sample in a squatty...huh?

Kenli is a very healthy child. The last time she went to the doctor she wasn’t quite two (excluding annual well visits). She has thrown up once in her life…she was still a wee toddler. So, needless to say, when the puke came yesterday we were both caught off guard. She grew sicker and pukier as the day went on. Eventually we ended up at the local clinic. After we entered and took a number, she was weighed and had her temperature taken. Than we sat outside in the back courtyard with all the other waiting patients. Watching the stray kittens and puppy helped pass the time. Our turn came for the doctor, where we were questioned, checked and sent for lab work. Now this is where Ethiopia has the upper hand…..in America you can wait days or weeks for simple tests….not to mention the drive to what ever random place you have to go to get the lab work done. Not here… we just took the gravel path, past the lady doing laundry, and into the last small room. There were two tables, a small refrigerator, three chairs and one nurse pricking fingers. She simply squeezed the blood onto a small slide and handed it to the guy at the next table with the really nice microscope. Than we were off to the “waiting room” again. Back to the doctor… Thank God it is not Malaria or Typhoid. Meanwhile Kenli is as pale as me (now that’s pale) and her fingernails were as white as clouds, as if she had nail polish on them…not to mention she was about to pass out and was burning up with fever. The next logical step….well IV fluids of course. This was taken care of a few moments later in the hallway/exam room/breezeway where others were now being weighed and probed. It was quick, painful as any long needle in the top of the hand, and once you saw past the flies, not that unusual. Than the nurse was off with the IV bottle; Kenli nearly sprinting behind so as not to have the needle yanked back out; back down the gravel path and to the other small room. Here she was put in bed….this particular bed being reminiscent of one you might see in a documentary about Romanian orphanages… we stayed here for over an hour while the fluids dripped and the mosquitoes bit (now we might need that Malaria test). Once the fluids took their course, Kenli had to go (in the worst way)….so we’re off… running down the gravel path to the outhouse… please picture squatty potty… me holding up IV bottle and Kenli’s skirt….her about to pass out….a slippery floor…the unmentionables of course …and the nurse trying to pass me a plastic lid (no lie…like off a water bottle) through the door so I can get a small sample …are you kidding me …there was no time for a sample and my third hand wasn’t cooperating anyway. Eventually we did retrieve a sample and hand it over to the cool guy with the microscope…did I mention the microscope …sorry I was a Biology major in college and I still get giddy around them. A large antibiotic injection later …and we’re on our way home. I should mention the doctor was fabulous and spoke wonderful English…and no doubt all were doing the best they could with what they had. My one regret… no camera …back in my scrapbook days I would have had it with me. What I learned…On the way to the clinic/hospital …grab the camera, OFF and a snack.

Are We Holding God to a Standard?

Today in church, as we all stood and clapped along with the upbeat music, my mind was wondering. Yes, I’ll admit to it. I looked to my right and noticed a man. He was different from the rest. He looked so tired and his body was worn beyond its years. His arms were rail thin and his feet were dirty as I would imagine a disciple’s to have been. The back of his t-shirt was nothing but holes connected by struggling thread and the bottom was very tattered. Yet, he had managed to tuck it into his corduroy pants (it is 80 degrees). His pants were covered in dirt, but the holes were still visible. They were held up by an old scrap of material. His eyes were closed and his hands were raised. He was praising God and I was captivated. Why was he praising God and I wasn’t? As I watched him, I knew there wasn’t much he had to be grateful for….but he WAS grateful. Am I holding God to some kind of standard? I will praise him when the promotion comes, when the sickness goes, when there’s enough money, when my food is hot, when I’m having a great day, when I hear good news……but most of my time is spent in the valleys not on the mountaintop. People I love are dieing, my friends are far away, someone’s marriage is failing, I walk past starving children, I worry about support, my daughter is being mouthy, a friend lost their job, I don’t feel appreciated….the list goes on and on. Am I praising Him in each of these times? Am I praising Him despite my situation or because of it? It’s easy to say “Thank you Jesus” or “My God is worthy” when you have a smile on your face. But it’s the times I’m broken that I need him most….and it’s those times that I am asking Him for things…..when I should be praising Him. He is still capable, even if I’m having a bad day. He is still Holy, The Creator, King of Kings….He inhabits our praises. I saw Him inhabit that man’s today. There is nothing like praising God. You can’t help but be filled with joy….I think this is the point. To let Him turn my sorrow into joy ….to be made strong in my weakness….for His joy is my strength. So if I’m not praising Him in every circumstance, then I will remain weak and full of self-pity. So I’ve decided to praise God when I’m happy and when I’m sad….when I’m laughing and when I’m mad….in my human weakness ….in all the places I fall short…. on the days I want to quit….with every embrace of a precious child…in victory and failure…. Because all else will fail….. But not my God…

Shout with joy to God, all the earth!
Sing the glory of his name;
Make his praise glorious!
Say to God, “How awesome are your deeds!
So great is your power
That your enemies cringe before you.
All the earth bows down to you;
They sing praise to you,
They sing praise to your name.” Psalm 66:1-4

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

No Picky Eaters Here

There are things I have never heard here. For instance: I’m not hungry, I don’t like that, That looks gross, I don’t want to try it, Can I have the red sucker instead of the yellow one, That’s not the way I like it, This doesn’t taste good, I can’t eat another bite, I’m saving room for dessert……Children who have known hunger…They are a unique bunch. I’ve heard adoptive parents comment that their children have food issues, but I never understood it until now. They turn down NOTHING. Being a member of the clean plate club is not an option, it’s a matter of survival. Perfectly good food is not off limits just because it hit the floor. Touch so much as a bean in their bowl and you might draw back a nub. Eating is serious business! It is not about taste or pleasure, but staying alive. And these children get 3 meals and at least one snack a day. They have plenty. I suppose it’s not so easy to leave hunger behind. It must stay with them…even haunt them. It is so very real…the possibility that there may be no more food. It breaks my heart and honestly, it makes me mad. How do we allow this to happen? Jesus is hungry and we are not feeding him! (and for anyone thinking, “well, it’s not really Jesus”…you might want to skim through Matthew) Today, 30,273 more will die. The hunger pains won’t go away…more food will never come.
Dear Lord, forgive us! Open our eyes!


BONUS UPDATE: Our little girl “R” passed court !!!! Jesus Rocks !!!! Her family should be here to get her in a few weeks. I will do a post about her with pictures when that happens.

Homegirl

I love to be inspired by what God is doing through His people. I received a message from an amazing lady a couple of days ago. Check her out at www.operationgiggle.blogspot.com . Her name is Sherri and she is from little ol’ Cleveland, TN. She has a heart for the orphan and has started Operation Giggle to do something about it. Originally she was just working with the orphans in China, but now, thanks to God’s hand, she is working with the little ones right here in Ethiopia too….with the organization I work with. I love the way God worked out all the details and I love Sherri’s obedience. They will be sending Christmas gifts to the children here. To find out how you can be involved visit her blog. I know, like you need one more Christmas project….but hey, if God prompts…….Love you guys !!!!!!!!

Ethiopian?

Kenli sporting her braids…now she definitely looks Ethiopian. Betty, who is the nurse, also does all the girls hair. Kenli finally got up the nerve to ask her to do her hair…and there you have it. Everyone already thinks she is Ethiopian…people speak to her in Amharic all the time.
Yesterday the children were playing taxi. They lined up their little stools and took turns driving each other around…they paid with money they had made with leaves. I heard things like “Café” or “Airport”…eventually I overheard “Wal-Mart” and “Payless”…seems like Kenli is preparing them for America without even knowing it…I had to laugh !!! Below is a picture of some of the boys lined up with their taxis…waiting on passengers. It’s fun to delight in the little things.

Jesus Never Fails...

Today, I decided to quit…(with some of you I have shared how I want to quit every day)…but today I was pushed to the very limits…my values tested one too many times…my boiling point reached…the lies of the enemy lingering by my ear had gone from a whisper to a scream…feeling defeated and unappreciated…I was having a crash landing…I was mad…and I was even madder that I couldn’t vent because no one speaks English…I had bit my tongue too many times…kept quite so as not to give in to the enemy… I am at an ugly place on the inside right now…trying to find my way…trying to wait on God, but feeling more alone than ever…trying not to throw arrows even though some people deserve one right between the eyes… feeling sorry for myself…hmmmmm… what to do…well cry of course… because I was sad…which led to … I have no one to share this with… which led to… I’m so alone… which led to … crying over a lost love… which led back to… feeling sorry for myself… which led to… why am I even here… which led to… I am a horrible mother… I think you get the pathetic picture… I am now a crumbled mess at the feet of Jesus…and than I remembered a story about someone who had a really BAD day… He was betrayed by a friend, arrested without cause, falsely testified against, beaten, disowned by another friend, judged by those in power, accused of many things and than a crowd of people who didn’t even know him shouted, “Crucify Him”…they stripped him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head… they mocked him, spit on him and struck him on the head again and again… they divided up his clothes by casting lots and shouted, “Let him save himself”. He was forced to carry his own cross up to the place where they crucified him… as he slowly died, they sneered at him and hurled insults… not to mention the agony, blood, and pain… or the weight of my sin on his shoulders… not once did he shout “this isn’t fair” or “I didn’t do anything wrong”… he was the King of Kings… he could of saved himself…it’s a good thing I don’t have that power…because I believe I would save myself… and from circumstances far better than the ones my King endured. Dear Lord, forgive me…on the days I complain and feel sorry for myself I am so glad that although I am weak, you are made strong in my weakness; that my lack of faith always causes me to sink, but you can walk on water; that my eyes still doubt the miracles I see, but your miracles open blind eyes; that I see a mountain as reason to change course, but you move mountains; that I fear there may not be enough food, but you care for me more than the sparrows; that I complain my load is heavy even though you held the weight of the world’s sin while hanging on a cross; that I resent the authority placed over me, forgetting you are the one who placed me here; that I can walk past a homeless man without taking notice, not even remembering I just worshiped one on Sunday; that I have no problem climbing up on a pedestal to condemn the sin around me, when I need to be on my knees begging forgiveness for my own; that I tell someone I’ll pray for them and never get around to it, all the while you are at the right hand of the Father interceding on my behalf; that I complain that my food is cold while others are begging for food; that I doubt the promises you make me, even though your words have the power to speak a universe into existence; that I am so bothered I can’t help many that I overlook the joy of helping one, knowing in my heart that you would have suffered and died that day even if for one…even if that one was me. Thank you for not quitting Jesus. Thank you for greeting me each morning with brand new mercy. Thank you for the shadow of your wings. Thank you for always moving our meeting place to where I am. Thank you that all your gifts are good and perfect. Thank you for letting me start over every single time I mess up.

“O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord. You hem me in - behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from you presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” Psalms 139:1-10

Jesus…YOU ARE MY KING
　
　
　

Hush Litttle Baby...

We were on our way home from the store, walking down a street that was new to me. I take in all the people with my eyes, especially those lining the streets; the homeless, the unwanted and the down and out. Suddenly, there she was…I first noticed the pink hat on her tiny head…it was a baby, a very small baby. She was covered to her chin with a blanket…and her face…well, it had obviously been handcrafted by the Master…she was gorgeous. As quickly as I was amazed at her beauty and the fact she was on a mat on the ground next to her homeless mother…we passed by and kept going. They don’t stop for much around here. I looked back over my shoulder and wanted to run back and pick her up…but I didn’t…I couldn’t…she was not mine. I was told the mother would not give her up… she brought in too much money. I want to go back and get her…I am haunted…truly she is etched in my mind and heart. I think of her through each day and night. Why didn’t I stop? Would God let our paths cross again? Was she hungry? I would go back alone…but I don’t know the way or the language. I asked if they would take me back…”sure, maybe tomorrow”…that was 3 days ago. I think they find it funny that I want her…that I want to help. Maybe they are numb to it. After all, it’s my first encounter with a newborn living on the street. I want to pray for God to remove her from my mind, but I don’t…because that’s all I have of her. I want to remember…I don’t ever want to be numb. I am here not to judge “why” they are on the street but to be Jesus to them however I can…even if I don’t know how. I pray for her…that I would have another chance…it is possible…with God. Lord, I feel so helpless… I am broken… a failure.
“He will defend the afflicted among the people and save the children of the needy: he will crush the oppressor.” Psalms 72:4

Jesus and The Evil One

Yesterday, I feel sure I looked into the eyes of both. I visited a local market with the Director early in the morning. As she bartered for the best price on carrots and potatoes, I took in the sights and sounds. I am quite used to being stared at here. Some just glance my way as they pass; some smile and nod; some make comments about the foreigner to their friends; and some glare. But this stare was different…I felt it before I looked up. As I turned my head to the right our eyes met. He was an older man ,about two booths away, dressed in full Muslim garb and he was certainly glaring at me. I casually looked away and than back….he had not moved. So I did the slight smile and nod and looked away and than back….I don’t think he had even blinked. I knew at that moment that it had nothing to do with him being Muslim or me being white…what was alive in him was staring at what was alive in me….I turned to him once more and locked eyes with evil. Knowing I already had the victory with Jesus, I looked at him briefly and asked God to shine light into his darkness…and than we walked away. He continued to stare…frozen in the moment…my heart breaks for his bondage and the darkness that surrounds him. We returned home to find 3 new faces. There they were…an 11 year old girl and her 7 and 8 year old brothers…they were being dropped off by their elderly grandfather. They lost one parent to AIDS and another in a car accident. The grandfather is extremely poor…which is quite evident when you look at the children…but he wants something better for them…and he has heard the children who come here may get new homes in America. These three were dirty…their little feet were worn well beyond their years…and their ragged clothes couldn’t hide the frail bodies underneath. But what truly caught my attention were their big, beautiful, empty eyes….eyes that had seen too much…eyes that mirrored tired, weary souls. Their fear was evident. I sat in the Director’s office as she typed up paperwork…they sat just outside…remaining close to their grandfather. A short while later, he was gone, and they were alone….I looked over at them…at the beautiful faces of children who had just been left with strangers at an orphanage….left by their only living relative…and than it happened…our eyes met. As a wave of sadness came over me…my heart trying to make sense of what just happened…I realized their eyes weren’t empty. I saw a glimpse of Jesus…for He is with the little ones. He “IS” the abandoned, the alone, the dirty, the hungry, the tired, the imprisoned and the orphan. I know God has a marvelous plan for these three. I prayed last night for their forever family….do they know their children are one step closer to being with them…do they even know yet that God will call them to adopt “three”…..do they even know they are being called? They will….and I pray it happens quickly. I look forward to watching Jesus restore life into their eyes…

Imitator ?

The Worst Thing That Happened To Me Today:
A small child spit in his hand and threw it on me

The Best Thing That Happened To Me Today:
A small child spit in his hand and threw it on me

This got me thinking…am I being an imitator of God?….Hardly…How did I react when the spit landed?…I was frustrated, angry and my feelings were hurt…but I didn’t hit the child (believe me it crossed my mind) or spit back…well handled, I thought (can you say “pride issues”). I walked away calmly, said a quick prayer and allowed my anger to subside…than I opened my Bible and looked down to see Ephesians 5...was I being an imitator of God? Loving as Christ loved us?….I don’t think so…He didn’t have bitterness in His heart or judgment on His tongue. I once heard a really cool guy (*) give a great sermon about what happens when we are broken….when the pressures of life cause us to crack, what oozes out?… bitterness? Anger? Rude comments? Evil thoughts?… Being broken or cracked is good (in our weakness He is made strong). The more I am broken the more opportunities I have to let the light of Christ shine… apparently I need a lot more practice… I guess there’s more spit coming my way! I hope today each of us can be more like Christ. When something makes us crack…that peace and joy will come out, and the love of Jesus will be evident to whoever is watching.

*props to Mr. Stum

I can't even think of a title

Well...I figure the only one reading this now is my Mother....sorry for the long absence...my life and the Internet feel a bit like a ketchup commercial...and even then the wait can't truly be captured. To say the least it is a difficult task to blog from here. I hope to configure a quicker way...but until then....who knows. We are here and all is as well as it can be. The home is small but nice and there are 11 children right now. The poverty is heartbreaking and around every corner. The Home has a wall around it and can feel a bit isolating at times....we can not go out alone....and town is a distance away. It is a nice town....but small by American standards. The children are fun and full of energy and always have a lot of love to give....they can sometimes be a little like caged animals....but as I witness the circumstances of their beginnings it is understandable. Luckily they all have families preparing for them....God's perfect plan for their life. I thank all of you who read, send emails, pray and give.....I may not be able to respond right now, but know that I am very grateful. There are so many needs here....please pray that I would be a good steward of the provision God gives. Please pray for our health and continued adjustment...and for the people of Ethiopia. I hoped to include some pictures....but are you kidding....maybe next time. For the sake of anyone reading this I hope to have something inspiring to write about next time. Peace to each of you.

And We're Off

6 bags + 1 carry-on....just missing my carry-on in this picture...In my defense, we are taking quite a bit to the orphanage :)


Leaving on a jet plane....don't know when we'll be back again. It's that time....FINALLY....to go. I am excited, tired and a wee bit stressed. Packing has been my biggest issue....and I'm asking that everyone would be praying for a miracle at the check-in counter tomorrow!!!!!!!! We leave Atlanta at 2:00 and fly out of D.C. at 8:30 in the evening....we arrive in Addis Ababa at 7:00 pm (noon back here in EST) on Sunday. I could panic, cry, scream, over think it.....but I'm really just not thinking about it....so I can avoid a headache...and just rest in the palm of His hand. This is His gig anyway...and He's better at working out the details...big and small. I know there are hard times ahead. But I also know that God is going to teach me wonderful things and open my eyes to things I never knew existed....I know He is going to grow my daughter's heart and show Himself real and mighty to her....I know He is going to love the orphans without ceasing....pound the enemy into the dirt and call us to follow Him as He continues on....I pray for His grace, that I might be able to keep up. Thank you everyone who has prayed, given, written cards, sent gifts, read our blog and fed us.....Thanks for being part of our team .....you go with us. This journey has really just begun....God has wonderful things in store!!!!!





Prayer requests:
His peace
safe travel
health
divine appointments
provision
new friends
miraculous language learning
New Forever Homes for 147 million children of the King

No Seed is Insignificant

I have been asked this question a lot recently, "So what are you gonna be doing in Ethiopia". I've had many answers to this question...some came out smooth and may have even fooled people into thinking I was on top of things....other times I'm sure folks just walked away confused. Truth is....I really don't know what I'll be doing in Ethiopia. I have ideas....playing with and caring for the children....cleaning, laundry and chores at the orphanage, homeschooling my daughter, learning about and helping out with the feeding program in two local villages, teaching some English lessons. Most of the time I get caught up in the "What" and not the "What For"....I want my answers to sound good....or good enough that others might think what I'm doing is a big deal. But really who I'm doing it for is the big deal!!!! Every task is important as long as we're being obedient to God. Satan would want me to feel insignificant....He would lie and say, "Seeds are so small and can be blown away by the wind." But seeds are what God has called us to sow. There is a wonderful post here that really got me thinking. If God has called me to it...than it matters. I have said things like, "Oh, we'll just be helping out" or "We probably won't be doing much at first". But it is significant.....the task may be small (every little thing must be taken care of) but our vision should not be. A quick story from the other post... A man was walking along a road and saw three brick layers hard at work. He asked the first man, "What are you doing?" The man said, "I'm laying bricks." When posed with the same question, the second man replied, "I'm building a wall." The third man answered the same question with a big visioned answer, "I'm building a cathedral." Although I must be diligent in every task my King gives me I've decided to have a bigger vision....the one God has given me. So now my answer , when asked what my purpose is in Ethiopia, is going to be ...."I'm going to help bring ALL 147 million orphans into their forever homes...caring for each one along the way"....... I believe this is what I'm a part of...my God is capable...and He didn't create too many children...so it seems to me that He has a forever home planned for each of them...it seems that we are to blame...we have failed them....God hasn't...So I know I'm part of a HUGE vision....God's....every little thing matters.