He was so shy when we first met at my friend Yemamu's feeding center. I wondered what his life must be like....what it feels like to wake up under a tarp in the city dump and know that this is your life. To watch your father work late into the night scavenging for metals and plastics just so you can have a little food. He told me how he would walk very far down the road to wait for the garbage truck that was on its way to the dump from the Sheraton Hotel. He told me how if the driver was nice, he would slow down so that Habtamu and his friends could jump on the back, making them the first ones to have dibs on the freshest garbage...the "best" food.

I watched the camaraderie between him and his friends from the garbage dump. I was amazed at his capacity for joy.

One of the board members from the Hands For The Needy center came for a visit one day with his young son. I watched in fascination two worlds collide. I watched Habtamu pick up the coveted soccer ball and hand it to this privileged little boy, smiling.

My eyes filled. This ten year old knows that "happiness is found not in the having, but in the handing over."

And there I sat, learning lessons from a ten year old across the room. The poor have much to give. And the rich have much to receive from the poor. And receive, I did from this little boy over the coming days.

He was one of the 12 boys we took to buy new clothes and shoes for. We ended up spending quite a bit of time together in a taxi going from one market to another. And in that time, we bonded. He sat beside me holding my arm and tracing the blue of my veins with his finger. He was fascinated to be able to see what was under my skin. :) I showed him pictures on my iPhone of my family and of snow on the mountains. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close, wondering how long it had been since he had felt a mother's touch.

We spent a long day together trying to find shoes and clothing for all the boys. Habtamu laid his head on me and fell asleep for a while. I just kept thinking how badly he must miss his mother. I wondered at how easily he let me just love him.

We took them out to eat a good meal. On the way home I was sitting behind him in the taxi. He reached his arm up and pulled my hand over the seat so he could hold it.

Black and white skin held each other. I wondered if he knew his veins were blue on the inside too. I wondered if by now he realized we were far more alike than we were different. I needed him and he needed me. He started fingering the diamonds on the wedding ring I had forgotten to leave behind in the States. I immediately felt ashamed. I wanted to pry it off my finger and hide the symbol of my wealth. I thought about how much money I could get if I sold it. I thought about how little it actually takes to change the trajectory of a little boy's life. And my tears fell silently as I held his hand. My heart cried out a repentant prayer.

By now we were driving in the dark of night. A garbage truck pulled up in the lane next to us and the boys started yelling out the window at the kids who were riding on top. It would have been them that night, riding on top of that truck. The irony was not lost on me.

I smelled the garbage dump before I made it out in the dark. Habtamu squeezed my hand more tightly. My heart started to beat a little faster. Were we really just going to drop these boys off at the garbage dump to go sleep under a tarp? Everything in me wanted to scream. It wasn't right. The taxi pulled over to the side of the road. I think I was literally shaking as I stepped out to make way for the boys to exit the taxi. Habtamu held a bag of left over food to give to his father who was working late into the night. All twelve beautiful, stinky boys gave me hugs and said thank you. Habtamu hugged me tightly. I kissed the top of his head and told him I'd see him tomorrow. He whispered thank you then wrapped his arm around his friend Zerehun and started walking into the piles of garbage. I climbed back in the taxi and totally lost it. Yemamu put his hand on my shoulder and told me they were okay...that they had each other and were happy. And he was probably right. But I still couldn't reconcile the fact that we had just dropped kids off to go sleep in the city dump while I went to my nice compound to sleep in my bed. I wept all the way home.

The coming days were filled with a lot of activity, but Habtamu and Zerehun started to accompany us wherever we went and just help out. We took them both to church, which they loved. I could feel the time ticking quickly away until I had to leave. On the Sunday we left, we had Habtamu and Zerehun and my friend Lindsey's sponsored child with us at our compound. Yemamu and Sisay were playing soccer with the boys. They were running and laughing and tripping over each other. It felt like a Sunday afternoon at my own house with my kids playing happily. I smiled as I clicked away with my camera.

That Sunday afternoon was beautiful. The boys were free to just be boys. They played, they laughed, they joked around, they let down. It was a blessing for all of us to just enjoy each other's company and love each other. Saying good-bye was awful. But I think all of us learned so much from each other in our two weeks together. Watching these boys receive love from Yemamu and Sisay filled my heart. I know that they are looked after and cared for by these two men who are investing their lives in them.

It was only about one week after I got home from Ethiopia that Yemamu called me and said that Desse, Habtamu's father was gravely ill. They feared for his life. He was suffering from severe Hepatitis and had a raging infection that his body was not fighting off. Yemamu and Sisay had brought him from the garbage dump to the Center and were trying get him medical attention. Yemamu asked me to pray. I had an immediate lump in my throat as he told me the news. All I could think of was this...

I remember literally falling to my knees and begging God to spare this man. I could not bear the thought of Habtamu losing his father too. I simply couldn't. Yemamu sent me this picture of Desse...

I literally asked everyone I knew to join in me in praying for this man. About a week later, I got a phone call from Yemamu telling me that Desse was completely better. He was healed. Totally and completely. I'm pretty sure I was jumping up and down in my bedroom when I got the news. I was reminded of this scripture from Psalm 72:12-13:

For he will deliver the needy who cry out, the afflicted who have no one to help. He will take pity on the weak and the needy and save the needy from death.

And that's exactly what happened. Desse says that he was as good as dead, but that God reached down and rescued Him and restored his life. Desse is now working at the Hands for the Needy Center as the gardener, tending to the crops they are growing. Yemamu is working to secure a house for Desse and Habtamu close to the Center.

GOD MAKES ALL THINGS NEW.

Another World Is Possible

2011-11-18T07:00:00.001-07:00

"Spend the whole of your one wild and beautiful life investing in many lives, and God simply will not be outdone." - Ann Voskamp

I was asked to speak this week to a group of women on the topic of "Gratitude in Serving". I pretty much cried through the whole thing. I cried because God's call to serve is so much more than us attending a "serving event", and we're missing it. It's so much more than we allow it to be. It's a call to death. The core of the Gospel is a laying down of our lives for God and others. When we surrender to that, something beautiful starts to happen inside us. We die to ourselves...to our selfishness...to our own ideas and embrace the fuller life that God has for us as we live poured out for others. And that kind of living will bring you to tears...the full, happy, grateful kind.

You know how sometimes someone will say something or you'll read something that puts words to the things in your heart? I woke up to the following blog post that my friend Jobin wrote from Calcutta where he lives out his days loving and serving a community of orphans there. I know that he won't mind me sharing it here with you. Read slowly, friends. There's a message in here that we need to understand in the fiber of our being.

It always starts with death.

I'm reminded of it in the silence of the streets that sigh with the displaced and the forgotten. In those dark lonely alleys sandwiched between slums. In the ashes of the night that once burned bright. In the wishes of the dying man for a second chance in a second world. In the dreams of the widow with a child in her arms. In the plea of the orphan with a story in her eyes. And even in the pages of the leather-bound Book beside my bed with the red letters.

There's no escape from it. There's no way but through it. There's no life but because of it. Everyday that I am alive, I behold brokenness and death in the dialectic of life. But this death doesn't refer to one that brings you to a box six feet under, rather something with a much deeper sense of the world. And although it's nonsensical to put that word in parameters, I write these words with reticence how it personally feels at a depth of 1200 feet below sea level. At a depth where death has less to do with the physical, but rather a dying which is so real through every breath of the metaphysical. The very eke of my existence is found between the meaning of the word from the pages containing the red letters. How I can only be alive to the orphan, when I die to myself. How I can only share in the suffering of the displaced, when I die to myself. How I can only care for the destitute and the dying, when I die to myself.

In the brokenness I daily behold, there's no denying the asperity and reality of physical death in the stories of the downtrodden, the destitute and the dying. Yet my own story is one that is knitted with death. That as I learn to lay my life down, I find myself standing my ground. As I learn to lose my life, I end up finding it. As I learn to die to myself, I find myself living for love. And to that end, I pray to live and move and have my being in Love.

I know that I'm nothing more than dust held together by water and blood. There's nothing more to these human frames fueled by the rise and fall of the cage within. Like a hero of mine puts it - this skin and bones is a rental, no one makes it out alive. Every breath I take brings me one step closer to the grave. Every tear that is shed brings me closer to a cross. Every day that I wake up, I die a little more. So I die and die again to be reborn for the Kingdom of the Heavens, where I lose my life to find myself. Like a seed that falls to the ground and dies, like a tear that is shed of our eyes, like a candle burning bright, nothing worth living comes any other way. Because it is the loss of a life-less yet life-giving seed that springs something new. It is the heaviness of a teardrop on bended-knee that brings a lightness to the yoke of the cross. It is the pain in feeling when all is melting away like wax on a candle that brings light to these dark lonely alleys. And this death and rebirth brings to a place 1200 feet below sea level, which evidently is the lowest point on the planet. It's where I find myself with nowhere lower to go, and nothing left to let go.

Sometimes I really do feel like someone who has lost it all, but I become reminded again of how much more needs to die in me. When I think of these writings, to be reminded that I'm not the author but a messenger. When I think if I could ever share this life with, to be reminded of the orphan waiting to be held. When the moments move fast from unwavering faith to creeping doubts, narrow roads to unexpected turns, mountain tops to crashing valleys. Like a common friend without any company, like a singer without his song, like a father without a son. I'm still looking for a place to belong, still searching to be found again. There is an ecclesiastical longing through the emptiness to remind me that with nothing left of myself, there is more of grace. That the end of myself, is where it all starts. The beginning is always where my end begins. It always starts with death.

And broken as I am, weak as I am - grace is what I am.

So my tears become words to sing, and I live dying to life, to live for Love. I'm trusting that even in the emptiness of my well, I can draw from a river that doesn't run dry. There is river here somewhere 1200 feet below, and here in this river I'm reminded of a death which is ephemeral but a rebirth which is eternal. That life is but a vapor, and Love is like a river. And I'm just humbled that the Maker of the Heavens would use someone as broken as me, to behold beauty in the brokenness and life in the ashes.

In a world of 3D, 3G and be all you can be, I'm learning what it means to be free. From a world that could never placate to what I'm buying by what it has to sell, but to live in the absolution of another world. I'm done chasing chartered territories and certitudes. I hear another world calling. A world where those who mourn will be comforted, and the last will be first. A world where every tear will be wiped from our eyes, and justice will be our right-side. So I chose to live today for the coming world, as an advocate of the poor and a lover of the least. Yes, it starts with death, but death is only the beginning. Another world is possible. It's in you, it's in me.

The Time Is Now

2011-10-23T12:17:00.001-06:00

I had a conversation with a friend this week about the tension that exists in using our voices. Sometimes I feel like I am constantly talking about issues - the orphan crisis, sex trafficking, poverty and disease. This past week as the situation at the Son of God Orphanage in Haiti unfolded, I know every facebook status of mine and many others, was trying to rally people to sign a petition and make noise so that the orphanage would be closed. I was thinking about how people scrolling through their facebook home page would sigh as they saw yet one more status of mine about the kids in Haiti. I bet some (or many) were thinking "Can't she just go back to posting funny videos of her son or talking about the weather? This is getting annoying." Believe me, I've had the same response to others. We so easily grow tired of people "bothering" us with all this depressing stuff.

How much is too much? Is there such a thing as too much as we in the Western World sit back sipping our latte's, playing games on our iPads while every two minutes a child is being prepared for a sexual act and we turn a blind eye, not wanting to be bothered? I think there's a reason God told Isaiah to "Shout it aloud, do not hold back. Raise your voice like a trumpet. Declare to my people their rebellion and to the house of Jacob their sins. For day after day they seek me out; they seem eager to know my ways, as if they were a nation that does what is right and has not forsaken the commands of its God."

I personally have spent many years being one who "seems eager to know God's ways" but have all the while refused to actually DO anything that reflects the God I know today. I have filled my head with knowledge while my heart remained closed off and self-consumed. I have said all the right things in religious crowds while never lifting a finger to actually do the things that I spoke about. I talked myself into a religious experience where it was all about MY comfort. MY box that I wanted God to fit into neatly. I made Him exactly who I wanted Him to be...

A God who gives me everything but costs me nothing.

But the reality is that it cost God EVERYTHING to rescue me. How can I not give Him EVERYTHING in return, no matter the cost? Standing up against injustice will cost us. It will. There is a price to pay emotionally, physically and spiritually for loving the people God loves enough to fight for them. You will be disturbed by what you see and read to the point of becoming physically ill and distraught. You will spend hours of your time praying and crying out to God on behalf of His children who are in horrific circumstances. You may not be able to walk through a grocery store without feeling a sense of guilt. You may even feel alone. I know I do sometimes. But, it's worth it because God is there.

I was talking with my friend about the Old Testament prophets...these men carried such an incredible burden. They carried the very heart of God for His people. And they were often lonely. Not very many people wanted to go hang out with the dude who was likely going to tell them that God was displeased with them. I am sure these men often felt like no one cared about their message (God's message), yet they continued to speak out in obedience to God. They wept over the people and situations in the Old Testament. They saw God's heart for His people and were compelled by God to speak out against injustice and oppression. Often it fell on deaf ears, but sometimes it didn't. Sometimes these guys would deliver their message and entire nations would change their ways. Can you imagine?

What if God wants to use OUR voices to create that kind of change in our families, in our communities, in our nation and in our world? What might have happened if no one had raised their voices to speak out against the injustice the children at Son of God Orphanage in Haiti were suffering? Those kids likely would have continued to be sold, abused and starved to death. It took ONE WEEK of all of us raising awareness of the situation for the orphanage to be closed and the children removed. Those kids are going to have the opportunity for health and wholeness now that they never would have had if we had not spoken up together.

When I think of all the people in the world who need our compassion, our prayer and our action I don't know how we can afford NOT to engage. WE are the very people God was talking to in Isaiah 58. WE have chased after a watered down religion long enough, honoring God with our mouths while our hearts are far from Him, unwilling to be the people He created us to be because of the cost. The time has come to "throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us", as Hebrews 12:1 says.

The time is NOW to get on our knees and beg God to instill in us His heart for the people in this world who are suffering. The time is NOW for us to willingly get dirty in the mess of this world, just like God did for us. The time is NOW for us to cast aside our comfort and complacency and engage in what God is already doing on this earth. If we want to live a life of joy and fullness, then we will have to lay our lives down again and again. God's call to abundant life has never been about the abundance of our things or our comfort. It has always been an abundance that is rooted in sacrifice and selflessness which springs out of His love for us.

God, rescue us from our prisons of saftey and self.

Use Your Voice

2011-10-16T23:53:00.001-06:00

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.”
- Proverbs 31:8-9

Right now miles and miles away from us in Haiti there is an orphanage where about 125 children have been sent in the recent past to be cared for, fed, educated and loved. I know of this orphanage personally because Children's HopeChest was at one time connected to it. A pastor and his family ran the "Son of God" orphanage and collected money for food and medical care for the children. It has recently come to light after a fifteen month investigation that the pastor who ran this orphanage was trafficking the children. The children were never receiving food, education, medical care or love. As it turns out, they have been living in hell. They have been and are being abused, starved, burned, neglected and trafficked. My stomach churns even typing those words. We can't begin to know the horror these children have faced and are facing at this very moment.

Here are some of the facts that have surfaced (much of this is taken from my friend Tom Davis' blog post):

- Children have been and are currently being trafficked from the Son of God Orphanage. The evidence on human trafficking leads back to the Son of God orphanage. The orphanage director was imprisoned in July as part of a police-led operation that resulted in his conviction of trafficking a child.

- Haitian investigators have told our team the evidence suggests organ harvesting and trafficking as well.

-As recently as October 10, American volunteers took children with late-stage starvation out of the orphanage and to local doctors. Without this intervention, the doctors confirmed the children could have died of starvation.

- After boldly bringing these facts to the attention of government officials, American citizens received death threats from those associated with the current orphanage leadership–documented by the Haitian police.

- Numerous photos show extreme physical abuse and neglect. U.S. and Haitian doctors have documented cases of severe abuse and neglect including burns and broken bones. (The following pictures are children at this orphanage and come from a legitimate source on the ground in Haiti who is fighting for these kids. I share them with you to motivate you to do something on their behalf).

Obvious Neglect

Burns around the mouth

13 Day Old Burn

Where once there were 125 children, there are now just over 75 children left. They are disappearing. These children are being trafficked and there is evidence of organ harvesting.

If ever there was a time to speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, it is NOW - as in this very minute. This trafficking is REAL, it is documented, and it must be stopped. Every moment is precious.

We need your help to spread this news to the CNN Freedom Project by signing our Change.org petition today. We are petitioning CNN to bring their international media voice and passion for ending slavery into the Son of God Orphanage. Please urge CNN to expose the corruption within the Haitian government, and allow international organizations to secure the children from the child traffickers who are now controlling the orphanage.

This orphanage must be shut down. Other orphanages are ready and willing to take these children. Please urge CNN to cover this story and work to close this orphanage and re-locate the children immediately. We need coordinated, concerted pressure. We believe the best chance these children have is through a focused effort to bring international media and political attention to their abuse, and neglect. Children in Haiti at this orphanage are being trafficked. They are being abused, burned, and starved. We have other orphanages ready to take these children, but need to bring MORE focused attention to this matter so that official action will be taken now. Take time to stop this. Sign the petition, and get everyone you know to do the same.

SIGN THE PETITION NOW

Please, please use the voice that God gave you to speak for those who cannot speak for themselves. These children are innocent victims who literally need rescued. In ADDITION to signing the petition (we need 10,000 signatures!) please flood all available outlets.

You can:

- Post to Facebook and urge your friends to sign the petition.

- If you use Twitter, tweet this right now, using hashtags #cnnfreedom, #endslavery, and #not_for_sale

- Call your elected officials and forward them this article. We can provide the file of evidence DIRECTLY to their office for further investigation.

- Re-post on your blog

Thank you, friends. I will keep you posted as things unfold. In the meantime we pray without ceasing for rescue for these children.

UPDATE: As of 10/18 we have over 7,000 signatures on our original petition to CNN and have had three national news agencies say they are looking into the story. There are contacts being made with the government - there is MOVEMENT on behalf of these kids as of today! We are starting a follow up petition to the President of Haiti to close the orphanage down. We have been told that change.org will feature our petition to the President on their front page, which receives heavy traffick, if we can get enough signatures on it. Your voices are bringing this atrocity to light. We must continue to apply pressure. Please share the link below with your friends and ask them to do the same. It's two minutes out of your day. Your two minutes for a child's health and rescue...not a bad use of time.

SIGN THE PETITION TO THE PRESIDENT OF HAITI HERE!!

What's in Your Hand?

2011-10-07T12:14:00.004-06:00

After my first trip to Africa - Uganda, to be exact - I came home with tons to process. It was my first encounter with extreme poverty face to face and I felt like it ripped open my insides. Seriously - like I was raw and bleeding. I'll never forget riding in the bus on a long, dirt road and passing a little boy...he couldn't have been more than three. He was walking all by himself barefoot with not another person in sight for as far as I could see. He was completely alone. If we saw that scene unfold in America, we'd be slamming on our brakes and bringing that child with us. There would be none of this leaving him on the street by himself business. But in Uganda, we drove on by. If we had stopped for every child who was walking alone we'd never have made it down the road. It is life there.

I've had several people who have traveled and seen this sort of thing personally, ask me how to cope with their life here in America after witnessing such pain in other places. I'd like to say it gets easier with every trip. For me it doesn't get easier, but it has become different. I remember after my first two trips to Africa coming home and feeling this insane tension inside of me. How do I go back to my air conditioned home with my full refrigerator, cable television and every single comfort I could possibly want? How do I turn on one of the 8 faucets in my house and have immediate access to clean water when people risk their very lives walking miles and miles a day to find it? How do I open my closet and decide which of my 12 pairs of shoes I should put on for the day when so many go barefoot and have jiggers burrowing up into their feet? How is it I can find myself complaining about my job when literally millions would give anything for the chance to work like I do? As I lay in the comfort of my down blankets and soft mattress at night, how can I not help but think of the children who lay their heads down on the dirt - left alone.

I am talking about TENSION in the truest sense of the word. Let's be honest. We abhor tension. We hate anything that causes us discomfort. And when I came back from Uganda I just wanted to be rid of it. I wanted to figure out how to make it go away and stay away. I didn't want to have the internal struggle about how much I had and how little they did. I didn't want to feel guilty for getting Starbucks or going to the movies. As much as I know God was trying to break my heart and help me embrace the poor and the orphaned, there was a very real part of me that just wanted their faces to disappear from my memory. I didn't really know how to handle all the tension and inner turmoil I felt, and to be frank, I still don't. But this last trip to Ethiopia helped me realize some things.

I hope that what I'm learning on this journey might help some of you who feel the same way I do - torn. I know all of our paths and journeys are different, but at their core they are the same because God is always the same. His heart will always beat for the marginalized and the oppressed. So, that means our hearts should always beat for them too. And in that, we are the same. We are responsible. We are called to do something.

I think that what I'm learning now is that as much as I want to sprint the opposite direction of this tension, there is some tension that is good - God given, even. Rather than fight it, ignore it, choke on it or hate it - I am learning to embrace it. The tension keeps the realities that our brothers and sisters all over the world face real for me. It keeps them always before me. I almost would liken this kind of tension to a burden. There are different kinds of burdens. There are the heavy kind that we feel we might collapse under, then there are the burdens that are almost like extensions of ourselves. They inhabit our hearts and thoughts...they can actually bring us joy because they are rooted in love. There was a period of time where I thought I might collapse under the knowledge of how people were living. I felt like I was suffocating in my own life - held captive by the pictures of distended bellies, gaping wounds, empty eyes and crying children. I came through that rather heavy season of my life by both accepting the things that God was teaching me and learning that I wasn't helpless to make a difference.

But this other kind of tension doesn't feel so heavy. In fact, it even feels hopeful. I have actually found myself praying over the past few weeks that God wouldn't take this tension away. It's what keeps me compassionate, engaged and on my knees in prayer. I have seen the heartbreak and the oppression up close- I know the wretched marks it leaves on people. But I have also seen unspeakable hope spring up in places that you just don't expect it to. And that is what we hold onto - HOPE. Some days hope comes easy, and others we have to tenaciously fight for it. But it is always there. It doesn't go away. Part of what gives us hope is discovering our purpose. If we are called to care for the poor, the orphan and the widow (which we ARE!), then discovering how God wants us to be engaged in that is a critical step in coming to some sense of peace within ourselves. The other helpful (and quite obvious!) realization is that I cannot fix all the brokenness on my own. I could spend a lifetime trying but it would never happen. That's God's job. I get to participate, but I, by myself, am not the answer. My job is to love and obey wherever, whenever, however God asks me to.

For those of us who believe in God, we know that this world is not our home. We live in the constant tension of that. Our hearts ache for God's complete and full reign here on earth because only then will there be no suffering and pain. Only then will our tension vanish before our eyes. But we are to bring heaven to earth now. Remember how Jesus prayed a little prayer where he said "Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven"? We do not sit here aimlessly and pine away for the future. We bring the reality of God's love, hope and restoration to the suffering and marginalized NOW. Does the act of truly seeing the needs of this world turn our stomachs? Does it cause us to question the way we live our lives in pursuit of the American dream? Does it cost us to enter into someone else's pain? Might we be asked to give up everything we know? Is there any peace or joy in the process of having our hearts torn open and our lives turned upside down? Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!!

God hasn't created us to live sad, miserable, broken lives. He has created us for abundant life in Him. While our engagement in caring for the poor might cause our world to be shaken up and our hearts to ache and be burdened - there is tremendous joy in this journey of loving others. When we look at Jesus' life, we see him weeping over the pain of others and literally carrying the weight of the world's sin on his shoulders. But he also got to see the lame walk, the the blind see, the sick healed. These things must have filled Jesus with pleasure. You don't watch someone who has never even stood up, pick up their mat and run and leap for joy without feeling an incredible sense of delight! And so, we hold both the pain of those who suffer and the joy of seeing lives transformed in both hands. If we never knew pain, we would never know joy.

Some days are HARD. I was face down on my floor two days ago weeping (like ugly snot cry...you know the one) and praying for people on the other side of the world who face such extreme hardship. I thought my heart would explode from the weight of it. Then there are days where you get news that catapults you to the heights of joy because a prayer was answered or you got to see transformation in the life of someone in need - you got to experience the kingdom brought to earth.

So really, coping is embracing all that God has for us - the good, the hard, the beautiful, the ugly, the seemingly impossible. It is by Him and through Him that all things hold together. We couldn't hold anything together if we wanted to. We just have to approach God with willing hearts and open hands for whatever it is that He wants to give us. The tension that may come from that is GOOD, a blessing really. I might even go so far to say that if we aren't experiencing this kind of tension as we walk out our love for God on this earth, then maybe we're missing something.

As to exactly what your part is to play in God's purposes here on earth...that's for you to find out. :) And in my opinion, finding out is half the fun! I'll leave you with some wise words from Norma Cook...

We read in the Bible that Moses had been tending sheep out in the desert when God called him to lead a huge flock of people on a perilous journey to the Promised Land. Of course, Moses felt inadequate, and told God so! God asked Moses, “What is that in your hand?” “A rod”, Moses replied—just a simple tool of the trade for a sheep herder. Then God showed Moses that even simple tools and simple people can be used in mighty ways when yielded to an Almighty God. Maybe God is showing you a need that you feel inadequate to meet. Your resources are insufficient and your skills are lacking. God couldn’t possibly use someone like you…could He?

2 Corinthians 8:12 tells us: 'If there is first a willing mind, it is accepted according to what a person has, not what he doesn’t have.' So…what is that in your hand? A pen, a phone, or car keys? A hammer, a wrench, or a shovel? A mixing bowl, knitting needles, or a musical instrument? When offered to God in service to others, it can accomplish a great purpose. It all starts with a tender heart and willing hands—yours and mine. And together, we’ll see God change this world - one person at a time.

So, what's in your hand??

Extracting the Precious from the Worthless

2011-10-06T00:41:00.012-06:00

Etanaite and her son

out·cast
noun

1. a person who is rejected or cast out, unwanted, not accepted
2. rejected matter; garbage

She lives in a community already rejected by the world around it. Yet, within Korah she has been tossed aside herself. It's a curious thing, how people who are outcasts themselves can put that label even more brutally on one of their own. She did nothing to cause this, nothing to deserve being shunned by her own community.

She was raped. Just before turning 17.

She now has a son just one year old as a result of that rape.

And while she may be labeled an outcast, she has a name - Etanaite. And behind her name is a beautiful human being, both inside and out. If people would only take the time to see.

My friends Yemamu and Sisay did take the time to see. Because of that, we were welcomed into Etanaite's home to hear her story firsthand.

We stepped into her one room house to find her little brother and her son playing by the bench.

The room couldn't have been more than 6x8. We asked how many people lived in the room. There were 7 of them. Etanaite's mother, Etanaite and her baby, and Etanaite's four siblings.

They all slept on this bed or on the floor...

There used to be eight of them in this small room, until about 6 months ago when her father died. He was blind and would go into the city to beg on the streets. The money he brought home would feed them on some days. After his death, Etanaite's mother, Zenebe, went to the garbage dump to scavenge for food and materials to sell. The dump is where she found the bottle her grandson is holding below. Dirty doesn't begin to describe it.

Zenebe and her grandson

After Etanaite was raped and gave birth to her son, she found work outside the city in the countryside making fabric. She made 450birr ($26)a month. Half of that money went to pay the rent for their one room house and the other half went to pay for her transportation to work. There was no money for food other than what her father brought in from begging. When he died, the family started struggling even more. Zenebe started going to the dump with her grandson on her back to find food.

What heightens the tragedy of this situation for me is that this family is alone. Because of the stigma associated with rape and with giving birth out of wedlock, they are shut out. They live in a community that they are not welcomed in. As we listened to Etanaite tell her story, tears slid down her face. Now, at the age of 18, she knows she has no prospects for marriage because of a horror that was perpetrated against her. Along with mourning the loss of her father, she mourns the loss of her future. Or at least she did, until Love walked through the doorway of her house in the form of Yemamu and Sisay. Jeremiah 29:11 says that God has plans for Etanaite. Plans to prosper her and to give her a hope and a future. And that is exactly what is happening.

Can you even imagine what Etanaite must have thought as Yemamu and Sisay came into her home and asked how their family was? When was the last time anyone had asked that simple question of her? But they went further than just talk. They registered her siblings in their feeding program to help alleviate some of the financial stress on the the family. And they then proceeded to offer Etanaite a job at the Center helping to cook and clean, which she joyfully accepted. They pay her twice what she was making at her job outside the city and she now just has to walk for two minutes to work, allowing her to use her transportation money for something else. Etanaite's brother had been struggling and sleeping at the garbage dump without coming home since their father's death, but now that he is enrolled in the feeding program he has changed. She says he comes home every day and is like a different person. Etanaite said that they have so much hope now.

We had bought baby bottles, blankets and a new dress for Zenebe, which we gave to her on our last day in Ethiopia. Yemamu and Sisay had brought two mattresses from their own home to give them so that the children would not have to sleep on the dirty, hard floor. Etanaite's tears flowed freely upon receiving the gifts. I asked Yemamu why she was crying and he said it was because she was very, very happy. She said no one had ever treated them this way and cared for them like this. She said that she thanked God for the new life they could start to make for themselves because of the feeding program and her new job.

What I really think she was thanking God for was that someone had stopped to see their pain and enter into it with them. Someone had cared. There's a little verse tucked away in Jeremiah 15 that says "And if you extract the precious from the worthless, you will become My spokesman". That's exactly what Yemamu & Sisay have done. They have taken time to see that which is precious hidden away in the seemingly worthless, and they have called it out. By their love and care for Etanaite she is seeing that she is NOT an outcast to the One that really matters - to the One who knit her together and knows the number of hairs on her head. She is a daughter of the King and is valuable and precious in His eyes.

And isn't this every one of our stories, really? Hasn't God taken our broken, messed up lives and transformed them into something beautiful and precious? Hasn't He rescued us from the label of outcast and given us an identity as His own children, despite our history? Hasn't He offered us hope?

There are Etanaite's all around us...people who have been rejected and labeled. Will we make the choice like Yemamu did to seek them out? Will we reach out in compassion and kindness? Will our actions on their behalf prove our words to them? Will we reflect the heart of God in extracting the precious from the worthless?

"For God is a God of the humble, the miserable, the troubled, the oppressed, the despairing, and those who have become totally nothing. He lifts the lowly, feeds the hungry, heals the blind, comforts the miserable and troubled. For He is the almighty Creator who makes everything from nothing." - Luther

The Boys

2011-09-29T17:22:00.002-06:00

So, if you missed my last post about the garbage dump, you might want to go read it so that this post makes sense. The garbage dump in Korah (Ethiopia) ripped my heart out. Or, maybe I should say the people who go to the garbage dump every day or LIVE there ripped my heart out. Garbage is garbage, but the people who are left with no choice but to frequent this hell hole are not.

The day we walked through the dump I knew we were going to give food to the boys who lived there. But you just can't prepare yourself for something like that. You can't understand the stench, the filth, the grime that these boys live in until you see it. Until the smell hits your nostrils and turns your stomach. Until you try to scrape off layers of muddy filth from hands that have been searching through the garbage for unfound "treasures".

Until you struggle to see what's in front of you because of the hoards of flies buzzing all around. Until you step in the excrement that is everywhere. Until you take in the faces of the ones who live in it all day every day.

My friends Yemamu and Sisay who grew up scavenging in this dump, intentionally continue to walk through it to find children just like the ones they met above. They want to bring them into the feeding program they run and help provide for their basic needs and education. Understand that NO ONE goes into the trash dump if they don't have to. But Yemamu and Sisay choose to go. They no longer have to, but they are compelled. Much like Jesus who went to the forgotten, the outcast, the people deemed worthless - the least of these. He sought them out. There was something precious Jesus saw in the people that the world had turned their backs on. And let me tell you, there is plenty that is precious about the boys above too.

We took these 12 boys who live in the garbage dump back to the Hands for the Needy center to profile them for the program. I want to protect their exact identities, but here are just a few snippets from some of their stories...

Boy #1: Not in school. He and his father live at the trash dump. Mother was murdered. His father had to relinquish his other 5 children to government orphanages because he could not afford to care for them. This boy wants to go to school and be a doctor.

Boy #2: Not in school. Has a mother but is not living with her because she is a beggar and lives on the street. He wants to be a pharmacist.

Boy #3: Age 16. His parents died when he was 5 and he lived on the street. He lives at the dump now and from what he makes from the metals he collects there, he pays for himself to go to school. He wants to be a teacher.

Boy #4: Age 14. He stopped school last year. He has a mother who lives in Korah but he left to go live at the dump because she was abusive, but he wants to go back home and live peacefully with her. He wants to be a teacher.

Boy #5: Age 11. Not in school. His parents died when he was a young child. He has had no one to care for him and has lived in the trash dump ever since. He wants to be a doctor.

As we heard from these boys, each of their stories was more raw and painful than the last. Yet the way these boys cared for each other was beautiful and amazing. Talk about a sense of community and brotherhood...these boys had it. But as a mom I just wanted to gather them all up and hug them and never let go.

The boys find everything in the dump - including their clothing. They find clothes, wear them for two weeks, then throw them back in the dump once they find "newer" clothes. It's disposable clothing in the truest sense of the word. And their shoes...

NONE of their shoes fit them, and few of them actually matched. They just used what they could find. I think about all the sharp things I encountered in the dump and I look at the flimsy plastic boot on the boy above and I cringe. Everyone on my team did. So, we decided to do something about it.

We decided to pack up all twelve boys into a taxi along with our whole crew for a total of 22 people in this small "bus". It was hilarious...you can watch a video of us piling everyone in HERE. And we took all 12 boys to the Mercado to buy good, sturdy shoes that actually fit them. On the way, some of the boys from the dump discovered the wonders of my iPhone. :) By the end of the bus ride I got an error message from my iPhone that it needed to "cool down" because it was overheating from use. :)

We got to the shoe store. I'm not sure there are words to describe the looks we got when walked in. At this point, the boys were still in their clothes from the dump. It was their first time in a store ever to purchase something for themselves. All of us looked a little bewildered at where to start, including the staff. We did the boys by groups - youngest first then the oldest. It was seriously so fun to watch their faces as they waited to be fit. Let's just say we brought a special smell with us into the store. :) Because of that, the store owner made the boys wear plastic bags over their feet when they tried the shoes on.

Everyone walked out of there with a new pair of shoes. I can't tell you how big the smiles were and how much my heart wanted to explode at how happy such a simple thing made them. Meanwhile, it took so long to get 12 boys fitted for shoes that our taxi driver (Yemamu's brother) resorted to napping :).

We had brought some second hand clothing from the States, but quickly realized we didn't have anything for the majority of the boys, so we also took them to buy pants, underwear, socks and sweatshirts. Because there were so many of us and because the prices for things go up substantially when the shopkeepers at the Mercado see white skin, we girls stayed back in the taxi while Yemamu and Sisay bartered. Some of the older boys were with us in the taxi waiting their turn. I looked back and saw one of the boys taking it all in from the taxi window. He sat there gazing outside...

I wondered what he was thinking as he watched all the people scurrying into shops and buying the things they needed. I thought about how when he needed something, he went scavenging through a trash heap. He was usually one of the people who watched all the taxis drive by as they walked to their destination. Yet here he was sitting inside of one observing things from the opposite standpoint for the first time. I honestly can't imagine what was going through his head.

Once everyone had purchased all that they needed, it was dark. It had taken hours to accomplish all the shopping. My stomach was hungry and I looked around at the boys. Yemamu leaned over and asked if we could take the boys out to dinner. Um...YES!!! So we went...all five of us crazy white people and a trail of 12 boys from the dump. The boys hadn't changed into their new clothes because we wanted them to shower first, so they were still in their clothing that reeked of trash. The looks we got all filing into the restaurant were priceless. I'm quite sure they didn't know what to make of us all. I wanted to stop and take a picture of the people looking at us, but figured that would be rude. :) Here's the view from one end of the long table...

We ordered everyone Cokes, which was a big deal for the boys. Actually, scratch that. Just being at a restaurant was a big deal for the boys. For most of them, it was their first time. Can you imagine? So, after we ordered dinner and Cokes we did what any ignorant Americans would. We offered them hand sanitizer. I wish I had video of THAT! Ethiopians eat with their hands and often hand feed each other as a sign of respect and love. So, we Americans are thinking the boys could use some hand sanitizer considering they spend all day in a garbage dump. We pull out our bottles and start squeezing it into the boys' hands. Yemamu and Sisay start explaining that it's just like soap and like washing their hands. All the boys are smiling and laughing until...here's where the ignorant part comes in...all of the open cuts on their hands start stinging from the alcohol that's in the sanitizer. I'm sitting there watching all their eyes get really wide and they tell Yemamu that it hurts their hands. So we Americans show them how to wave their hands in the air so that it will dry quickly and the burning will go away.

Then they all promptly got up and went to wash their hands. So funny. :) We had a GREAT time at dinner, as you can imagine. The boys were smiling and eating. Sisay got up and was hand feeding some of the older boys rather large handfuls of food. :) We even talked a few of the older boys into showing us what traditional Ethiopian dancing looked like...

It was a fabulous day. It felt good to use our resources (which many of you readers generously donated!) to help provide for the boys in such practical ways and it was pure joy to see their faces have these first time experiences. There was so much laughter that night. I'll remember it for the rest of my life. Now, dropping the boys back off at the dump that night is another blog post altogether...

The Garbage Dump (AKA... hell on earth)

2011-09-27T11:57:00.003-06:00

(Disclaimer: Let me just say that as I read back over what I have written below I realize that I can't begin to adequately describe this place. Several times while writing this I wanted to just delete the whole post because my attempts felt so futile. How do you find words for a place that has completely broken your heart? I don't think I can...so just know that as you read there is so much more behind each word.)

Oh the stench. I kept myself from gagging as we hiked up the steep, slippery mud trail and crested the top of the hill. It was almost as cruel on the eyesight as it was on my sense of smell. But, I guess that's what it was supposed to be. I was, after all, walking through the city garbage dump in the capital city of Ethiopia. I scanned the surroundings. There were vultures everywhere. Gigantic, nasty birds just waiting.

This wretched garbage dump is tied to many of the people who I got to meet a few weeks ago in Ethiopia. It's important to understand what the dump means to the people of Korah...how their lives are connected to it. I heard so many people talk about "the dump" as they would share about their daily lives. I had to experience it for myself. Here in the States, probably the only way that someone would go into a garbage dump is if they were driving a truck or bulldozer of some sort. At first glance, it appeared that there were only bulldozers and trucks at the dump. But then I looked closer. What I thought were actually garbage piles were people. There are at least 11 people in the picture below that would be easy to miss at first glance.

The people in Korah are so poor that often their only source of food is from the garbage dump. The dump also provides them a way to earn money. They spend all day collecting plastics and metals that they then sell so they can survive. You can see in the picture above that a garbage truck had just arrived and dumped "fresh" garbage. Typically, the garbage dump is covered with people scavenging, but this day was a Holiday so there weren't as many people there. The "best" trucks to watch for are the ones from the Sheraton and Hilton Hotels as well as the one that comes from the airport. These trucks have the leftover food that is thrown out. Anything and everything is fair game. The dump is frequented by people who have no other options. I mean, really...would you even go to this god-forsaken place if you didn't have to? The stench alone is enough to keep you away. But all kinds of people come here trying to find ways to survive...

Teenagers scavenging for metals and plastics...

Elderly women trying to find plastics to sell to earn some money...

Men looking for food...

We had just come from a woman's house down the hill in Korah. She was house bound because she had lost her leg. She had stepped on something sharp in the dump while she was scavenging and didn't have the money to get her foot treated for the wound. That foot wound infected her leg and eventually turned into gangrene. She became very ill and had to have her leg amputated as a result. It is maddening that such a simple thing like a cut foot ends up taking someone's leg and ultimately, their livelihood. That would never happen here in America, yet it happens every day in Ethiopia. My friend Abbey, who is a nurse, was with me on this trip and EVERY wound she cared for was a foot wound. Every single one. You can't imagine the types of plastic shoes that people walk through the dump in - they are completely unprotected. People contract HIV by stepping on needles that have been used to treat an infected person. People wear bloody clothes that they find in the dump from hospitals. They walk through all sorts of feces and bacteria. This garbage dump is so much more than a place that holds trash. It is a place where the people who come start to believe that they are the very garbage they are there to collect. It is oppressive, dark and hopeless. These are people without choices - because of their poverty, because others who could help have chosen not to care about their plight and because people just don't know it even exists. We don't know this kind of life is what many people wake up to day after day after day.

Walking through this dump was like watching a nightmare unfold. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, Yemamu pointed out the two small structures across the way in the garbage dump.

The people in those structures (I can't bring myself to call it a house) were the reason why we had come to the dump in the first place. We wanted to bring them food on New Year's Day...food that they wouldn't have to scavenge for. They walked across the dump to greet us.

They were boys. Some of them orphaned. Some of them there because their family in Korah couldn't provide for them. My mama's heart started to explode at what I was seeing. The boy in the tan leather jacket lived with his father at the dump...you'll hear more about him later. We greeted the boys and they took us down the path to their "house". This short video clip will give you a glimpse into what it consisted of on the inside. As I stood there filming the inside of their house (which they had welcomed me to do), the tears started sliding down my cheeks. I kept thinking about the inside of my own house. I kept thinking about the lifestyle that my own children live. I kept thinking that the boys standing in front of me at that trash dump were God's children. I kept thinking that this couldn't be real. And my heart literally ached. I wanted to scream. It was all so wrong. This was never how things were meant to be. Children weren't made to live in garbage dumps. Seeing it all was so painful. I can't imagine how living it must be.

But seeing is crucial for us. We MUST choose to see. Honestly, there is a part of me that wishes I had never walked through that garbage dump, because now I know. And it hurts to know. Some days it eats me up to know. Some nights I lay my head on my pillow in my warm, comfortable bed and all I can think of is that nasty, filthy, fly-infested tarp where those boys lay their heads. But I would do it again and again because becoming aware of other people's realities is what leads to compassion and ultimately, change. I know not everyone can go to Ethiopia and see what I saw first hand. But my prayer is that you will choose to see through stories and pictures, the people in this small corner of the world... that you will come to know the boys who live in this dump not just as statistics but as precious human beings who are important and valuable. I hope that you will start to see the kind of difference that people like you and me can make for these boys and others like them. I pray that we can shake our comfort off long enough to take a look at the situations our brothers and sisters find themselves in and be compelled to do something about it.

Proverbs 24:12 says: "Once our eyes are opened we cannot pretend we do not know what to do. God, who weighs our hearts and keeps our souls knows we know and holds us responsible to act."

My prayer is that our eyes become opened. And that Proverb is right because I couldn't pretend I didn't know what to do if I wanted to. I KNOW now. And knowing other people's pain and situations is actually a gift, because along with the pain of knowing, there is great joy in being part of the solution...in embracing what we see and throwing our arms wide around it - dirt and pain and all. Transformation happens and let me tell you, it is pure joy to be a part of. Wait til you hear what happened next for these boys...it's a story I can't wait to tell. :)

Jesus With Skin On

2011-09-22T23:25:00.000-06:00

I don't really have the words to describe the kind of love I saw in action the past two weeks in Ethiopia. I've heard the term "Jesus with skin on" tossed around, but I'm not sure I ever really grasped its full meaning until I watched my two friends Yemamu and Sisay in Korah. God has uniquely positioned them to minister to this community. They both grew up in Korah. Yemamu's parents both suffer from leprosy - his father can't see most of the time and his mother lost her leg to the disease. Sisay lost his father many years ago to sickness. They can relate to the pain and the suffering that exists in Korah because they have lived it. They have scavenged at the trash dump from the age of 12 for food or metals to sell. You might think this would harden them, but in fact, the opposite has happened. These men care deeply for the community they grew up in and have chosen to stay and help the people in Korah.

The people in this community are oppressed by disease, death, hunger and poverty. Korah literally means "cursed". These people are outcasts in their own city because of their poverty and disease. But through their actions, Yemamu and Sisay are helping to break the power of the label that has been put on this community. They are breathing life into dead things, bringing beauty from the dirt, filling emptiness with love and hope.

I was in awe of the humility and gentleness that Yemamu and Sisay exuded. They were never in too much of a hurry. They crossed busy streets to greet people, taking the time to ask how they were. They stopped walking when a little one pulled on their arm, wanting their attention. They bent low to look the children in the eyes.

They carried with them any leftover food they had and gave it to the beggars on the street - always. They wrapped their arms around the suffering.

They gently led blind women to chairs. They cleaned gaping wounds day after day.

They looked a young, raped girl in the eyes and offered her hope when everyone around her offered her judgment. They rolled up the hem of my jeans to protect them from the mud. They walked through a garbage dump to find boys who needed food.

They gave shirts off their backs and belongings out of their own home to those who needed them. They went straight to the people who no one wanted anything to do with.

In a community full of outcasts they were present and engaged. They radiated love and spoke value and worth to hearts who were convinced they were garbage.

I witnessed Jesus with skin on. Again and again.

Before I start sharing stories I wanted you to know where it all started - with two men dedicated to sacrificing for the least of these...giving all they are for the sake of the vulnerable, that the "cursed" would have hope and live in the abundance of joy they were meant to have. Simply beautiful.

Together, they run a feeding program (and so much more!) called Hands for the Needy Ethiopia. What God has done in just one year to bring this organization into being is beyond words. There have been so many hurdles and difficulties along the way, but last week they received the final piece of paper they needed to officially begin feeding the children. I am amazed, humbled and privileged to be a part of the work they are doing in Korah. And I know the best is yet to come...

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor...to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve — to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor. They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations. And you will be called priests of the LORD, you will be named ministers of our God. Instead of their shame my people will receive a double portion, and instead of disgrace they will rejoice in their inheritance.

- Isaiah 61

I remember...

2011-09-21T15:13:00.000-06:00

I'm back from Ethiopia...well, at least my body is back. I'm quite sure I left most of my heart there. I find myself immediately hit with the reality of my life here...work emails to catch up on, grocery runs to make, kids to spend time with, bills to pay, a calendar to manage. But in the all the scurry and madness that marks our lives here in America, I remember.

I remember the faces of children being fed more than one meal a day for the first time...

I remember the dirty dwellings falling apart that house people full of joy or in deepest pain...

I remember the garbage dump where people scavenge for food...

I remember the face of a handicapped girl playing soccer with one foot...

I remember the young girl raped and her son who held the dirty bottle that his grandma had found in the dump for him...

I remember the the face of the man who grew up scavenging in the dump, caring for the young orphaned boy who lives there now...

I remember that hope springs up in the most unlikely places...

I remember that I find my life when I'm willing to lose it for someone else.

I have a lot to share about this last trip to Ethiopia. A LOT. But, I'm going to take my time. I want to do justice to what I saw and experienced, so I'm going to slow down and allow myself time to process and then share my stories with you. I can tell you that the past two weeks have been the most humbling weeks in my life. I have seen what God looks like when He puts on skin and walks around loving people and it has stirred me in ways I didn't anticipate. Can't wait to share more with you guys...thanks for being patient with me as I process. Much, much more to come!

Live Your Story

2011-09-02T11:41:00.000-06:00

I'm an emotional wreck today...but of the best kind. I'm not sure what it is about today, but my heart is so full... so expectant.

Two years ago on September 7th I flew to Uganda - my first time setting foot on African soil. Next week on September 7th I will fly to Ethiopia. It's impossible to describe what has happened in the past two years in my life and in my heart. You might call it revelation or awakening. Whatever you call it, it has changed my world, my faith and my desires. It has made me more alive than I've ever been and has brought me into a fuller understanding of who God is. These are not small things. I am not who I was.

I listened to my friend, Tom Davis tell his story last night and was struck with the redemptive beauty of what God creates out of our stories. You and I are stories in progress. "The End" won't be written on our lives until we meet God face to face someday. He is writing our stories. The God of the universe is authoring our lives. Through conflicts, valleys, mountaintops, the mundane...He is writing something amazing with us. And all of our stories are a part of a larger volume that is shaping the direction of the world.

It's been said many times before, but it bears repeating: We are not meant to live our lives on the sidelines, watching a great event unfold. Our lives are to be part of the action, part of the story. We weren't designed to sit in a seat shoving our faces full of foot longs and nachos while the people on the field sprint, kick, push and score. We are not meant to be onlookers! Even Adam and Eve at the beginning of creation were given a purpose! I have been an onlooker most of my life...thinking that what other people were doing was great, but it wasn't something I'd be good at, or it wasn't anything I had a desire to do. So I stayed glued to my seat while the excitement of participating in something important blew right past me.

The past two years have shaken me out of my idleness. There is absolutely nowhere else I'd rather be than in the middle of the action...in the thick of the story. Because God doesn't just write a story to write a story. He writes stories with our lives because He does things through them - through us! He draws people to Him, He brings people out of darkness, He feeds and clothes people, He fills them with joy, He shows people their value, He redeems broken, ugly things and makes them beautiful.

At the crux of being a willing participant in the story God has for us is surrendering. I have had to set aside all of my ideas of what my life should look like and say "God, I want YOU and what YOU want for me more than I want anything else in my life. There is nothing else I desire - just You." I don't want to settle for ordinary, when God is calling me to a crazy, wild adventure with Him. Does it scare me? YES!!!!!!!!!!!! When we look at the people in the Bible who were close friends with Jesus, it didn't end too well for most of them...beheadings, prison stays, beatings, hanging upside down on crosses...being stoned to death. As they walked with Jesus they often didn't know where their next meal was coming from or where they would lay their head or what a single day would hold. BUT. Their willingness to be a part of the story Jesus had for them changed the course of history. A band of 12 men started the spread of the gospel all over the world. They healed the sick. They spoke boldly and did miraculous things in the face of danger because they believed living out God's story for them was more important than anything that could harm their physical bodies.

I want that. Even when the world may look at me and think the way I live my life is crazy and doesn't make sense and that I'm more than a little "out there". I want God's story for me more than I want my own comfort. More than I want safety and security. More than I want the American dream. More than I want to be liked. More than I want the things that make me happy. My happiness and joy is found in living out the story God is writing with my life.

This trip to Ethiopia is just another chapter in my story, but I have this unshakable sense that it will be a defining one. I have a high anticipation of how God is going to show up...I'm not just excited about the trip - I am expectant and hungry for what God will do and how He will reveal Himself. I just want more of Him. I want people there to experience Him in profound and real ways that leave them no room for doubt. Heck, I want that for myself!!

So, I'm embracing my story - the one that has already been written (despite some of its ugliness and darkness) and the continued story that I have yet to experience. God is good, guys. Even when our circumstances are not, God is. And He's worth everything. It's all trash apart from Him.

Praying that we not only embrace the story God is writing with our lives, but that we pursue it, that we seek it, that we run after it with all that we are.

Psalm 107
Let the redeemed of the LORD tell their story— those he redeemed from the hand of the foe, Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind, for he satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things. He brought them out of darkness, the utter darkness, and broke away their chains. Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind, He sent out his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave. Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love!

Bending Low

2011-08-30T08:18:00.000-06:00

"Our only real Home is Christ and Cross, and the cross is endlessly raised where the poor bow. The poor give us this — turn us from the illusion of climbing ladders and never invite us to go higher, but to come lower — to where Christ is — to the lonely, the lost and the least.

It’s our burden of stuff that blinds us and the real danger of wealth is that it causes us to lose our vision — our vision of Christ.

The poor might release the rich and the rich might release the poor and only Christ can release us all from blindness to really see — and it is contemplating the love of Christ that makes us act out the love of Christ."

- Ann Voskamp

Shedding This Skin

2011-08-19T14:30:00.001-06:00

"Some of the impossible things we're believing God for will never happen in our lives if we stand in hope instead of walking in faith." -Steven Furtick

I'm typing these words while I'm smiling and shaking my head at myself. Why do I doubt God's care and provision? What is it that sometimes makes me think that His words are for everyone else but me? 1 John 5:14 says "This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him." But, I've got to fess up...I don't live like God has heard me. Often, I live a "well, wouldn't it be nice if this would actually work out" kind of life...a life of small faith. My small faith protects me from disappointment when things don't go the way I thought they would or should. My small faith keeps me from having to face hard questions or do scary things.

How sad. Because I love and serve a HUMONGOUS God who desires that I have a humongous faith. And slowly and surely, I think I just might be taking baby steps towards a faith that does more justice to the faithfulness and character of the God I serve. I think that at the root of my small faith is fear. Big, ugly, nasty fear. Fear that God might not come through and so I don't want to risk anything just in case. My friend, Cozette shared something a few nights ago that struck a huge chord with me. Do I live under an orphan mentality or an adoption mentality? Orphans are alone...they cling to what they have because they don't know if they'll get more. They have no one to trust and no one to care for them. But as an adopted daughter of the ultimate Father, I can trust His love for me. I can know that at His very core he is Daddy...full of love and goodness. I know that He only desires my good. I can trust that if He removes something from my hand, it's only so that He can fill it up with something better. He is not a taker. He is a Giver...every good and perfect gift comes from Him.

We talked at church on Wednesday night about Isaiah 41 where God says that we don't have to fear because He is our God and will strengthen and HELP us. It seems like a relatively simple truth when you first read it:

God wants to help us. GOD wants to help us. God WANTS to help us. God wants to HELP us. God wants to help US.

Suddenly, what is simple becomes beautiful and somewhat unbelievable! And yet it is true. We have nothing to fear because God always gives us what we need. He always provides. I have seen it time and time again.

...Growing up my dad was laid off for months and we didn't have money to pay the bills. So, as a family we prayed together and asked God to provide for us. People anonymously sent us money to pay the bills just when we needed them...over and over again until my dad got a job.

...I lost a college scholarship due to funding issues and my tuition was due...I faced having to drop out. One night while vaccumming at Eddie Bauer where I worked, I found a loose diamond among the dust bunnies on the floor. I turned it in, but since no one claimed it, it was given to me since I had found it. I sold it and paid my tuition.

...After being awakened to the orphan crisis in Africa, we felt like we were supposed to go to Uganda to witness it firsthand. We had no money for the trip but people donated their sky miles to us for free tickets and God provided the rest through amazing people who just gave us the money.

...We knew we were supposed to adopt, but had $1,000 out of the $25,000 needed to start the process. God said to start anyway. So we did and little by little money showed up out of nowhere to pay all our expenses.

...We got to the point in our adoption where it was time to book our tickets to go to Ethiopia to get our son. It was so expensive! We booked two roundtrip tickets but only the charge for one ticket showed up in our bank account. I called the airline to tell them that we weren't charged for the other ticket. After hours on the phone, the lady said "I don't know what to tell you, ma'am. Your ticket has been paid for." Well, okay then!

...And then it came time to go to Ethiopia again to work with a feeding program. Financial hurdle after financial hurdle was thrown at me. Three weeks ago I had zero dollars for this trip. Today I am almost fully funded.

...We wanted to take water filter straws to Ethiopia for the 150 kids in the feeding program so that they can stick their staw into any dirty water and have it enter their bodies as clean water. That's $1500 to raise in the next two weeks. I got an email last night from someone saying that it was no problem and they'd write a check and fully fund all 150 kids with clean water straws!

...I mentioned the need for used clothing for the kids and it looks like I'll have 4 suitcases worth to take.

...My church just talked about generosity on Wednesday night and challenged us all to choose one thing that is valuable to us and sell it. The proceeds from these items will be given to me to take to the leper colony when I go for needs that arise on the ground for these people.

Yes, indeed. "Do not fear, for I am your God....I will strengthen and help you." And He has. Over and over again. He is always moving...always working...always willing to help. We need but ask. Asking propels us forward out of our small faith into the realms of possibility that exist with our humongous God.

Get me out of this skin that keeps God small and me safe! I want to shed it and leave it far behind. His love is so wide, so high, so deep...no one can fathom how He desires to move on men's behalf!

An Afternoon Well Spent

2011-08-11T17:22:00.001-06:00

Today wasn't unlike any other day off work for me. I had bills to pay, a grocery run to make, a house to clean, laundry to do, children to spend time with, dinner to get ready, emails to respond to...you get the idea. But for the past few days since writing my last blog post about how compassion is ultimately about relationship, I just haven't been able to shake something.

Bear with me as I try to put to words what is even difficult for me to identify in my own heart. I am passionate about orphans and issues of poverty. My heart is especially drawn to Ethiopia, where my son came from. I spend a significant amount of time trying to advocate and develop relationships with people in Ethiopia who are doing great work to help those in need. Sometimes people will tell me how great it is that I'm doing these things. And it IS great! But, guess what? It's easy for me in so many ways. It's what I'm passionate about...it's where my heart is...it's how I want to be spending my time. It's not really hard for me to do because I LOVE it!! Many of these interactions and relationships are with people across an ocean, which is fine, BUT what about the people right here where I live?

This started me thinking about how God says to "love your neighbor as yourself". I've done a great deal of soul searching in past years that has lead me to realize that my neighbors are in Africa, but they are also right here. I feel like sometimes I'm so busy with what I do in Africa that I forget to open my eyes and see what's right in front of my face. And sometimes, to see what is right in front of you, you have to be intentional.

So, today, the kids and I decided to go downtown to Acacia Park, where many homeless people hang out, and take them lunch. I was going to just make peanut butter sandwiches and take down bottled water, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I was supposed to do something more. So, I packed up the kids, hauled them to Subway and bought $50 worth of subs. I know I'd prefer a Subway sandwich to PB&J any day, and I just felt like I was to sacrifice for the people we met. On the drive downtown, the kids and I talked for 15 minutes about what we were doing and why. Really, the only exposure they have had to homelessness in the U.S. was about a month and a half ago when we were eating downtown on the outside patio and a homeless man named Ron came up to us and struck up a conversation for 15 minutes. We gave him some cash and explained the basics of his situation to the kids afterward. So, when I started explaining what we might see, Ella said "Oh! You mean like that man, Ron we met?". Yep.

So, we pulled up to the park and I took a few minutes to pray with the kids before we got out of the car. Tariku prayed and asked God to help us show love to the people we gave food to. Precious, considering his own personal history with hunger. We finished praying and I was strangely not nervous at all. I was excited to see what the afternoon would bring. So, we got out of the car and started walking down the street. We got to the corner to cross over into the park, and guess who walked around the corner at that very moment? Ron. I almost started laughing out loud at the opportunity. I called his name and at first he didn't answer, so I called it louder, realizing it's probably been a very long time since anyone has called him by name. He looked up and recognized us instantly. I gave him a hug and told him we were so glad we ran into him. I asked him how he was and he started telling us how he had gotten jumped a week ago and was in the hospital for four days with broken ribs and other injuries. The guy who jumped him stole his backpack with all of his belongings so now he is starting over. We hung out for a while with Ron and gave him a sub and a cold water. He just kept talking with us. As our conversation drew to a close, I asked him if it would be okay if we prayed for him. So, my three little ones and I put our hands on him right there on the corner and prayed for God to provide for him, protect him and help him get back on his feet. He had a tear in his eye as we all said Amen together. We all hugged him and told him we'd be praying for him and that we'd look for him again soon.

How cool is that?! Not even 60 seconds out of our car and there was Ron. The kids and I talked immediately about how God answered our prayer to be able to bless someone and how important it was to take time to spend with the people we were bringing food to. Sweet little Tariku said that what we should have done was take him to buy a new backpack. DUH!! How come it can be so obvious to children what needs to be done?!

Anyway, we spotted an elderly man curled up on the ground in the shade napping with his arms tightly around his pack. I gently tucked a sandwich bag under his arm and we left. Tariku said I did a good job not waking him up. :) Then we walked over to a group of guys who were hanging out on some rocks. I just told them that we had some extra subs if they were interested. Their faces lit up and of course they said yes. So, we sat down and talked with Sam, from Southern Arizona and Connan from Colorado Springs. They kept saying how nice it was of us to give them subs. I told them that as a family we were learning together how to care about the people around us, whether we know them or not and they kindly affirmed that we were doing a good job. :) We hung out for a little bit while they ate and just talked.

After that, all 10 subs were gone, so we walked about 100 feet to the fountain and the kids ran into the water to play. Not long after that, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned around to see Connan. He was eating the rest of the sub that I had watched him put in his pants pocket for later. He asked me my name again and I told him. Then he just said that he couldn't get over what a nice thing we had done for him. He said we were like angels. :) I asked him to tell me his story. It was then that he said how rough things were for him. He showed me the scar on his throat from where he had a tracheotomy. He said that he was 31 and had had a job before he was diagnosed with a certain disease (I'm blanking on it right now) and had spent an extended period of time hospitalized. He now is mildly disabled due to his illness. He told me that life had just been very hard and that he was a hard worker but no one would hire him due to his disability. I told him that I was sorry he had encountered that kind of hardship in his life, but that I firmly believed God had plans for his life and that he could count on that. I told him that I believed in the love of God and that He hears us when we pray and that I would commit to praying for him. I gave him a hug and he thanked me again for taking the time to talk with him and feed him.

And there you have it...he thanked me for taking the time to talk with him. It's exactly what I was getting at in my blog post a few days ago. People want our presence. And today, I took the time to give it. Why in the world don't I do that more often?! It was so great to do this with my children and have them be an active part. I am so thankful that God is showing me it only takes willingness and intention to live compassionately toward the people around me. I can't wait to do this again and again with my kids and teach them how to look for opportunities wherever they are to stop, listen and give of themselves.

I'm so glad God puts up with me. I can be so slow to see the obvious. I'm so thankful for my experience with my kids this afternoon. Praying that I can see those around me who could use some time and attention. Praying that I'm willing to give it, no matter how uncomfortable...no matter the cost. Because it's beautiful.

Just Be

2011-08-09T01:15:00.002-06:00

When among the suffering we find that they do not so much need the skills of our hands or the knowledge of our minds as they do the compassion of our hearts. It is as if the suffering person extends an invitation to us saying ‘Before you do anything FOR me, please come alongside me. Enter into communion with me so that you can BE with me in my pain. Walk alongside me as my friend and companion.’ – Trevor Hudson

I love this quote because I think it houses a very important truth for us: Compassion is ultimately about presence. An outflow of compassion can be giving of our finances, resources and skills, but at the end of the day while those things might help display a compassionate heart, compassion is really about relationship. Compassion is about coming alongside someone in the midst of their pain and struggle and just being there. Pain involves discomfort. Entering into someone else’s struggle IS uncomfortable. But, it’s how life is meant to be lived. It’s how we know that love is genuine…we intentionally enter the murkiness of someone’s situation because that’s what love does. It gets dirty. It is willing to suffer with someone.

I don’t know about you, but my instinct is to fix whatever situation is causing pain. And sometimes, we CAN do things that help fix a problem. But I have come to realize that there are just some situations that I can’t fix (yeah, I’m a little slow on the uptake sometimes!). There are many difficult circumstances in which I can’t offer anyone anything but myself. Problems caused by extreme poverty like I’ve witnessed in Africa can send me running to put my head in the sand because they are so overwhelming. But it’s precisely my interactions with people in some of those extremely difficult situations that have helped me to see that Trevor Hudson is right on… People in pain want our presence. They want to know that someone cares. More than they want us to DO something for them, they want us to BE with them.

I saw this played out in Africa so many times. I would visit with people in impossible situations and they wouldn’t ask me for anything. Not a penny, not a drop of water, not a bit of food. Nothing. They would simply thank me for coming and spending time with them. It was so humbling…so astounding to me.

I find myself again about to go back to Africa. A leper colony called Korah in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia has captured my heart and I can’t get back fast enough. Most of the trips I have gone on in the past have rushed me from one community to another, and I’ve tried to take in as much as possible in as little time as possible. These trips have left me with crucial glimpses into the realities others face in the world, but with little time to just “BE” with the people that I met.

So, that is what this upcoming trip is all about. Just being with the people. I have no intention to run from once place to another trying to fit a bunch of stuff in. Aside from providing some clean water filters, doing some fun activities with the kids in the feeding program, and providing some basic medical attention, I don’t really even have big plans to be “doing” things for the people I spend time with. This time around I just want to be present. I want to hear their stories, share meals together, hold their children, laugh with them, cry with them, pray with them. I want them to know they are valuable. I want to KNOW them.

Yemamu and his father

My friend, Yemamu, is Ethiopian and runs a NGO (non-government organization) called Hands for the Needy in Korah. He grew up in Korah with his parents who both have leprosy. His father begs in the city and his mother embroiders trying to make a living. Yemamu has chosen to stay in Korah, despite opportunities he has received to leave it. He wants to help the people in his community. He has just started a feeding program in Korah and so we are going to serve alongside him and get to know the people he is helping in hopes of establishing long term relationships. I hope to come back with some very practical ways that we can help partner with Yemamu in the work that he is doing in Korah. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to spending an extended period of time in one place with one group of people.

So...who, you might ask, am I going to Ethiopia with?? Well, I wish my hubby could go with me this time around, but he'll be getting back from a trip to Swaziland the day before I leave for Ethiopia. So, not this time. But, I am going with some GREAT people!

Meet Lindsey. She's a fellow adoptive mama to two precious little Ethiopian angels (and soon to another girl from Thailand!), a children's author, an attorney, a blogger, an orphan advocate, an Africa lover...and I could go on and on. While all those things are great, I just love her because she knows how to love God, love people. We are lucky enough to have her fireman hubby, Le, come along with us too! Poor guy...the only male among us crazy women! I am so glad he will be joining us! Hope he feels the same way by the time it's all said and done!

Meet Abbey. She just moved to Colorado Springs about a month ago and she is a nurse who wants to use her skills in Ethiopia with me. I truly can't tell you what having her along on this trip will mean! Medical help is invaluable!! I met her right after she moved here and asked if she'd be interested in joining us and she willingly jumped right on board! Love that! I’m not going to go into all the details, but suffice it to say that we both have some unforeseen, crazy, God size financial hurdles to overcome in the next week. However, this past week I have seen God provide in some really cool ways, which is so encouraging!

My church has set up a way for funds to be donated that are tax deductible that will go directly to my Ethiopia trip. It’s really humbling and frankly more than a little embarrassing to be an adult fundraising for a $2,000 trip to Ethiopia but I feel like I just need to humble myself and put the need out there. These people are worth it!! If you feel so inclined, you can click HERE and donate online, being certain to note “Amy Savage Ethiopia Trip” in the notes section. If you prefer to mail a check, please indicate “Amy Savage Ethiopia Trip” in the memo section and it can be sent to:

The Movement Church
PO Box 62891
Colorado Springs, CO
80962-2891

Oh, and just in case you come away with the wrong idea…we can practice the gift of presence anytime, anyplace and with anyone. You don’t have to go to Ethiopia to find someone who needs you to come alongside them (although I highly recommend it!). I’m learning that if we just slow down and take the time to open our eyes, we’ll see that there are lots of people in need of a little presence. They may be in our families, down our streets or through the doors of our workplaces. They are there. And they need compassion in the form of companionship and presence. I hope we choose to see them.

Mamba

2011-07-22T17:09:00.002-06:00

Sometimes there are no words and I know that my feeble attempt at them right now will not do justice to a sweet, seven year old boy named Mamba who died in Swaziland yesterday. But bear with me, because I think there is a message for us to hear in the midst of this.

If you don’t know, my husband Ben works for Children’s HopeChest, which is an incredible organization working to care for and protect vulnerable children around the world. While he works with multiple countries, his main country of focus due to HopeChest’s large presence there, is Swaziland. Swaziland is a beautiful, heartbreaking little country in the southern part of Africa. HIV/AIDS is so prevalent there that it’s estimated if something’s not done soon to curb the virus that the country itself will be extinct in a matter of decades. Can you imagine? Almost an entire generation has already been wiped out due to the virus as well as other factors.

That said...Swaziland’s terrain is stunning.

Its people are beautiful inside and out.

Hope is springing up.

But sometimes hope must be clawed at and fought for. That's what the Thulwane community in Swaziland is doing today - fighting not to lose sight of hope.

This week a spunky little boy named Mamba died. He was a sponsored child through a HopeChest Care Point who came for meals, laughter and love. He was played with, held and adored…most recently by his sponsor who was just in Swaziland a few weeks ago visiting him and working at the Care Point.

A few days ago, his step-father was heard telling Mamba’s mother that he was going to kill her and her children. Yesterday, when Mamba was missing, Hope Chest staff searched for him. They horrifically found him hung from a tree. He was seven years old.

The precious little guy you see at the top of this post was senselessly murdered. As I was listening to Ben on the phone telling me all of this, I was undone. This act was horrific and evil at its core. He was an innocent child.

I cried for Mamba, who must have been so full of fear and confusion in his last moments of life. But now I'm angry. Not at God, but at the enemy who loves to keep us from remembering we are in an all out war on this earth. It's a war between good and evil, hope and despair, justice and injustice and love and hate. I immediately thought of 1 Peter 5:8, which says "Be self controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." And it's true. Jesus said it Himself - "the thief comes to steal, kill and destroy" and he will stop at nothing to do it. He will use disease, poverty, hunger, anger, war, relational brokenness...anything he can get his ugly hands on to bring devastation. This doesn't mean we just give up and live in fear. He doesn't get the last word. Ann Voskamp says that "the enemy is a lion on a leash", and he is. There will be a day where none of this pain and senseless violence will exist. Until then, God has given us hearts to beat as His, feet to run into the thick of battle, arms to throw around those who suffer, and voices that shout aloud for the mighty power and justice of God to come down.

My anger over what happened to Mamba must drive me to my knees. When things like this happen it can make all that we labor and long for feel so futile. But I think of Jesus' words in Matthew 16:19 that say "I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven." Our prayers matter, which is why the Bible tells us to pray without ceasing. We have a responsibility to do battle on our knees and with our lives for these children who are so vulnerable to the enemy. When we pray, territory the enemy thinks he owns is taken back. When we pray, Light arrives on the scene. When we pray, God answers and things change.

HopeChest's staff and the community of Thulwane in Swaziland need our prayers as they grieve and process this loss. I can't imagine the trauma and despair the staff must feel at what they witnessed yesterday. As we pray for the children who are vulnerable in this community, let's also be sure to pray for those who are working on their behalf and serving them...that they would not grow discouraged and weary of doing good.

God, may You stir anew in the hearts of your people a desire to pray and intercede on behalf of the vulnerable and oppressed in the world. Help us to get outside of ourselves that we might be mindful of what our brothers and sisters face and be compelled to help change things, both through prayer and through action. Give us eyes to see and hearts that respond. Awaken us, O God!

Whirlwind

2011-07-15T16:25:00.000-06:00

I love Ethiopia. More specifically, I love Korah...a leper colony full of beautiful people in horrendous situations. It has been over a year since I've been in Ethiopia and I've been patiently and not so patiently waiting for the right time to go back. A few months ago the time was right to set a date and so we did. September 8-18. It's no exaggeration to say I think about this community of people many times a day and dream about them at night. God has carved out a deep, special place in my heart for them and I literally ache to go back! It looks like I may be taking a friend of mine with me who is a nurse! How awesome is that?! These people can lose limbs or die from even a simple cut that they can't afford to treat, so the prospect of being able to take someone with some medical expertise excites me so much and will be such a blessing to the people in this community where open wounds and sickness run rampant.

And then...

I received a few thousand dollar medical bill in the mail a few weeks back and then just yesterday a notice from the IRS saying that the refund we received from them months ago was miscalculated and now we owe them close to $3,000. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. What??? Why, God? Really? Why NOW?? To be honest, I've shed some tears over this today. What are we supposed to do when our plans seem to fall to pieces? But, I really believe that the timing is right for me to go. I have seen God provide when things looked literally impossible. So, I would love it if you would join me in praying for provision for this trip to Ethiopia. I need to book my airfare in a few weeks so we'll just see what God will do. I was reminded of Job's story today as I was starting to complain about my circumstances. I love how God answered Job out of a whirlwind in chapter 38:

“Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone— while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy? Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt'. Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep? Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth? Have you entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail, which I reserve for times of trouble, for days of war and battle? What is the way to the place where the lightning is dispersed or the place where the east winds are scattered over the earth? Who cuts a channel for the torrents of rain, and a path for the thunderstorm, to water a land where no man lives, a desert with no one in it, to satisfy a desolate wasteland and make it sprout with grass? Does the rain have a father? Who fathers the drops of dew? From whose womb comes the ice? Who gives birth to the frost from the heavens when the waters become hard as stone, when the surface of the deep is frozen? Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons or lead out the Bear with its cubs? Do you know the laws of the heavens? Can you set up God’s dominion over the earth? Can you raise your voice to the clouds and cover yourself with a flood of water? Do you send the lightning bolts on their way? Do they report to you, ‘Here we are’? Who endowed the heart with wisdom or gave understanding to the mind? Who has the wisdom to count the clouds? Who can tip over the water jars of the heavens when the dust becomes hard and the clods of earth stick together? Do you hunt the prey for the lioness and satisfy the hunger of the lions when they crouch in their dens or lie in wait in a thicket? Who provides food for the raven when its young cry out to God and wander about for lack of food?"

Wow. Okay, God. I'm not going to question You in the middle of my circumstances. I am going to rely on the One who "provides food for the raven when its young cry out". So, I'm going to trust in the goodness and provision of the God who did all of the above and say with everything in me that He is good and will never disappoint. My circumstances may disappoint, but not Him. Not ever.

I can't tell you how much I appreciate your prayers right now. I am willing to lay down this trip if that is what I am supposed to do, because I just want to be where He wants me. But I also can't shake the strong sense that I am to be in Ethiopia in September, so thanks for joining me in praying for some miraculous provision!! The God who laid the earth's foundation is surely capable! Thanks, guys!

Freedom?

2011-07-01T09:37:00.000-06:00

I couldn't make up my mind about what to write about this July 4th weekend so I started with this...

On this Independence Day I am very mindful of the fact I walk around freely today because people have fought for the freedom I enjoy. The fact of the matter is that while America celebrates her freedom this weekend, there are an estimated 27 million people in the world who are slaves...more than any other time in history. Did you catch that?? MORE THAN ANY OTHER TIME IN HISTORY. In this day and age, how is that even possible??

People throughout history have raised their voices to declare that slavery is an injustice and must be done away with. I wonder what Wilberforce and Lincoln would think today if they knew 27 million people are enslaved. The people who stood up for and defended the freedom I enjoy today didn't know me personally. They didn't take a look at my life and deem me worthy of fighting for. They intrinsically knew that human life was not property to be sold...that each person was valuable and should be given every opportunity to thrive.

So, why is this any different for us today? Why do we have a license to sit back and say "Oh, those poor people who are slaves. That's just horrible. Who could do such a thing? Well, I sure hope something changes soon...that's such a tragedy." Do we not see that WE are the ones who must raise our voices just as the people who fought for us did many years ago? Don't we know that if we all just sit back and say "What a pity" that nothing will change?

After I wrote all that I changed my mind about what I wanted to really say. :) If you read my blog you likely are attuned to the issue of human trafficking, what causes it and what you can do to help stop it. What you may not know (or not like to think about) is what keeps YOU behind bars so to speak. What are the things that keep you enslaved? Are there chains in your life that only let you run so far before tripping you up and making you fall?

Do you carry anger and bitterness around? Maybe a poor self image that has sent you into an eating disorder. Are you ate up by worry? Could be that you are plagued by a secret addiction of some sort. Maybe you are locked up in your own cell because of fear and anxiety. How about insecurity? Or maybe good old fashioned guilt and shame?

I think it's worth being said that there are many of us walking around enslaved by something that we were created to be set free from! My top two beasts have been guilt and insecurity. I struggled for years over things that had happened in my past. I couldn't get over them and felt like I didn't really deserve to be rid of the guilt I carried. I'll never forget what an eighty year old man named Jim Downing said one night. He said that in ancient times as a punishment, an offender would have a dead body chained to his leg. Wherever he would go, he would drag around the dead, stinking carcass and everyone around would flee. Taking in the stench and the sight of a decaying body was enough to make anyone run the other direction. Jim likened the offender to us and the dead body to our guilt and shame (insert whatever beast it is that you tend to haul around). One big difference though...we carry the key in our pocket to unlock the chain and leave the dead body behind. But do we??? Why do we continue to carry around things that Jesus came to set us free from?

Do we think that when we read in scripture that Jesus came to set the captives free, that that's only for the 27 million slaves in the world? It's not just for them. It's for us too. Galatians 5:1 says " It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." In other words, Christ didn't die a gruesome death on a cross so that we could enjoy our freedom for a day and then turn around and walk right back into captivity. That is not how we are designed. We are created to be people who walk about in FREEDOM, unencumbered by chains. Our chains are GONE. They have been broken.

One of the biggest deceits of the enemy is to keep us thinking we are still chained when we are not. Our past and our present do not hold us captive. The labels that have been slapped on us do not define us. What happened to us when we were young and innocent does not make us guilty. Our physical appearance is meaningless because God looks at our hearts. Our fear has been driven out by perfect Love - there is no place for it any longer. Our addictions CAN be broken. Our insecurity is a trap straight from the pit because we are children of God, sons and daughters of the King.  If we take time to really digest this it is life changing for us.  The lies that we believe can be dismantled.

There is no dispute that we all carry around some amount of baggage. Some of ours is heavier than others. But have we come to believe that this baggage will never go away? That it will always rear its ugly head? If we have believed that, as Beth Moore says "we're going to have to let truth scream louder to our souls than the lies that have infected us."

There is no time like the present to break the chains of wrong thinking and to recognize that the life God has designed for you to live is one of FREEDOM and GRACE.

He is good and He will walk you through letting go. Some of these things we may have carried for years and our chains have become more like comfort blankets that we don't know how to live without. Maybe there's a lot of fear involved in what life looks like if we're not always getting tripped up by our chains. But I am confident that the One who came to set you truly free will give you whatever you need to walk right out of your chains and into the life that you are meant to live in Him. He's done it for me and I am so grateful. I am FREE.

Our Confidence (Sun Stand Still Part 2)

2011-06-08T16:48:00.001-06:00

If you missed my last post, I am sharing a bit about what I'm learning from a book by Steven Furtick called "Sun Stand Still". When I think about Joshua's boldness to ask God to make the sun stand still on His people's behalf it more than challenges me. How many times have I prayed prayers where I don't really expect God to answer? There have been times when I've felt like praying about a certain thing was the right thing to do, but I didn't really have any confidence that God would actually do something. Or often, I'll qualify my prayer with "If it's your will, God", when really that's a cop out. All it does is keep me from having to pray with real faith because if it's His will then I don't have to really bother believing what I'm praying for. FAULTY LOGIC!! Bill Johnson says "What is vital for us to learn is the role that humanity has in bringing about the activity of the sovereign God into the affairs of man." Prayers offered in faith change things. I feel like God is prodding me with Joshua's story. He was a man totally surrendered to doing what God wanted. He knew the character of God and what God wanted and so he believed and prayed accordingly for God to move here on the earth. I love what Steven says about this...

The posture of surrender will result in radical steps of faith and a confidence that flows from a heart that's fully devoted to God's plans. The key is getting a clear and correct view of God, believing that God is actually who He says He is. And that He can do what He says He can do. I could write story after story about men and women who asked God for the impossible. I could cite endless examples of people who dared to believe they were created and saved to do more than settle for the lowest common denominator of faith. Hebrews 11:33-34 says that these were people "who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies."

But until we have a right picture of God, this is all just a history lesson. Without an accurate vision of God, we cut ourselves off from the very One who enables us to have audacious faith in the first place. You see, great men and women of faith don't have some special spiritual DNA that God injected into them. What makes them unique actually has very little to do with them. Because when you get right down to it, they are no different from you and me: full of fear, plagued by sin, and riddled with insecurity. What makes world-changing people unique, audacious and powerful isn't their perfection. It's their understanding of God's perfect nature and purposes in the world. This God is someone worth taking risks for. This God is someone worth praying Sun Stand Still prayers to. What these men and women of faith believe and experience firsthand about God drives them to settle for nothing less than extraordinary faith.

Knowing God is great enables you to dream, pray and live beyond your means because you know He is able to respond. But you must also know that He wants to respond. Until you believe God is with you and for you, fear and hesitation will characterize your life. While you may believe God is capable of accomplishing the impossible in and through you, you will not necessarily believe he desires to work through you.

When Peter gets out of the boat and walks on water to Jesus...it's not until his foot hits the water that his faith is demonstrated. It's not until he risks failure, embarrassment, and physical harm that the supernatural power of Jesus starts working on his behalf. Audacious faith is based on who God is, what he's already done, and what he will continue to do. He is faithful. It is HE who will prove that He's got what it takes. The unfailing faithfulness of God - not our capability or performance - is the ground of our journey in audacious faith. God didn't encourage Joshua according to Joshua's faith. He encouraged Joshua according to His own faithfulness and ability...

"No one will be able to stand up against you all the days of your life. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you. " - Joshua 1:5

I think the bottom line is this. If we really KNOW the character of God and believe that He's out to set all things right and make all things new...that He longs to heal the broken-hearted and bind up their wounds, to set the captives free, to bring abundant life, to heal our diseases, to give sight to blind eyes, to bring us out of darkness and deepest gloom and break away our chains, to turn our mourning into dancing...if we really KNOW this is the God we love and serve then it changes everything. It gives us confidence to ask boldly for these things in prayer because we KNOW it is His very nature to do them.

I don't want to sit by anymore uttering half hearted prayers of "God, if you wouldn't mind...". I want to approach God boldly and confidently according to WHO HE IS and what He longs to do on this earth. God is responsible for the outcome of my prayers, not me. But, I am responsible to pray...to ask...to believe that I am asking things of God that He desires to answer!

I think this is especially important as we consider the least of these in our prayers. Is God a God of death? NO. He came to abolish death. Is He a God of disease? NO. We see Jesus healing every person that came to Him in the New Testament. Is He a God of hunger? NO. He fed the people who were hungry. Is God a God of slavery? NO. He came to set the captives free.

Again, the magnitude of these issues in our world today can make the boldest person of prayer shy away from asking that they be demolished. What is God really going to do for the 27 million slaves in the world? How is God going to address the 160 million orphans in the world? What is God really going to do for those who are starving? We know that there will always be darkness until Jesus comes to set things right once and for all, but that does not mean we are to sit idly by twiddling our thumbs waiting for Him to come back. We are to be people of fervent, bold prayer and of equally bold action, who believe that God desires we ask audacious things of Him because He WANTS to answer us. He desires to transform our world through us if we would just ask.

If you're going to have the audacity to ask God for something, you'd better be ready to act. Audacious prayer must be tethered to practical obedience or else it's not faith. It's just wishful thinking and positive mental energy. No wonder so many of our prayers aren't answered. We pray for a miracle but fail to make a move.

God, may we be people who pray and LIVE audaciously.

Sun Stand Still (Part 1)

2011-06-07T10:29:00.000-06:00

"The tragedy of our time is that we've taken what was meant to be ordinary and made it exceptional. We've declared audacity off limits." - Furtick

I picked up a book at the bookstore a few months ago sort of accidentally. I went to get another book, but they didn't have it and somehow I ended up with "Sun Stand Still" by Steven Furtick in my hand at the checkout counter. That might be one of the happiest accidents of my life.

I'm sure many of you are familiar with the story tucked away in Joshua 10. For those of you who aren't or are a little rusty like I was, here's the gist as Steven writes it:

"From every angle this story showcases the kind of audacity we're after. And it all hinges on a preposterous prayer. As the chapter opens, we read that five opposing Amorite armies were planning to attack. Having decided to strike first, Joshua led his entire army toward the Amorites on an all-night march. Sometime during that march, God spoke to Joshua. He told him 'Do not be afraid of them; I have given them into your hand. Not one of them will be able to withstand you.'

At dawn, the Israelites unleashed a surprise attack, and right from the beginning the battle went well. When the enemy lines broke, and the Amorites started to flee into the valley, Joshua's men chased them down. And God got personally involved. 'As they fled before Israel,' the account reads, 'the Lord hurled large hailstones down on them from the sky.' Then, as the sun sank toward the horizon, Joshua faced a decision. The victory wasn't complete, and once it got dark, the rest of the Amorites would slip away. But Joshua was determined to fight on. Perhaps he realized that if he didn't destroy the enemy now, Israel's conquest of Canaan would grind to a halt. Maybe he knew that anything less than total victory would conceal God's presence and glory. Besides, he remembered God's promise in the night.

Most of us would have called it a day. I've done all I can do. I've exhausted every option. I've given it all I've got. But Joshua wasn't most people. He refused to go out like that. That wasn't the way it was supposed to end. This was where his audacious faith began. Joshua sized up the situation, summoned all his available courage, and delivered one of the most gloriously unorthodox prayers in the entire Bible:

" O sun, stand still over Gibeon, O moon, over the Valley of Aijalon." (verse 12)

Joshua had the audacity to ask God to make the sun stop in the sky. To freeze time on behalf of His people. According to scripture, God gave Joshua exactly what he ordered. Just when the Amorites were hanging on for the cover of darkness, darkness never came. Just when they thought the curtains were about to drop on their day from hell, God came out for an encore.

"The sun stopped in the middle of the sky and delayed going down about a full day. There has never been a day like before or since...surely the Lord was fighting for Israel!" (verses 13-14)

The skeptic in me has all kinds of questions: Did God actually stop the earth on its axis? I don't know the answer to how He did it. I choose to believe that the same God who intervened to bring his Son back to life intervened on this day in history to help His people. He chose to answer Joshua's outrageous prayer. Maybe instead of trying to figure out the technical answers, we should be asking a more relevant question: could it be that God intends for us to have the same kind of audacious faith - the kind of faith that dares to believe God for the impossible - as a normal way of life??"

I love that last question. It gets to the heart of the matter for me. Throughout scripture I don't see people of God praying wimpy "Dear God, if you could, please would you...". I see them praying prayers where seas parted, the sick were healed, the dead were raised, teenagers took out giants with pebbles. What I see in scripture is that these so called "radical, audacious" prayers were not the exception, they were the norm. Every time someone prayed something bold, crazy things happened! God answered.

As I look at the way that I pray and live out my faith I must ask myself "What have I reduced God to and more importantly, why??" These things have been stirring in my heart for a few months now and I want to take the time to process them here. But to prevent this from becoming the world's longest blog post I'm going to break it up into a few. :)

As we look at the broken world around us, the magnitude of the problems and issues can seem huge and impenetrable. But here's the deal. God didn't just put us here to survive...He put us here to transform the world around us. And that transformation occurs as we come to trust and believe in the very nature of who God is,which then compels us to walk in deeper faith, praying audacious prayers and EXPECTING God to show up and do what He says He will do, just as He did for Joshua. Joshua was nothing special. He just knew who God was and prayed accordingly.

Are we even praying boldy and audaciously? Do we expect that if we pray and believe for the audacious that God will answer? What keeps us from praying the types of prayers that Joshua and many others like him prayed? Are we afraid He won't come through? Do we fear looking stupid?

More to come...

The Urgency of Now

2011-05-29T23:25:00.003-06:00

“We are not faced with the fact, my friends, that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history, there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, naked, and dejected with a lost opportunity. The tide in the affairs of men does not remain at flood-it ebbs. We may cry out desperately for time to pause in her passage, but time is adamant to every plea and rushes on. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residues of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words, ‘too late.’”

-Martin Luther King, Jr.

Time is a funny thing. I can feel like it's crawling by like it did while we were in the adoption process or during my engagement. Other days it races by and there aren't enough minutes in the day. When I think about my life I can often feel like I have forever ahead of me while other days I feel confronted with the reality that life is oh, so short....that the clock is ticking faster and faster.

I think many of us spend much of our time planning for and looking to the future...a job change, a vacation, a change of lifestyle, retirement etc. We tell ourselves that someday our lives will be different. Someday we'll do that thing that seems so out of reach right now. Someday, we'll be in a better place to spend our time and money in more meaningful ways. You know, once we're out of debt and the kids are out of school and we're out from under work and extracurricular obligations and...and...and.

Too many people's "somedays" never come. There really IS such a thing as being too late. As King says "Over the bleached bones and jumbled residues of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words, ‘too late.’” We can get to the end of our lives and regret all the ways we meant to help. Time slipped by...in the busyness of daily life we just...well, we were too busy. We were too self consumed to really bother with others who didn't fit our schedules, our comfort zones, our molds. Really, we were going to do something...

The trafficked 9 year old child who was raped for the 20th time today screams that NOW is what counts. The family running for their lives from ethnic cleansing in their country knows tomorrow could be too late. The mother who has AIDS and is nursing her little baby with diseased milk rather than allowing it to starve knows the urgency of today. The orphan who will age out of the orphanage in a week with no hope of ever having a family knows that time is short. The HIV+ patients who have free medication but can't afford the basic food that's required to be eaten with their medication know the urgency of today. The teenager in Russia with her head being held to a log with an axe forcing her to service man after man knows the urgency of now.

We can tend to think of getting to the grocery store, making it to practice on time, climbing the corporate ladder or paying our bills on time as urgent. Here is what I honestly believe - we wouldn't know urgent if it slapped us in the face.  It would do us worlds of good to walk a mile in someone else's shoes and have our perception of urgent re-shaped.

I do not want to get to the end of my life (which could be an hour from now for all I know) having ignored the people who have lived every moment in a state of emergency. I do not want to stand before my God and look Him in the eye and tell Him that I really meant to do something... that my heart went out to those people. For whoever it is that I am meant to help during my time on this earth, I do not want to be too late.

There IS an urgency of now. Now is ALL any of us have. We are not guaranteed our next breath. Now is a gift that we have been given that was never meant to be squandered. What are we doing with it?

Here Am I

2011-05-19T11:15:00.001-06:00

I got to spend a few days last week at the Christian Alliance for Orphans Summit in Louisville. Almost 2,000 people in one place with hearts to live out the calling of James 1:27 to care for the orphan in their distress. I had the privilege of listening to story after story of how people's lives had been wrecked, changed and influenced by choosing to take a step of faith.

It's funny how I didn't hear many stories of how people had been caring for orphans all their lives, but rather they had been going through their days pursuing what they thought was a full life and God got ahold of them and radically redirected their paths. That sounds a little familiar to me. :)

I heard stories of people adopting HIV+ children from Ethiopia in the midst of great criticism. Carolyn Twietmeyer shared how she went to Ethiopia because the daughter she was in process of adopting was very ill and literally on the brink of death. This little girl desperately needed a blood transfusion but in Ethiopia they don't give out "good blood" to people with HIV because they don't want to waste it on people who are dying. Turns out this adoptive mom was a match for her little girl. While she was there nursing her little girl back to health, she found out that her soon to be daughter had two other siblings living on their own in Ethiopia. Long story short, all three siblings are now adopted and living together here in the States. Check out what this amazing family is doing to fight the stigma of HIV+ children HERE.

I heard stories of churches in cities across America banding together to take in every single child in their local foster care system. Their goal is that when a child enters the foster care system that the first call that is placed is to a local church with an active group of foster families who are ready to take in children. It's so encouraging to see the Church rising up to do what we have been called to do. Is it scary? Yes. Does it require sacrifice? Absolutely. But, what is life really if not the laying down of our own lives for others?

I heard a pro football player share about how God moved in his heart and he and his wife have now adopted around 8-10 kids...I think they have 4 biological as well. He is using his influence with his teammates to create adoption funds for families who cannot afford to adopt.

There was so much love represented in that room of people. So much sacrifice. So much joy. So much passion. This is the beauty of what happens when God transforms our hearts to beat as His does. The cost doesn't seem steep anymore...sacrifice becomes the very thing we chase after because it draws us close to the heart of God. As we watch these precious little lives being transformed before our eyes, we are reminded that God has done that very thing for us.

Psalm 40:1-3 says: "I waited patiently for the LORD; He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God."

There are around 150 million or so orphans in the world today stuck in the slimy pit of abandonment, abuse, disease, loneliness and worthlessness. Their hearts are broken. Many feel hopeless. And God's answer for them is you. It's me. It's people willing to break out of their comfort, their financial security, their routine, their safety, and engage with the children who are crying out to be seen.

"Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” - Isaiah 6:8

I am so often guilty of not uttering those words - "Send Me!". I sit back because it seems others are doing the work and meeting the needs. But God knows that us saying "Send Me" is just as much about what He wants and needs to do in our own lives as it is about how He wants to use us in the lives of His little ones who are broken and hurting. "Send Me" should be the cry of my heart because it will lead me into deeper knowledge of who God is and fullness of life.

I pray for a release from selfishness, fear and comfort for us. I pray that we will start asking God what He wants us to do for His children who have been discarded like trash, who are suffering because of circumstances out of their control. As we say "Here am I. Send me!" may our confidence rest in the God who heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds.

Grateful

2011-05-08T00:49:00.000-06:00

So thankful today that God allows me to be mama to my three sweeties...

They are precious gifts to me that I do not deserve. It is a privilege to nurture and help shape their little lives.

And I'm so thankful for my own sweet mom who has always modeled what selflessness and love look like...

I also can't think about Mother's Day without thinking of Tariku's birth mom, Bogalech. She loved her son so much. In a culture where women who gave birth out of wedlock were shunned, she acted bravely. She didn't leave her son in the woods or abandon him on the side of the road like many in her situation have done. She nursed Tariku for three months and then took him to his birth father so that he could have a better chance at survival. She knew she could not care and provide for him. I have no idea where she is today. I have never met her and simply know a skeleton of her story. I can only imagine what she must feel as a mother who is separated from her child. Her sacrifice has been our gain and there are days I don't know how to feel about that. I have so much sorrow for the impossible choices she had to make...and so much admiration for the bravery it took to make them.

I just have no idea what she must have felt as she handed Tariku over to his birth father... what she must feel wherever she is today. I just know that she has given us the most precious little boy on the face of the planet. And I can't thank her enough for that.

Bogalech, Happy Mother's Day. You have a beautiful boy with a generous, kind spirit and the brave heart of a warrior. I know he must have gotten some of those traits from you. There are no words to properly thank you for what you have given our family. I know the cost must have been so great to you and I pray that your heart heals as time passes. Your son is happy, healthy and beautiful. I hope somehow you can sense that. I love you and I thank you from the depths of my being.

Happy Mother's Day to ALL the moms in the world...may you be blessed today!

Without Seeing

2011-04-23T10:14:00.000-06:00

I love Easter. It means new life for those of us who believe that Jesus, the Son of God went willingly to the cross to make a way for us to experience life abundantly. No longer stuck. No longer shackled. Free to live in fullness. Yes, I celebrate this in my own life today. Somehow, in all my frailty and failings I move His heart. You and I move the very heart of God. So much so, that He sent his son to this earth - to shatter our darkness and bring us joy and life. Is that unbelievable or what??!!

John 10:10 sums up what Jesus came to this world for beautifully. He says:

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."

Jesus rescued us. And He didn't just die on the cross so that we could go to heaven. He rescued and paid the price for us so that we can live ABUNDANTLY now. Today. This very moment.

Many of us might just be trying to get through the day. Life can be hard, there's no doubt about it. It can feel exhausting and most days we have more questions than answers. The circumstances of life can lead us to doubt God's intentions toward us. But they are clear from scripture - He came to give us abundant life. Abundant means "present in great quantity; more than adequate; oversufficient: well supplied; abounding: richly supplied". He has made a way for us to live our lives richly supplied - despite our circumstances.

Remember Thomas in the Bible? Doubting Thomas. He had been convinced that Jesus was the Messiah - the One that was going to right all the wrongs. Yet, as Jesus hung on a cross and died a bloody, gruesome death, I imagine his hope drained as Jesus' blood flowed out from His body, and as He took His last breath.

It's no wonder that when Thomas' friends told him that Jesus was no longer dead and that He had risen from the grave, that Thomas didn't believe them. Along with the death of Jesus had come the death of his hopes and dreams. He told his friends "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it." A week later Thomas and his friends are hanging out behind locked doors and suddenly Jesus appears out of nowhere.

Thomas doesn't believe it's Jesus, but then Jesus says to him "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Ouch. Don't I want to see? Don't I want to see with my eyes answers to my prayers? Don't I want some sort of proof that God is worth it? That He's real and that He's good? I want to see, but Jesus is saying that those who believe without seeing are blessed.

It makes me think about my friend, Elizabeth back in Uganda. She is around 17 years old and her mother died of AIDS while she was young and so she grew up with an alcoholic father who abused her. Then the Lord's Resistance Army invaded her village and she was forced to flee from her home. She and her sister did their best to survive and get by on their own. She ended up at a school where she lives now, trying to get an education so she has some sort of hope for a future. Everything in her life has been difficult and unstable. But look at her.

Those eyes have seen so much in her young life. Yet she smiles, and believe me, it's not forced. She smiled almost the whole time I was with her. You would think someone with her life experiences would be embittered, angry and doubtful of God's intentions towards her. But, she's not. She believes without seeing. I asked her what she wanted more than anything and she responded "to serve the Lord". She loves God so passionately it just radiates from her. People would look at her life and hear her story and say that she has no reason to believe in God...there are few external circumstances in her life that point towards a God who loves and cares for her.

But she knows it. She believes it deeply. She believes without seeing. She believes without doubting, unlike Thomas. And there's something about her countenance, about her words, about the fervor with which she speaks. She is living in the blessing Jesus promised those who have not yet seen but believed.

“Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

I think that like Thomas, Jesus knows that sometimes we need to see Him. That we need evidence of His presence and movement in our lives. But, man, I want a heart like Elizabeth's. I want to be able to know and trust God's love for me in the middle of circumstances that make no sense. I want the blessing of believing without doubting.

May this Easter be one of choosing to believe even when we don't see. May we trust in the love that compelled the God of the universe to send His son to earth to die so that we might live richly supplied, abundant lives through our faith in Him.

Remember this: He has been better to you and me than we deserve. We're forgiven and redeemed by the power of God. And even if He never does anything else for us, His single act of love on the cross demonstrated His goodness for all time. - Steven Furtick

Our World is Transformed - Tariku's Gotcha Day

2011-04-11T06:19:00.001-06:00

"The moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth, the delight, the ecstasy of it, you will discover that for you the world is transformed."

I honestly don't know how to even write this post. I have so much emotion today that if you were reading this on a piece of paper the letters would be smeared with my tears. Words just don't seem adequate. Any time you bring a child into your family it is a beautiful moment, and that's no less true when you expand your family by adoption. On April 9, 2010 we weren't thinking about paperwork getting approved, court dates or travel arrangements to Ethiopia. We weren't waiting anymore. Our son wasn't waiting anymore. We were living the moment we'd been dreaming of for two years. We were laying tear-filled eyes on Tariku for the first time in person. Bliss!

I remember kneeling down on the classroom floor and him walking into my arms for the first time. I thought my heart would explode. This precious little boy who had been mistreated and severely malnourished was throwing his arms around my neck and kissing me on the lips. And his smile...oh his smile! He was perfection. He longed to be loved, and oh my gosh...how we loved him immediately! All I could think of was that everything was going to be okay. We were going to wrap our arms and hearts around him and he was going to experience love like he had never known. We were going to love him so fiercely that his tender, wounded, little heart was going to heal. Perhaps what I never saw coming was how much he was going to heal me.

I can't tell you how many times people have told us what a good thing we did when we adopted Tariku...how we rescued and saved him. I know they are well meaning, but it always makes me cringe. We didn't do some extraordinarily good thing - we just did what God put it on our hearts to do. And as for the saving and rescuing...we didn't rescue him. God saw a little boy in a desperate, lonely situation and chose to put us together as a family. For those who still would say we rescued him, I would say that he rescued us right back.

I would say that he has brought a fullness of life to us that we never could have envisioned. He rescued us from ourselves. He rescued us from self-centeredness, from fear, from lives we likely would have lived with blinders on. He has shown us what courage and hope look like. He has helped us to see what our life's purpose is. He has shown us again what God does with brokenness and pain - how He rebuilds and restores. How nothing is wasted. He is a living, breathing masterpiece...a testimony to the faithfulness of God. There is no doubt that as much of an impact as we have had on his life, he has by far impacted and blessed us more. There's just no two ways about it. I guess that's how things work in God's economy. How humbling and awesome. God knew we needed this precious little boy, just as much as he needed us.

And today we celebrate him. We celebrate the moment we became a family. We celebrate the unbelievable little guy that he is. But most of all, we celebrate the amazing God that we know and love....the God who took us on a journey halfway around the world to glue all of our broken pieces back together and to unlock in us something deeply profound and beautiful. We are so incredibly grateful.

Hope you enjoy this sweet video about our journey to Tariku...many thanks to our dear friend, Dan Smoker, for the time, love and energy he put into making it for us.

Getting My Feet Dirty

2011-04-05T22:49:00.004-06:00

I don't know if you can relate, but isn't it really easy to just talk or write about things without ever really experiencing them? I think we do that a lot in our culture, and especially as the Church. Talk, talk, talk with maybe a dash of action thrown in here and there. How sad. I'm guilty of it. That's why today was so good for me. I actually got my feet dirty. Literally.

It was "One Day Without Shoes" day today. An opportunity to engage us in actually experiencing a fraction of what millions of people do every day - walking barefoot everywhere. In my travels in Africa I have seen a lot firsthand, but I realized today that I haven't actually walked in their shoes (or lack thereof). I find myself really surprised by how I felt today going barefoot everywhere. I was so aware of the fact that I was uncomfortable. But, the biggest source of my discomfort really came from the realization of just how hard it must be to go through even just one day in life without shoes for so many in other countries. And the ground I walked on today couldn't have held a candle to the treacherous conditions people walk on daily.

I rolled out of bed onto my soft carpet, walked out into my garage on the smooth, cold concrete, got in my car to the welcome of soft carpet again on my feet, walked to the mailbox on the mildy annoying textured concrete sidewalk, then back into my house onto the smooth, hard wood floors.

The worst I experienced all day was my friend's gravel driveway. Ouch. You should have seen me babying myself with each step on the little rocks. You would have thought I had a sprained ankle by the way I was walking on the gravel. But, it was a reality jolt for me. My mind immediately went back to the Rock Quarry in Uganda where I saw people navigating jagged rocks barefoot, many of them with bleeding feet. And I was instantly thankful for the opportunity to in some small way identify with the people I had met that day in Uganda.

And then my son, Tariku. He had never known a pair of shoes on his feet in his four and a half years of life until he got to the orphanage. He'd been barefoot since the day his toes touched the ground in Ethiopia. I asked him about it tonight and he vividly described the first pair of shoes he received at the orphanage - a pair of rubber crocs. Let me tell you...having that pair of shoes was a big deal to him.

Going barefoot today made it more real for me. Such a small, simple thing to not wear shoes for a day. My friend Layla didn't have a reason to leave her house today with her kids but they talked about the kids in the world who can't go to school because they have no shoes and the people whose toes and feet are eaten away by infection because they don't have any foot protection. Then they all walked down their long, gravel driveway barefoot to get the mail. Just that one simple exercise left a big mark on her kids. I love that.

It's just so easy to settle in and stay comfortable with the way our lives are here in America. It was so good for me to have a little bit of a reality jolt today. If you haven't noticed, I tend to talk a lot about poverty and it's impact here on my blog. I can so easily tire of all the talk, as I'm sure can you, not to mention God. It felt right today to actually do something to help make the connection between my words and my heart...to shake myself out of my frequently self-centered rut.

There is something special about identifying with someone else...in acknowledging their reality. Isn't that what we celebrate this month? God sending His son to identify with us? God put skin on so that He could feel what we feel and experience our pain and suffering. He is the ultimate example of what it looks like to walk in someone's shoes, or lack thereof. And I'm pretty sure He modeled that because He knew that identifying with one another is where we come alive and fully into who He made us to be.

All that from just one day without shoes. Go figure. Wonder what would happen if I REALLY took a risk identifying with others...

"The way of Jesus is about our descent. Its about our death. It’s our willingness to join the world in its suffering, it’s our participation in the new humanity, it’s our weakness calling out to others in their weakness.”- Rob Bell

One Day Without Shoes

2011-04-04T16:12:00.000-06:00

Okay...so what's the weather like where you are? Is it gonna be hot, cold, rainy, snowy, muddy where you live tomorrow? Imagine the conversation at the office or school or the grocery when you join me and thousands of others and show up barefoot tomorrow. Wait. Why are we going barefoot tomorrow???????
MILLIONS of people in the world go barefoot every day and in an effort to raise awareness of that fact, April 5th is the day we go ONE DAY WITHOUT SHOES. Just one.

Did you know...

Many children in developing countries grow up barefoot. Whether at play, doing chores or going to school, these children are at risk:

•A leading cause of disease in developing countries is soil-transmitted diseases, which can penetrate the skin through bare feet. Wearing shoes can help prevent these diseases, and the long-term physical and cognitive harm they cause.

•Wearing shoes also prevents feet from getting cuts and sores. Not only are these injuries painful, they also are dangerous when wounds become infected.

•Many times children can't attend school barefoot because shoes are a required part of their uniform. If they don't have shoes, they don't go to school. If they don't receive an education, they don't have the opportunity to realize their potential.

When we were in Uganda, we met people whose feet were literally oozing from sores and infection due to the fact they walked barefoot day in and day out. There are bugs called jiggers that burrow into the skin and cause infection. Many of the kids we saw in uganda were walking around with feet that looked like this:

Walking in the wrong places without shoes can cause serious health problems which can lead to paralysis. Can you imagine having to live your life paralyzed simply because you didn't have shoes to wear?? Here in the U.S. we are likely hard pressed to ever think about the fact that people all over the world suffer because they lack one thing that our closets are bursting with - shoes. All it takes is one pair to do the job.

Tom's Shoes is a great organization that gives one pair of shoes to someone in need when you purchase one pair. That's great math. Get a pair. Give a pair. Check them out for an easy way to help put a dent in this crisis.

Talk to your family and friends about this and consider going without shoes tomorrow. What a great way to help people learn that there are millions going barefoot every day who have no other choice. Sometimes, we don't know how good we have it. So, as you walk on the smooth pavement, on the carpet in your house or on the grass tomorrow barefoot, be thankful. There are millons of folks walking on hot roads with sharp rocks, glass and metal who don't have the luxury of knowing a day WITH shoes is coming. But with your help it can.

Get one. Give one. There's no time like the present. www.toms.com

Together

2011-04-01T00:11:00.001-06:00

My house is full right now. Our good friends from Cincinnati are visiting on their spring break and sleeping in Tariku's room, while Tariku is sleeping on my bedroom floor (I had to remove him from my bed due to his excessive snoring and his inclination to make snow angels in his sleep which leads to a very rude awakening in the middle of the night for this mama...but, I digress...), our friend's daughter is sleeping in my girl's room with my two, their two boys are sleeping on an air matress in the play room, and then two more of our friends from Cincinnati came as well and are sleeping in the guest room. Packed house. And you know what? I LOVE it!!

We all cooked together, ran to the store for and with each other, walked to get the kids at school together, sat and watched them play together, hiked together, watched Africa videos together, prayed together, laughed together, tried to light a grill together, shared meals together, and even sat on the couch and looked at our iPhones together. :) And this whole week I've been thinking about what a blessing "together" is. That "together" is what we are made for. We are made for community, to "do" life with each other. Moments spent together are richer and more meaningful. They are just so GOOD!

I am unbelievabley grateful for my "together".

And this all on the heels of a meeting I sat in on today where we talked about the number of kids who are aging out of the foster care system here in the U.S. with nowhere to go and no hope for their future. 1 in 4 are incarcerated. They are three times as likely to commit suicide. They are more prone to trafficking and prostitution. They are more likely to be homeless. We talked about young mothers who are pregnant and alone with nowhere to go...the hopelessness they must feel...the loneliness.

Where is their community? Will they ever know the meaning of "together"? Who is going to cook and laugh alongside them? How are they to get through life without strong relationships?

I have to admit, I spend the majority of my time thinking about what is going on in Africa, a land full of people I dearly love and feel that God has carved a very special place in my heart for. But I feel like God expanded my heart today. He peeled back another layer and allowed me to see what is right in front of me to do.

There are people all around me who have no community and know no love. What does it cost me to reach out and mentor a kid who's aging out of the system? Not much. What does it look like to befriend a scared, young woman who's going to give birth soon? How much of my time would it really take to help them know the meaning of "together"? Not much.

I am excited about what's on the horizon...you'll be hearing more as things unfold. But the point for now that God is whispering to my heart is that "together" is a gift He's given us that we in turn are to give to each other. We are meant to live in community and in relationship with one another. ALL of us. No one should miss out on the awesomeness of "together".

Transformative Dignity

2011-03-21T20:23:00.002-06:00

Today is World Water Day. Many of you may know that the issue of clean water is important to me because my son, Tariku, who we adopted from Ethiopia, drank from a dirty water source that would likely have taken his life had he not received good medical care here upon his arrival in the U.S. His stomach was full of parasites and he had diarrhea most of his life because of his contaminated water source. You can read more of Tariku's story here if you like. But today you and I have the opportunity to focus our attention, efforts and resources on India. My good friend Jody and The Adventure Project are teaming up with Water Aid to make a difference today in India.

Did you know that 1/3 of all drinking wells built in the last 20 years are broken? Instead of drilling more wells, The Adventure Project is using the charitable gifts they receive for something revolutionary – to train and employ hand pump mechanics. The mechanics earn an income, bringing themselves out of poverty, and they save lives – turning water back on for thousands of people each year. Smart, huh? I think so!

I'd like for you to take a minute to meet this extraordinary woman, Ram Rati.

Becky Straw, co-founder of The Adventure Project shares her experience of getting to know Ram Rati...

I met Ram Rati in her village on a cool morning at the crack of dawn. I was instantly energized by her quick wit and smirk of brazen defiance. While other women stood demurely off to our side, faces covered and trying not to interfere, Ram Rati walked around like she was mayor, rattling off stories and beaming with pride.

This culturally conservative region in Northern India generally frowns upon women speaking in public, going outside without a veil or sending girls to school. So, to see a woman like Ram Rati, a spitfire barely five feet tall, riding her bike gallantly into their village is a shock to most people. And then she opens her toolbox and fixes their well.

Ram Rati applied to be a mechanic because she grew tired of all the broken wells in her village. Each broken well meant a farther walk, a longer line and hours spent searching for clean water. In her district, and throughout Africa, one-third of all wells drilled in the last twenty years are now broken. She decided to do something about it. She applied to become one of the first female handpump mechanics.

Strong, hardworking and not afraid to speak up, Ram Rati’s life has been full of courageous action. Forced into a child marriage at the age of eleven, she boldly escaped at thirteen, convincing her brothers to take her in. She spent the next fifteen years grinding wheat and helping raise their children.

When WaterAid showed up in her village, Ram Rati began to see hope. She was taught how to fix wells and prevent them from breaking. She learned how to ride a bike with a skirt on and her toolbox strapped to the back. She removed her veil and found her voice.

But there were some doubters. “At first I thought, how can she do?” one of the men told me. “But she got trained and learned, and now she can do it very nicely. Even a man can’t do the job as well as she does.”

Ram Rati’s friend Sheila, who is also a mechanic, added. “When I first learned to cycle people were laughing, saying, ‘Today you are learning to cycle, will you be driving a plane tomorrow?’”
“What do people say now?” I asked.

Ram Rati chuckled, “Now they say, handpump mechanic, please come. We are waiting for repairs, please come!”
……….

That afternoon I sat in the dirt alongside a group of women, watching Ram Rati and her colleagues fix another well. I was blown away by how strong they were. How they jumped in and grabbed the heaviest tools. They knew just what to do, and how to fix it. I scanned the crowd and noticed three school-age girls also watching. Mouths open, standing in awe. They were mesmerized. I recalled what Ram Rati told me earlier in the day, when she grabbed my arm and pointed at those same three girls. With conviction she said, “I want these girls to be more than us.”

On that day, in the middle of a small village, I think I observed the birth of a revolution. For the female mechanics, this is their Women’s Rights Movement.

……..

I left India convinced that creating opportunities for women to succeed can alleviate poverty and save lives. Already, Ram Rati and her team have fixed 304 wells, turning clean water back on for over 30,000 people. But it’s more than the weight of water that’s transformative. It’s the dignity.

In looking through my travel photos from India, Haiti and throughout Africa, I realize there are millions of powerful women who are unable to speak. Because they are silently standing behind veils, or are too busy walking for water.

I’ve decided that I must use my voice, to help other women find theirs.

You and I have the privilege and opportunity to act today on behalf of the people in India who are sitting in their villages with broken wells that if fixed, would be giving them clean water today. While Ram Rati and her team have fixed 304 wells already, there are still another 4,000 in the region that need fixed. I am looking for just ten of the people who read this blog post today to go HERE and donate just $20 to this important work. I am a part of a network of bloggers who are hoping to collectively raise $10,000 TODAY, which will be matched by Prem Rawat Foundation. That's $20,000 in just one day. It's audacious. It's big. And it's possible. If we raise $10,000, we will help mechanics fix hundreds of wells for years to come, turning water back on for 300 people each month. Through the generosity of Prem Rawat Foundation, that money is doubled, and well, you can do the math. More jobs created, more people served and more healthy futures for thousands of people in India.

Just $20. Just a small sacrifice. Just a huge difference. Thank you, friends.

UPDATE: In just one day, $11,500 was raised for this project, for a total of $21,500 when you add in the match!! Wow. It's incredible to realize that our voices individually AND collectively can make a tangible difference! Thanks to everyone who joined in!

Out From Under The Umbrella

2011-03-11T00:31:00.002-07:00

I’ve been reading and talking about vulnerability a lot lately. It doesn’t seem at first glance that vulnerability would be related to orphan care or poverty and justice issues. But, after listening to Tom Davis’ talk at Idea Camp this month on this topic, I’m starting to understand the strong connection between vulnerability and our love and care for the marginalized.

Unfortunately, vulnerability is usually associated with weakness, fear and shame. But as Tom says, vulnerability also (and more importantly) encompasses how we feel joy, belonging and connectedness. Vulnerability to me means stepping out from under the umbrella of safety and putting myself and my heart out there, come what may. Sometimes, it hurts like crazy, but it almost always leads to joy.

If you’ve been around my blog (or my life!), you know that I have adopted my son from Ethiopia and while there, was WRECKED by a leper colony called Korah. 75,000 people living in a kind of poverty and pain I hadn’t really known existed. My friend, Melanie described her experience in Korah this week so well...

We followed Yemamu and Sisay into the dump. My first thought was that it looked like a post-apocalyptic world, like a movie set for the next big summer blockbuster. But it was real. We stepped through broken glass and plastic bags, large bones of animals, dirty diapers, bottles, cans, batteries leaking acid, rotting food. Layers and layers. Someone had dug a deep hole looking for metal to scavange and the layers of trash went as far as I could see, down down down, smoke pouring through the fissures in the strata.

And there were people. Hundreds of them. People like Busana, who received treatment at e hospital and now lives in Korah, foraging for metals in the dump that she can sell, her 1 1/2-year-old child on her back and her husband nearby searching in the dump.

As we were walking, the smoke filled our lungs, and the smell of rotting diapers, food, and animals filled my nose and lungs. I dry heaved over and over and prayed for the strength to keep walking, to keep asking questions, to keep shaking hands and hearing stories. We saw homes made of plastic tarp where 25 men squeeze in at night to sleep as the hyenas prowl outside. We saw litters of puppies, dogs with matted fur, pigs, and goats. One man was roasting a pig and it looked like he was using the smoke from the dump itself to cook it. A group of young men found a carryout container of raw chicken wings and said, “Let’s eat!” They huddled around it and everyone dug in hungrily. Yemamu showed us what people eat – coffee creamer packets discarded from Ethiopian Airlines, packets of cooking oil, leftover water in plastic bottles. He explained that many people die by drinking the wrong thing or eating something bad. The food at the dump could come from a restaurant…or it could come from the hospital and be mixed with infected blood. The water could be clean water, or it could be chemicals. They take that chance every time they eat. Their clothes come from the dump, and they could be clothes from a patient who died at the hospital, covered in blood.

Each day is a battle to stay alive, and the resilience of the human spirit is remarkable in this place. The older boys take care of the younger ones who have been orphaned. We saw women collecting plastic bags to turn in for money. Garbage trucks came in and out, pouring more and more refuse onto the smoking heap. Hundreds of people gathered around the new piles in search of food and metals. The smoke was so thick that we couldn’t see very far in front of us.

All I can say is walking through Korah (or anywhere where people is suffer) is choosing to be vulnerable. It is intentionally allowing your heart to be ripped out of your chest. Meeting the suffering face to face in all their beauty will take your breath away (as will the stench of the garbage dump they live on). Seeing a family of 12 living in 10x10 room of filth will jolt you. Watching women with leprosy whose fingers are gone trying to eek out a living by embroidering will fill your eyes with tears. Walking away from that place to go back to your comfy bed will cause you to question everything you know.

Opening my heart up to people who suffer has been for me, the ultimate form of vulnerability. It messes with me. It doesn’t allow me to ever be the same again. It is a choice that I either make or I don’t. I either expose myself to things that hurt and in doing so, become fully alive or I put my walls up and stay safely hidden.

I have to say, this week has been one of those weeks where I just wish I didn’t know. I wish I could go back to ignorance because it has hurt SO badly these past few days. Since I actually know some of these people and their stories, they are ever on my mind. When I open my fridge to get food, I think about the food they scavenge from the dump every day. When I grab my Advil I am reminded of their open sores, their diseases. Their faces are everywhere I look. People like my friend, Yemamu, who work tirelessly to make a difference in their lives are always on my heart.

And you know what? That is just a GIFT. The fact I see them at all and care about them is a gift to me from God. I cried every day this week, real, wracking sobs over people I have only visited once. I cried because I was frustrated and angry at God for allowing me to see them in their pain and then for sending me back to my comfortable home. I cried because I don't know how to reconcile my life here much of the time. Some days it feels like I will explode for wanting to be in Korah, among the people there and yet here I am on the other side of the world. I wept over the reality these beautiful people face every day. Yet, I'm reminded that this vulnerability that threatens to tear me open some days, is the very thing that brings me the deepest joy and a sense of connectedness. Vulnerability breeds compassion. Putting ourselves in a place to SEE and FEEL the pain is vulnerability. Once we SEE, we become compassionate. Compassion literally means "to suffer with". Once we suffer with someone, we love them. And love...well, that is what ultimately transforms us and the world.

Jesus left heaven for the confines of earth, experiencing fully the pain and mess of this world - suffering with us. He gave Himself up for those He loved - the ultimate vulnerability - so that we might have abundant life. And it is as we follow His example of becoming vulnerable that we find our fullest, richest and abundant life. My tears this week have felt painful at times, but they have ultimately helped me connect to the heart of God that pounds furiously for the hurting, the lonely, the outcast. How beautiful and humbling.

I'd encourage you if you have 20 minutes to watch Tom's talk on vulnerability...

IC ORPHAN - Children's HopeChest from The Idea Camp on Vimeo.

Whatever He Wants

2011-03-04T16:12:00.002-07:00

This is my 100th blog post, which isn't anything special. But, I was wondering about what I would write that is a good reflection of where my heart is right now (100 blog posts into this journey of learning to love the least) and then I read the post below from Katie Davis. For those of you who don't know Katie, go here to learn about her life in Uganda with her 13 adoptive children. I was privileged enough to meet her and her beautiful girls in Uganda in 2009. God has used Katie's faith...her stories...her heart, to challenge my personal walk with Him. I hope this honest, raw post speaks to you powerfully, as it did to me. May we take these words to heart...

“I am so old. My whole body hurts. I have suffered much,” her eyes shine with joy as she speaks, “oh, I am suffering. But whatever He wants. Whatever God wants!” And she laughs and she laughs.

We sit in our circle in the dust of a slum and we share our hearts and our prayers. Jja Ja Maria, who looks to be a hundred years old and reaches no higher than my shoulders, is the last to share.

Her life, it has been hard. She is in Jinja because she had to flee from the war in the North that tore apart her life and her family. Her son was shot last week by a soldier on the border of Uganda and Sudan and frail, little Jja Ja had made the 13 hour bus ride in the stifling heat and watched as they had lowered her last living child into the ground. The journey had taken almost a week and when she came back she found her grandchildren sick and even though her whole body ached from travel she still took them to the clinic and continued bending over her work so that she could make enough money to put food on the table. Now she is back and we are happy to embrace her and ask about her journey and ask how we can pray for her.

“What ever He wants," she chuckles.

I look at the joy that is spilling out of her wrinkled face and I repeat the words that she has spoken in my head and that doesn’t make sense. She is hurt and she is suffering and she is laughing about it and sparkling with beauty and radiating Joy.

That doesn’t make sense. Not to me. Not yet.

But she already knows what I am just learning. That even this, it is from Him. Even this, it is Holy ground. This thing that I label suffering, it is really Joy.

“Does disaster come to a city unless the Lord has planned it?” Amos 3:6

I live with these human eyes, and with these human eyes of mine I label. I label one thing as good and one thing as bad. I label moments as blessing or burden. And I forget that all this labeling, it is not my right, not my place, not mine to do. To declare what is a gift in my life and what is a curse is to eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, to sit in the garden full of abundance and beauty and choose the forbidden. The knowledge of good and evil, that was never intended for me. Could I, like Jja Ja Maria just quit my labeling and say, "Whatever God wants. Whatever HE wants!"

Because God IS. “I AM.” He tells Moses and still today He IS. And if every good and perfect gift is from above, and a Good and Beautiful God can create only good and beauty then these moments that I choose to label as loss and suffering, they are really good and beautiful, perfect gifts?

“See now that I, I am He, and there is no god besides Me; it is I who put to death and I who give life. I have wounded and it is I who heal.” Deuteronomy 32:29

Suffering, pain, loss, shame – all these things I have blamed on a broken world, Satan even. But can’t a broken world and even Satan only give what God allows? Suffering, pain loss and shame are only these things because I label them as such. Because I, a sinner, choose to eat from the tree, choose to turn away from nail-scarred hands and ignore the grace and miss the gift. He is beautiful and everything He creates is beautiful and if I choose to label it suffering I am choosing to miss the beauty that is freely offered me.

On Friday I got a call from Jane’s birth mom that she had gotten her leg stuck in the chain of a bicycle. Five hours later I walked into a hospital room where she lay sedated, her heel bleeding and her tendon exposed, but untouched. The nurse saw my appalled, grief twisted face and shook her head. “God is good,” she whispered. “God's grace...She could have lost that foot.”

“God’s grace,” I thought, and I wondered what if she had? What if the tendon had been ripped clean through and she never were to walk again? What of when she was ripped from my life and left with a woman who doesn’t even care to supervise her and so she lays here hurt and bleeding and so far, far away from me?

What if God’s grace is not when He saves us, but that He saved us.

“Surely, just as I have intended, so it has happened and just as I have planned so it will stand.” Isaiah 14:24

Just as He intended. Even this, planned by God.

And if this is what He intended (and it is), then that means that every moment – the moment when my daughter’s tiny fingers were pried from around my neck, the moment in that hospital room, the moments when I hold babies and watch as they breathe their last and their mothers crumple to the floor and the moment when a dear grandmother hears that her son has been shot, and the moments when the laundry piles over my head and the children bicker and hurts from their past make them do the unspeakable and I don’t even know how to parent – every moment is His grace, a gift. Could I look and say, "whatever He wants, this is my gift for today."

God, who is Good and who is Beauty, and who saved us, even me undeserving, He can only give grace.

And I have a choice. I can let those wounded hands pull me close and I can choose to see the grace in this moment or I can again label, choosing to ignore the gift.

I see it deep in Jja Ja’s eyes, she knows. Even this suffering, He did this. He did this, not because He doesn’t know the ache – He does. He did this, a gift to me.

For the good of me. For the good of her. For the good of us, those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. For the good of all this world and the glory that is His.

And I know in that moment, I can choose to label the ripped open heel and the ripped open family or I can choose to count it as a gift, God’s grace. And the beauty is not in the circumstance or the label but the fact that in His graciousness He is here with me anyway, regardless of the circumstance or the way I choose to view it. The grace of being near to Him in trial, as long as I can chose to see it, is certainly the greatest grace of all.

This is what Jja Ja knows and this is what I am learning. God’s grace is not blessing, earthly reassure, our security or even the security of our children. God’s grace is not that all is “well” and right in my eyes. God’s grace is not when He saves us but that He saved us.

Here I am face to face with Jesus in the dirt and all I have to do is choose to see, accept the grace offered freely. His compassion and His mercy, this Grace, it never fails. Each moment each breath, is a gift simply and only because I get to spend it with Him.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

Whatever He wants. And I am thankful.

May He...

2011-03-04T11:02:00.001-07:00

Waiting Room at an AIDS clinic I visited in Uganda

May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships - so that we may live deep within our hearts. May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people - so that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace. May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war - so that we may reach out our hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy. And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in the world - so that we can do what others claim cannot be done, to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor. Amen.
(Franciscan Benediction)

Awakening

2011-02-24T10:55:00.001-07:00

"Who would ever know the greater graces of comfort and perseverance, mercy and forgiveness, patience and courage, if no shadows fell over a life?" - Ann Voskamp

I'm reading a book right now called "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp. Ultimately, it's about how thanksgiving can transform a life. She talks about how awakening to joy and thanksgiving means awakening to pain.  I know...can we just awaken to joy and fullness of life and skip the pain part, please??

But, aren't we only truly able to enter into a place of deep, authentic gratefulness and joy when we have tasted of pain?  Isn't it our experiences in dark places that compel us to throw open wide our arms and lift our face to the sky and soak up the light? Isn't it our journeying through the deserts of life that cause us to fall by the pool of water and lap it up, drinking deeply? If my life was always smooth and easy, would I truly have the ability to appreciate it?

I am so quick to give thanks when life is good, when I am comfortable, when I FEEL blessed. But what of those times when I am feeling my way in the darkness with no light seemingly in sight? What then? Am I just as quick to utter thankfulness in the midst of that circumstance? No, I'm not. In fact, during times of struggle words of thanks are hard pressed to make their way through my pursed lips.

Has God changed? Do my difficulties and struggles mean that God has changed? Is He not ALWAYS good? Do I not ALWAYS have a reason to give thanks? Not just to utter the words aloud, but to have the attitude of my heart be joy and thanksgiving?  Doesn't scripture say that "in EVERYTHING I am to give thanks"?

Ann writes...

"Lord, that I day after day after day greedily take what looks like it's good from Your hand - a child gloating over sweet candy..." I've been a thief, trying to hoard away all the good. "...but that I'd thrash wild to escape when what You give from Your hand feels bad - like gravel in the mouth. Oh Father, forgive...Should I accept good from you, and not trouble?"

I am the greedy too. I am the eager one that reaches out to take all the good I can get when it appears. But what of the dark? Rarely am I ever thankful FOR the dark. But, can I not reach out in that darkness and be thankful in the midst of it?

She continues...

"I awaken to the strange truth that all new life comes out of the dark places, and hasn't it always been? Out of darkness, God spoke forth the teeming life. All new life labors out of the very bowels of darkness. That fullest life itself dawns from nothing but Calvary darkness and tomb - cave black into the radiance of Easter morning. Out of the darkness of the cross, the world transfigures into new life...and emptiness itself can birth the fullness of grace because in the emptiness we have the opportunity to turn to God, the only begetter of grace, and there find all the fullness of joy. Darkness transfigures into light, bad transfigures into good, grief transfigures into grace, empty transfigures into full. God wastes nothing."

He wastes nothing. And so even in the midst of pain and suffering I can give thanks and find joy because that pain and suffering will not be wasted.

I think back to Africa. To the mother walking barefoot on the hot ground, sweating baby strapped to her back, heavy bundle of provisions on her head, alone because death had come knocking at her doorstep for her husband. And she smiles so big, all her beautiful white teeth showing, her eyes glowing. And it must be that her suffering and her pain are the very things that make her grateful for the bundle of love radiating heat on her back, for the weight of the food on her head and for the hot ground beneath her feet.

Oh Jesus. May the dark places on my journey not keep me from thankfulness. May I open up my hand for whatever You have for me to receive - WHATEVER. May my response to You at all times be heartfelt praise.

The Faces of Love

2011-02-14T14:05:00.002-07:00

Love. What a small, powerful word. It has the potential to change the world. To change us. Most of us seem to excel at self love, but selfless love...that's harder to come by. And it's that selfless love poured out that makes even the harshest cynic stop and take notice. I find it noteworthy that the poor and those who suffer know quite a bit about selfless love, because it's what brings meaning and fullness to their lives. Emptying their lives on behalf of those around them ultimately fulfills them.

I want to share with you some of the faces of love I have seen up close and personally over the past year or so. As I took in each one of these faces I was filled with awe and respect, and honestly, a bit of shame as I held my own "selfless love" up to the light. Yes, my circumstances are different simply because of my geographic location, but at the end of the day aren't we all the same? We have the same longings and desires. We have the same blood coursing through our veins. We all have opportunities to choose selflessness...to learn to live completely in the beauty that is self-sacrifice.

These beautiful women, most of them lepers, spend all day making cotton into cloth, doing intricate embroidery, dyeing fabric...all so they can afford the tiniest bit of food for their large families.

And they do it here...in these hot, stifling metal boxes in the middle of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.

They do it for LOVE.

Meet my dear friend, Yemamu and his mother. She works all day embroidering fabric in one of the steamy boxes above, while her husband who is plagued by leprosy, begs in the city. Yemamu works to support his family as best he can. His heart is consumed by helping those in Korah, the leper colony he grew up in.

Yemamu introduced us to this woman who hasn't been outside of her home in at least 15 years. Her hands and feet have been destroyed by leprosy and she lives at the mercy of others who are struggling to survive as well. But Yemamu visits her and tries to help her as best he can. He offers her what he can.

Sometimes it's simply prayers. He does it because he is compelled by LOVE.

Meet one of the teachers at Kechene School in Ethiopia. I wish you could have been there to see his energy, his enthusiasm, his eyes sparkle as he talked and sang with the children. He wrapped his arms around them, he laughed with them, he invested his life in those precious, smiling faces. Love echoed loud off those walls.

These may be some of the most passionate, creative men I've ever met. They all live in Korah, the leper colony, which is also home to 75,000 of the poorest people in Addis, the capital city of Ethiopia. Having grown up in Korah, they know how difficult it is for young men to find something good to occupy their time with. So, they constructed this building and turned it into a gym where young men can come and work out. The unbelievable thing about this room is that everything you see in here they collected from the garbage dump that Korah sits on. They even melted down car batteries to turn them into dumbbells!

They have had their equipment stolen out of the room, yet they keep going back to the dump for more.

All because they LOVE.

This is one of the sweetest women I know. Because of desperate circumstances, her daughter sold her own child (this woman's grandson) to a woman on the street who was looking to earn more money begging in the city. A woman who begs with a baby on her back is likely to receive more money than a woman who begs alone. As soon as this grandmother found out about what happened, she went searching for her grandson. She found him.

She has raised him in the face of tremendous difficulty and illness. Look at that smile on his face. It's there because love came for him. Love sought him out. Love sacrificed for him. Love knows he is worth it.

Sacrificial love is self-sacrifice with the pure motivation to alleviate the suffering of others. This supreme love is suffering love, love that requires involvement in the knotty problems of the world, love that bears with the failings and weaknesses of others, love that is committed to helping others regardless of the cost.

The Rest Is Noise

2011-01-27T23:07:00.001-07:00

It has been one of those weeks. We've had a stomach virus at our house this week. It's always made worse when mom has it. :) My patience is thin and my capacity is lessened. My poor kids. I had my two youngest home from school with me today after a night of all of us being sick. They were hungry and the thought of having to make them food literally sickened me. But, they had to eat so I pulled a can of chicken noodle soup out of my fully stocked cabinet. I opened it, dumped it in the pot and turned the sink on to fill up the can with water. I stirred it and set it on the stove. In a few minutes it was done and I pulled a few other things out of the fridge, filled some glasses up with water and lunch was served.

I grabbed some medicine out of the cabinet, popped a few pills and went and laid on the couch while my kids ate. A while later I picked up my laptop to do some work so I wouldn't get too far behind. All the while, I was inwardly (okay, and outwardly too!) complaining.

But then I started thinking about some of my neighbors in other parts of the world. I started thinking about what their day would look like if they were sick and their kids were home from school hungry. I walked myself through each step I had taken at lunch time today and pictured what it would be like for them...

My neighbor in Africa would wake up sick and weak, with lessened capacity just like me. But likely she would wake up that way every day due to lack of nutrition. Her children wouldn't be home from school for a day because they had a 24 hour virus. Her kids would be home from school because she couldn't afford to send them or because they were seriously ill and too sick to go. When her kids told her they were hungry, she couldn't just wander over to a fully stocked cabinet and get them food. She'd have to look in their eyes and say "We don't have any. Let's go try to find some". If she happened to find some food to cook, she'd have to walk a long distance (perhaps miles) to fill up a container of dirty water to boil to cook. She'd have to collect wood for a fire. She'd take her children with her while she searched for what she needed, likely carrying the little ones on her back the whole way. What took me five minutes to do would very well take her half a day at the very least. And if she was lucky enough to feed her children, they would be hungry again soon after.

While I take my medicine for my poor little tummy ache, she lives with her pain. I open my laptop from the comfort of my couch and do work that provides me with more income in a month than she'll ever see in her lifetime. She doesn't know where her next penny or meal is coming from. And yet...I complain. God must want to sigh and hang his head at me sometimes.

I am SO stinking comfortable in my life. Even after three years of God prying my eyes open to finally see the poor and vulnerable...I still find myself so wrapped up in ME. Yuck.

I look around at all the things that I have and all the ways that I protect myself from even the slightest discomfort and I'm sick all over again. I was listening to Tom Davis speak this weekend at a justice conference and he was talking about how we RUN from vulnerability. We view vulnerability as weakness. We numb ourselves from grief and pain. We make it so that everything in our lives is protected and stable.
We have life insurance, home insurance, car insurance, our kids wear helmets every time they get on anything that moves...it's Protect, Protect, Protect. Shield ourselves from anything and everything that might cause us pain.

And yet, God doesn't ask us to protect ourselves. In fact, He says the opposite. He says to get vulnerable. He says to give up everything we have to follow Him - including our safety and comfort. He says we may not have a place to lay our heads at night if we follow Him. He says we might be asked to sell all our possessions and give them to the poor. He actually PROMISES us that in this life we WILL have trouble - it's not if, but when!

And yet, I go about my days far from dependent on God. When we have SO much stuff in our lives, our need for God can tend to slide away. I heard someone say this week that we don't pray for our daily bread because we have cabinets full of it. We know where our next meals are coming from. There's no need to ask for it. Wow. Isn't it God who gives us the ability to work so we can earn a living and put bread on our table? At the end of the day, isn't everything we have a gift from God? When will I start living fully in the realization that God will always, always give me what I need and that I can let go? I can hold the blessings in my life loosely and recognize that there may come a day when some of them will be gone. And it will be okay. Because at the end of the day, God is always good. And He has only asked two things of me - to love HIM with everything I've got and to love people like I love myself. The rest is noise.

Smelling Salts

2011-01-05T17:29:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm totally stealing this from my awesome friend Jody's blog.

“Jesus hates suffering, injustice, evil, and death so much, he came and experienced it to defeat it and, someday, to wipe the world clean of it. Knowing all this, Christians cannot be passive about hunger, sickness, and injustice. Karl Marx and others have charged that religion is ‘the opiate of the masses.’ That is, it is a sedative that makes people passive toward injustice, because there will be ‘pie in the sky bye and bye.’ That may be true of some religions that teach people that this material world is unimportant or illusory. Christianity, however, teaches that God hates the suffering and oppression of this material world so much, he was willing to get involved in it and to fight against it. Properly understood, Christianity is by no means the opiate of the people. It’s more like the smelling salts.”
- Timothy Keller

Resting, Dwelling & Feasting

2011-01-04T00:00:00.000-07:00

REST. Why does just typing that word make me anxious??!! Ha! Well, I couldn't possibly rest. I have a company to run, three kids to care for, a marriage to nurture, groceries to purchase, laundry to do, a house to clean, a body to get in shape, African orphans to advocate for, a church to be involved in, friends to see, bills to pay...I could go on for hours. The New Year is often a time of resolutions...most of mine have never been kept because of the reasons mentioned above. :) So, as I've been thinking and praying about what this year might look like, I think it might look like REST. How's that for an ambitious goal? Sadly, it IS!!!

We have been through so much change as a family over the past year. It has been non-stop transition. We have had some of our highest highs and lowest lows this past year. Through it all, we have felt God close, but man, we're emotionally and physically tired!! We are also very excited about what 2011 might look like for us and the things God has in store. But I keep coming back to this idea of rest. What does that even look like and how do I do it??

Psalm 91:1 says "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty." I find it interesting that the privilege of resting in God's shadow comes as we DWELL in His shelter.

The dictionary defines the word "dwell" as the following:

1. to live or stay as a permanent resident; reside.

2. to live or continue in a given condition or state: to dwell in happiness.

3. to linger over, emphasize, or ponder in thought, speech, or writing

So when I say that I want to rest this year, what I'm really saying is I want to DWELL. I want to RESIDE in the shelter of the Almighty. I want to STAY there. I want to LINGER in His presence and PONDER who He is. Dwelling with and in Him naturally leads to me resting in His shadow.

I love the imagery of resting in God's shadow. It's as if it's an unbearably hot and humid day and just when I start to feel faint He's there hovering over me...this amazing, strong, refreshing, reassuring presence. I can let down. I can breathe. I can REST. I can be re-energized and at peace.

This rest...it's available at every moment of every day if I seek it. I don't need a New Year's resolution to rest. I can find it this very second. But this year, I want the act of dwelling to become more natural and instinctive. I want to be where God is, to experience His presence more fully so that I can share it with the people around me. I love the idea of lingering in His shadow...just like the evening light lingers as the sun sets.

Our culture doesn't rest and it doesn't linger over much worthwhile anymore...so that will be my struggle. But I trust that as I seek Him out more diligently and learn what it means to truly dwell in the shadow of the Most High, that the beauty I find there will be no match for the things that compete for my time and my thoughts.

The second thing I long for this year is to FEAST. I know how to pick em, huh? Resting and Feasting. Sounds rough! :) When I think of what it means to feast I think of coming to a huge banquet table that is overflowing with the finest variety of foods. And I want to come to God's table to feast. When I looked up the definition of "feast" (yeah, I was on a dictionary kick today) it said this: "to dwell with gratification or delight, as on a picture or view". There's that word again. DWELL. How cool is that?

God's invitation to us all is to come and feast with Him.

"Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to Me; hear Me, that your soul may live." - Isaiah 55:1-3

I want to sink my teeth into the things that will feed my soul. I want the days of spending money and time on things that don't satisfy to be over. I want to go deep. That's my craving for this year - to dwell with and be delighted by the lover of my soul as never before. Not a bad way to start a New Year. :)

A year ago today...

2010-12-09T17:14:00.001-07:00

One year ago today my life changed forever. My heart raced. My breath got caught in my throat. My eyes filled with tears. Time finally quit crawling by and actually froze. And I knew that I knew that I knew. Child #909-33 was mine.

We had been on the waiting list for one year. Waiting for a little baby boy from Ethiopia. But then God stepped in and changed our hearts. He shattered them with the eyes of older kids we had looked into in Uganda. He pounded on our heart’s door with their precious hands slipping into ours and squeezing so hard. He broke them as we watched them carry their brothers and sisters on their backs all day long. And so we gave in. We threw up our hands and gave God all the fear we had about adopting an older child and extended our requested age from an infant to a five year old. It was up to Him. The paperwork to change the age range went through on December 7, 2009. We were told that maybe by March we would get a referral.

Then came December 10th. Just three days after the age change was processed we got THE call. The call that every adoptive family on the planet agonizes over and waits for. It came.

I remember hearing Tariku’s heart breaking story. I remember scouring the information in the referral document. We got three attachments in the email…the first one was all the information about him, but I just wanted to see a picture him. I clicked on the second attachment and all that was there were pictures of the burns on his hand. I didn’t need to see the burn pictures – they didn’t matter in that moment. I just wanted to see his face!! Then finally I opened the last attachment. It seemed to take an eternity to load. My body was shaking. I just wanted to see his face. I just wanted to know the moment I saw him that he belonged in our family. I was so nervous…what if I didn’t feel a connection? Can you even feel a connection through a picture?? Then his face filled the screen. His tentative, sweet, precious little face.

I remember drinking him in instantly. I can still feel my heart exploding. I can remember my sobs as I smiled like someone who’s crazy in love. I knew in a matter of two seconds. It was meant to be. God had moved heaven and earth for this moment. It was no mistake. Tariku was ours.

This little boy who was alone now had a family. My heart soared. That empty space inside of me that was missing my little boy somewhere on the other side of the world was instantly full. God had fulfilled his promise to both of us.

And now, this beautiful little boy is thriving and growing and happy.

There's nothing like the moments I spend tucking him in bed at night. He tells me about Ethiopia. About his history. All while his sweet little hand rests gently on my face. He goes on and on about what he remembers...what he felt. The good and the bad. The pain and the happiness. Often, I can't help but let the tears roll down my face as I realize all my little one has been through. Other times, I just lay there in wonder and smile until it hurts. The little one I dreamed of for so long lays beside me. Safe and happy and loved.

I can't imagine my life without him. I am just so thankful. I am so in awe of what adoption has meant to our family and how it has transformed our lives and the way we want to spend them. I can't help but think...what if we never pursued adoption? What if the obstacles scared us off? What if the fact that we only had $1,000 of the $20,000 needed had kept us from starting the process? What if???

We wouldn't have gotten to see God provide every penny of what we needed. We would still be stuck in our safe little lives, numb to the 147 million orphans in the world. We never would have gone to Uganda and seen first hand how orphans like our son struggle to live day in and day out. We never would have felt moved to spend our lives on behalf of vulerable children. We never would have moved across the country and accepted a job with Children's HopeChest advocating for orphans. We never would have had the life altering encounter with God that we have had. And we never would have experienced the joy of having Tariku as our son.

Fear stinks. Plain and simple. It robs us of the depth of life we are meant to have. It steals our joy. The reality of living in safety, risking nothing actually ends up suffocating us. Adoption is scary. Lots of things in life are scary. But none are scarier than missing out on what CAN be if we would just take even one little step or one big, bold, blind leap of faith.

Pick It Up

2010-11-23T15:33:00.002-07:00

"There are moments in life where you walk up to something and you can’t believe your eyes.

Like there is NO way that this dream is sitting right in front of you.

No way.

You look around.

You look for a hidden camera.

Nothing. Nada.

It’s true.

It is really there.

You start convincing yourself that this dream is maybe not for you.

Maybe somebody left it there.

So you wait. Sit. Stare. Dream. What if? What if?

You don’t dare touch it.

Almost as if you believe that if you touch it, it will go away.

Then you see someone walking towards you.

He gets to the dream, looks around, and in 2 seconds picks it up.

Done deal. He gets to live your dream. And your fear of God not wanting His all for you has paralyzed you to pick up what He created for you.

That gift of a dream.

So today…When you walk past that dream…

Don’t leave it sitting there.

PICK IT UP.

It’s yours." - Carolos Whittaker

Photo courtesy of the incredibly talented Esther Havens

I am SO proud of my friend, Jody Landers for not walking past her dream, but for picking it up, as scary as it was at times. The Adventure Project was birthed out of her dream and here it is...the launch date for the reality of the crazy thing God placed in her heart some time ago. And it ROCKS. As in lots of little rocks...lumps of coal actually. She went to Haiti last month and found the value of a few lumps of coal. The power that they have to change people's lives...to help restore dignity...to create jobs. And so, it is with lots of excitement that I present to you the opportunity to give a beautifully packaged lump of coal for Christmas and provide a family in Haiti with an efficient coal stove.

CLICK HERE to join the adventure. For $20 each, how can you afford NOT to???

Going Limp

2010-11-10T12:39:00.000-07:00

I had just written yesterday about pain and then stumbled upon the blogpost below from this woman that I just had to share. Beautiful and true. Enjoy.

Two years ago I read C.S. Lewis’, The Problem of Pain, and thought I was an expert on the subject.

Unfortunately, and as much as I hate to admit it, life cannot be experienced through books. There’s no getting around it. I can read all I want about why there is pain, what to do with it, how to handle other people’s pain, the life of Job, etc., and not come an inch closer to truly knowing how to function when pain comes ripping into my soul like Dorothy’s worst nightmare. Disrupting my well-ordered, well-read thoughts with emotion that cannot be logically explained.

I have been married for almost a year. It has been a painful year. About two months into marriage, when I was happily cruising on a (what felt like would be) permanent high of a new marriage, new job, new everything I could have ever wanted, God very gently reopened a wound that covered up with many, many years of cynicism and pride.

Of course I never would have dreamed of saying that then. All I knew was that I would go to bed at night feeling like someone had ripped a hole in my heart and walked away without any explanation.

With this inexplicable came fear, depression, and hopelessness. Everyone throws around that phrase, “misery loves company,” but no one ever tells you what company misery brings with it. Those were some of the darkest months of my life.

I guess what caused it to “feel” so intense was in contrast to what I had expected. I was barely into a new marriage and getting ready to finally go on staff with the ministry that I had volunteered for all throughout college. This was supposed to be the happiest time of my life.

Then God stepped in. He led my husband to ask me some hard questions. Grace-filled and always with gentleness, but hard.

God pulled back those layers of pride & cynicism and looked at that wound and said, “There, right there. You needed me and thought I had not come. You felt alone, unloved, abandoned. You were mocked by those you held closest to you, and you felt like I didn’t do anything to stop it. So you protected yourself, Christina. You have built up your walls so high and thick that you’ve forgotten you need Me. You would rather be given the glory and approval of man than of Me.”

I called one of my friends who has been a counselor to me for the past few years. I sobbed (maybe coherently) into the phone about what was happening. She prayed for me before saying anything. Then, very quietly, she said something that rocked my entitled self right over on my backside.

“Christina, I keep hearing the phrase, ‘Go Limp.’“

“…. what? Go what?”

“Yes, I feel like you’re supposed to stop fighting this and go limp.”

We talked for a little longer and then I hung up the phone. I rolled over onto my stomach and had it out with God. Where have YOU gone? What are YOU doing? Go limp! What do you mean?! I have given you everything Jesus and YOU leave me like this? Hung out to dry? Go limp?!?!”

A lot of people quote that verse in Psalms, “Wait on the Lord. Be strong and take heart, and wait on the Lord.” What if the Lord asks you to wait in pain?

If you read that and thought, “Well waiting in pain isn’t that hard,” then forgive me for being blunt, but you do not know the pain of which I speak.

There is a pain that doesn’t allow you to run away from it. What if the Lord asks you to sit in that pain? That doesn’t go away with medication, or facebook, or movies, or alcohol, or sex, or work, or a new pair of shoes, or a new hobby, or a new home project, or a new baby, or a new relationship, or, or, or…..

Waiting around the corners of your thoughts, it crashes around you. It suffocates reason. The only person who opened themselves up to that kind of pain was Jesus, and He wasn’t too excited about it.

We humans have become experts at avoiding pain, and I wonder if we’re numbing ourselves to death because of it.

Some of you know exactly the pain I am talking about. If you walked through a season of this pain in the past than you are overwhelmed with the mercy and grace of Yaweh.

We walk with limps, you and I, but we know Who holds us up, now, rather than what.

If you are walking through it now your soul may scoot as far as it can into the corner of your being and cover its face like a frightened child. There is hope, beloved. Oh, is there hope. You will be able to experience a side of your Father that only those wounded beyond coping can.

I heard a speaker give her reason for why she chooses to follow Jesus, and I thought it was beautiful:

“It’s pretty simple, my God has scars.”

There is hope in the middle of suffering. Even when the Son of God breathed His last on the cross, the curtain in the temple split in two, and the Holy and Eternal came colliding into this world to wrestle the broken, beaten, and forgotten from the hands of the enemy.

At the darkest hour hope came rushing into this world violently, and while Easter morning sings of salvation, it also brings a deep, unmoving, Strong Tower of joy to those who are in pain.

I feel like I could write for hours about the gritty in between spots, but much like how we process pain it would be a whirlwind of anger, depression, frustration, hurt, and exhaustion. Rather I’d like to give you snapshots of redemption over the past several months.

My husband laying beside me and holding my face in his hands, telling me that I need not bring anything to our marriage but myself, even if myself is unhappy.

Sitting in a chapel in Colorado during a worship service and weeping for thirty minutes, because God gave me the vision of Him running toward me in desperation, arms wide open.

Reading the scene between Edmund and Aslan in, “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader,” on the front porch of the admin building at the YMCA of the Rockies and realizing what grace really is.

Mourning losses I haven’t allowed myself to. I cried about things that happened ten years ago.

Being able to forgive someone who I’ve been bitter toward for quite some time, and then being able to forgive a church that I’ve been bitter toward for quite some time.

Reading the Gospels and hearing the tone of Jesus’ voice, hearing the desparation that has no trace of the pathetic, but rather stems from a holy love.

There’s much more, but to wrap it up I wanted to include an excerpt from “The Gospel According to Job,” by Mike Mason:.

…. they are something we have come to expect in the speeches of Job: a shockingly earthy account of a knock-down-draw-’em-out struggle against the raw power of an incomprehensible Spirit Being. Time and again Job resorts to images of war, savage aggression, and brute hand-to-hand combat in an effort to describe his relationship with God. Why? Because in his present condition this is what faith fells like for him. this is what it is like to believe in God when absolutely everything is going wrong …

Those who utterly despair of trying to do anything good for God, yet who blindly insist that God be good to them – these are the faithful ones. These are the ones who have the grit to hold on to God through the grimmest and dirtiest of scuffles. Nothing short of that kind of faith could have carried Jesus through the ordeal of the cross, “The old rugged cross,” a famous hymn calls it, and so it was. The cross was a rough, dirty, violent affair, and it was all God’s idea. Why do we picture the Lord as being less rugged than we are? Just because He is holy, does that make Him milk-mannered, skittish, oversensitive, and effete? Too delicate to handle the gross crudities of real life? if we shrink from the idea of wrestling with God, is it because we are afraid of losing? But Jacob did not lose! Perhaps the real probelm is our fear of offending God’s refined sensibilities. Are we so afraid of seeing our nice clean God get dirt under His nails, or blood on His lily-white hands?

There is no life without fight. There is no reality without blood, toil, tears, and sweat. If you are a Christian who does not wrestle, then you may be sure of one thing: someone else is doing the wrestling for you.

Pain Is The Underbelly of Love

2010-11-09T12:44:00.000-07:00

"Pain will come because pain is the underbelly of love, but Love is the greatest because nothing, not even pain, can can ever steal Love’s joy.” -Ann Voskamp

Isn't much of life just messy? Relationships, Work, Emotions, Circumstances...all of them can just get so messy. I love my friend Jen's blog. She calls it a "beautiful mess" and isn't that just what we are all?? One big, beautiful, hot mess. :)

To be honest, I've felt a bit of a mess lately. Scratch that. A LOT of a mess lately. These past two years have been so FULL. Full of spiritual transformation, full of brokenness, full of change. Change is painful. Realizing my faith was incomplete was painful. Allowing God to break down all the walls I'd built up around my life was painful. But God does a funny thing with our pain. He uses it. He loves us through it. He shapes us through it and makes us FULL and more complete. Stronger. Deeper. More courageous and more hopeful. A better reflection of Himself.

I'm in one of those seasons right now. God is stripping me of everything I rely on, everything I know and am comfortable with and leaving me with just Him. JUST HIM?? Hmmm...isn't that the place I should be every day of my life? Reliant upon Him and Him only? Isn't "just Him" all that I need? Isn't it funny when life doesn't go as we expect that we can immediately take on a "But, God...I deserve better than this!  I gave up so much to follow you!" kind of attitude? Wow. How childish. How ridiculous. Don't I recognize that HE is the one that gave up everything for ME??? Don't I know that just because things are bumpy and more difficult than I like that He is still the God who loves me and has my best interest at heart? Don't I know that God is more concerned with growing my character and my love for Him than my comfort and satisfaction?

I know it in my head, but sometimes it takes a while to sink deep into my heart. I have so many questions right now, so much I don't understand. But then I'm reminded of 1 Peter 4:12 that says "Friends, when life gets really difficult, don't jump to the conclusion that God isn't on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner".

And here's the bottom line for me today. My life is about bringing glory to God. That's what I long for, that's what God longs for. And so if God is glorified in the midst of my difficulty then it is worth it. Always. There's a line to a song that says "Bring me anything that brings You glory". Anything. Yikes!! But that's what I long for today - a heart that says "God, I will choose to follow you and trust you when I don't understand. I will choose JOY in the midst of my pain and difficulty because YOU are worth it. Because You deserve all the glory".

And He is SO worth it. God's faithfulness and love is the same yesterday, today and forever. My circumstances may change but He does not. And so I have HOPE and I beg for Him to enter into my mess and give me the ability to see Him for who He is and for what He is doing in the middle of it all. Because He is doing something.  He is loving me in the midst of the messiness. He is whispering His joy to my heart. He is refining me. He is working to make me more like Him. And that's all I ever want to be. More like my Savior.

Psalm 145:13-19

The LORD is trustworthy in ALL he promises and faithful in all he does.

The LORD upholds all who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down.

The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food at the proper time.

You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing.

The LORD is righteous in all his ways and faithful in all he does.

The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.

He fulfills the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them.

Don't think there's power in forgiveness?

2010-10-20T12:42:00.000-06:00

Forgiveness. Doesn't the word itself just make you want to close out of this post right now?! I guess it depends on how you look at forgiveness. If you are the one being forgiven, then it's a beautiful word. But if you are the one who needs to forgive, then the word forgiveness seems big and hard and daunting. I don't usually tackle topics like this on my blog...I like to stick to talking about orphans and poverty and clean water and materialism and what Jesus says about them all. But Jesus also talked a lot about forgiveness too and I imagine that the poor and the orphan struggle with this as well. Proof offered below, thanks to the wonderful photography of Esther Havens.

Let me introduce you to David. David lives in Uganda, an African nation torn apart by war. For those of you who haven't heard of the LRA (The Lord's Resistance Army), let me give you a short education. The LRA was started as a rebel army headed by an evil man named Joseph Kony. The LRA killed, tortured, maimed, raped, and abducted large numbers of civilians. Most victims were children and young adults who were terrorized into virtual slavery as guards, concubines and soldiers. The LRA abducted young girls as sex and labor slaves. In addition to being beaten, raped, and forced to march until exhausted, abducted children were forced to participate in the killing of other children who had attempted to escape.

The smiling young man you see above was abducted by the LRA at the age of 12. He was held captive for 5 years, being forced to commit atrocities against his fellow countrymen. Upon returning to his village, he found his entire family had been killed by the LRA. Let that sink in for a minute. I KNOW that you and I cannot begin to imagine what even one day must have been like for him during his period of slavery to the LRA, much less five years. And then to finally exit such a terrifying experience only to find the LRA had killed his entire family.

I can't say what David felt over the five years he was a child soldier or how he felt when he realized his whole family was dead. I can imagine what I would have felt. Guilt. Intense anger. Profound loss. Rage at the injustice of all of it. Unimaginable sorrow. Complete despair. But look. Look close at David's smile. It's not fake or forced. His smile reeks of a person who's been set free. Not just physically free, but emotionally and spiritually free as well. Two things happened to David. He learned the God loved him and he learned the freedom that comes in forgiveness. Just read the chalkboard.

He forgave Joseph Kony. The man whose forces abducted him and forced him to commit atrocities and killed his family. David forgave him.

God has forgiven him. I can't imagine the power this knowledge holds for David.

He forgives himself. Because of God's forgiveness towards him, David can forgive himself.

Is that not unbelievably powerful?? I can only imagine that David didn't want to forgive Joseph Kony. If I were him I would have harbored nothing but anger toward him. I'm sure that David's process of forgiving him must have been insanely difficult and seemingly impossible. But he did. And he now lives in the beauty of that forgiveness. He did the hard thing and it has set him free.

How about you? Are you living in the beauty of forgiveness today?

How the World Gets Changed

2010-09-24T09:56:00.001-06:00

I'm just giddy today. One week ago yesterday Tariku started his campaign to raise $5,000 for a water well in Africa for his birthday. I knew we'd never get to $5,000 and I knew that I just needed to be content with whatever we had raised in the 90 day period of time. Well yesterday, exactly one week after starting the campaign, the well was fully funded and then some. WHAT????!!!!

I've had lots of questions over the past week..."how did you think to do that?", "how did you get that much money raised?" "how did it happen so quickly?". I've been thinking about these questions and have some thoughts on them...

First of all - "How did I think to do this?". Well, the journey I've been on over the past few years has brought me to the place where I realize that stuff doesn't matter. There is incredible need in the world we live in and I am wealthy compared to the rest of the world, even when I don't feel like I am. I have found greater joy in giving of my time and resources than in any gift I've ever received. Ever. I want my children to grow up with that same experience and I want them to start NOW. What child really needs another action figure or toy?? Don't get me wrong...I'm not saying children shouldn't receive presents. Mine do and will in the future. But, what I am saying is that if we have any hope of changing the world we live in, we need to start NOW modeling for our children that giving is a pleasure AND a responsibility we have to our fellow man.

The other part of why I thought to do this was simply because of Tariku's story. He likely would have been one of the statistics...4,500 children die daily from water related diseases. His brother died from diahrrea due to their water source and Tariku was drinking that same water. That sends chills down my spine. He was spared, but so many are not. This is PREVENTABLE. And we have the resources to do something about it. I had learned about charity:water over a year ago and had been really impressed with their work and their model of educating and involving people. The connection just seemed natural.

As to how we got that much money raised so quickly...that's simple. People WANT to be involved in changing the world. They do. I have found that many folks sit back and do nothing because they are paralyzed by the massiveness of the problem and don't feel there's anything they do can make a dent. Haven't you all heard "Well, it's such a huge problem and my little donation isn't going to really help."? It's really not that people aren't willing to give (although there certainly are those people!), it's just that they don't realize the impact they can have.  I love how charity:water breaks it down...$20 provides 1 person clean drinking water for 20 years. That makes the person who thinks their 20 bucks won't make a dent see that it will indeed make an incredible impact for the one person they are helping.

I also think that when people hear a statistic like there are 147 million orphans in the world they say, "Man, that's really sad." It's overwhelming to them. But when you share a story with them about one of those orphans like my son, Tariku, there's a connection. People can connect to a story about a little boy. They can see that they can help him have a future. Our community of friends and family GAVE us close to $15,000 to adopt Tariku. Ben and I were inspired to adopt as we saw friends whose lives were changed as a result of it. People were inspired to help us bring our son home from Ethiopia.  Others were inspired by us bringing Tariku home and are now in the process of adopting their own children. And now, people have heard Tariku's story and made the connection that he was one of the people in the world drinking water every day that may have killed him. And so, once again, they acted. None of it ever would have happened without telling a story.

So, how do we tell our stories effectively? We live in the information age. We have the advantage of social media like FaceBook, Twitter and Blogging. But for all those folks who aren't technical, there are other ways! Good old fashioned letter writing is what helped bring in the finances for our adoption. Share your heart. Share what you're passionate about and why. CONNECT at a deep level with the people you are sharing with. People want to be moved. It's not about making it a production. It's about being authentic. Help people understand why you are passionate about whatever the "thing" is. Once they understand and are connected at a heart level, they may become fellow advocates! My neighbor, for example, was so moved by Tariku's water project that she sent an email out to everyone in her address book. My nephew shared Tariku's story at school in his classroom and gave out information. Friends shared Tariku's story on FaceBook. All of these seemingly little things mobilize people to get involved.

Stories change our lives. They compel us.  Find a story and tell it. Maybe it's your own story...maybe it's someone else's.  If you're feeling today like you can't really make a difference, don't buy the lie. You can. Find something you care about and if you don't have a story of your own to tell about it, find one. We all need to hear it. That's how the world gets changed.

I Was Not Designed for This...

2010-09-22T13:43:00.000-06:00

I was not designed

to be on my own

to author my own story

to compose my own rules

to live with me in the center.

I was not designed

to look for life outside of You

to treasure the creation

to love people, places and things

more than You.

I was not designed

to rely on my wisdom

to trust my imagination

to rely on my thoughts

to igonore Your revelation.

I was not designed

to follow the path of my craving

to be enslaved to my desires

to be ruled by my passions

more than I am by You.

I was not designed

to put created things in Your place

to look to the creation

to fulfill the longings

that only You can fulfill.

I was not designed

to live for the moment

to ignore what is forever

to covet what belongs to others

forgetting I've been given You.

I was not designed

to question Your goodness

to bring you to the court of my judgment.

to be bitter in my assessment

of the things You do.

I was not designed

to let my heart fill with envy

to be constantly accounting

to be jealous and untrusting

instead of resting in You.

I was not designed

to forget Your right hand that holds me

to ignore your good counsel

to not see that You're with me

I will be in glory with You.

I was not designed

to think I am living

to ignore the evidence that I'm dying

to forget that we perish

when separate from You.

So I acknowledge this morning

it is good to be with You

to make You my sole refuge

to speak daily of your workings

Whom do I have but You?

I praise you for rescue

for always holding me near You

for owning my heart's desirings

My life is You.

- Paul Tripp

A Gang of Little World Changers

2010-09-19T21:44:00.002-06:00

In case you may have missed it, my 5 year old son is raising $5,000 to build a well for the Bakaya people in the Central African Republic for his birthday. We launched his campaign almost four days ago and so far he has raised $3,000 towards the well! All of us are blown away. You can go here to donate if you like. Or here to read Tariku's own story of growing up with contaminated water in Ethiopia.

One of the amazing things to me is that there have been so many children who have contributed to Tariku's water campaign. I've had a couple of emails like the following over the past few days:

"Amy, I talked about this with Luke and Anna. Luke is so sad for Tariku and for losing his little brother. That would be like Luke losing Charlie, who just turned one year old. Luke is getting his bank, and we are talking about how to give more! Thanks for impacting my kids, too!"

"So, it's been a few more days, and wow!!! Almost $3000! Just amazing!!! My kids are still talking about the well and asking several times a day what the total is. I feel so grateful that my kids are experiencing this at such a young age."

"After reading Tariku's story and watching the video, our kids were appalled that clean water is not available to everyone and amazed that this is really going on in our world right now! They were also effected that someone they knew came from this exact situation. ("Ella's brother didn't have clean water AND he had bugs in his tummy???!!!") It really made it tangible for them. Immediately after watching your video, Alli went and literally dumped out her "spending" jar and said, "I want to give it all" and Jack came over with a fist full of his spending money and said, "Bam! Give it all, mom!" It literally made me cry!!! How neat to see God working on their little hearts...not to mention mine!"

Isn't that just awesome?! It is humbling to see children understanding the injustice of a world where not everyone has clean water. And even more so, that they are not just understanding it, but are going to their own piggy banks and emptying them on behalf of others. I would imagine THAT would bring a smile to any parent's face. It sure does mine.

Then today we actually had Tariku's birthday party. The kids who came were asked to forgo buying a new toy for Tariku and simply bring a donation to the well, and if they felt compelled to give something to Tariku, to bring a used toy from their house. So, with 19 kids from five different families (we had three African countries represented in our little gang of kiddos!), we celebrated Tariku. And we celebrated the fact that an entire community in Africa will have clean water thanks to them. It was so fun and cool to watch the kids engage.

We sat them all down in front of the laptop and let them watch this video:

charity: water 2010 September Campaign: Clean Water for the Bayaka from charity: water on Vimeo.

I couldn't believe how they stayed engaged.

They watched as we explained what they were seeing.

And they all smiled when Tariku started pointing to the kids drinking clean water at the end of the video. His excitement was so ridiculously sweet! I just love my little man!

Wow. Kids are awesome. We are so grateful for our awesome friends who have stepped up to not only learn about clean water, but to give to and to pray for those who don't have it. I don't know, folks...I think we might all just be raising little world changers. Maybe it's time we start seeing them as such.

The Impact of Our Stories: WATER

2010-09-16T00:58:00.004-06:00

Clean water. We turn it on in our kitchens to wash the dishes or to get a drink. We use it to shower. We use it to cook. We give it to our pets. We lavish it on our thirsty grass in the summer. FACT: My grass drinks cleaner water than most of the people in the world.

When we went to Ethiopia to adopt our son, Tariku we learned his story more fully. He had lived for four years or so with his birth father and step mother. They collected their water from a small dirty pond that was contaminated with God knows what. His family had no other choice. They needed water and that was the water they had to use. Tariku's little brother became very sick and had severe diarrhea from the water. At the age of one, he died. From dirty water.

When we brought Tariku home from Ethiopia in April he had severe stomach and blood parasites from the water...likely, the same parasites that ultimately took his brother's life. Of course, here in America he had clean water and access to medication that got rid of the parasites relatively fast. The same sort of simple care would have likely saved the life of his brother.

Parents all over the world today do not have a choice about the water they give their children to drink. Their kids must have water and if the only water that is available is contaminated, then that's the water they get.  Tariku watched his brother be born and die in the same year all because there was no clean water available in his village. As a mother, as a sibling, as a human being...this angers me.  Everyone should have the ability to drink clean water. Period. Have you ever taken the time to count how many outlets you have in your house for water? I counted mine today and I have 10 places I can go in my house at any time to get clean water. Ten. Most people in Africa can't even get to an unclean water source within a ten minute walk.

I'll never forget that about a month after we brought Tariku home from Ethiopia we took a weekend trip to Washington DC. We visited the World War II Memorial where there is a gigantic fountain. We walked down to the edge of the fountain and Tariku got on his knees and leaned over and cupped the water in his hand as if he was going to drink it. I told him not to drink it because it was dirty and that wasn't what it was for. In that moment I realized that water was much cleaner than any water he'd ever drank in Ethiopia. He looked up at me confused after I had told him not to drink the water. He said "For animals?" I said no. Then he said "To wash?" I said no. Then he said "What for then?". What for, indeed.   Here we are in America, where we have the luxury of clean water being simply a decoration to look at.

If we can afford to have clean water as a decoration...if we can pay for it to water our lawns and fill our swimming pools, can we not afford to help a community like the one Tariku came from provide clean water for their families to drink?

Tariku is turning five in just a few days. In celebration of his birth, his story and his miraculous presence in our lives, our family is going to raise the money to build a water well for a village similar to the one Tariku grew up in. Isn't it cool that you and I can do that?!

All it takes is $5,000 to impact the lives of 50 families. That's 50 families who will be able to drink water without worrying it might kill them. What an incredible opportunity we have to make a life changing difference for an entire community.

Tariku's story is heartbreaking in many ways, but it is mostly a story of love and hope. The hope that one little boy can help make a difference for 50 families just like his birth family. That is a story I can't wait to watch play out. And thanks to charity:water you can be a part. We have three months to raise this money and it's going to happen. I feel it.

Click HERE to read more about how to get involved or to donate. Let's help Tariku tell his story so that 50 families can live to tell theirs.  Thank you!