Unintentional Consequences - Don't Get Me Wrong

As I've been writing about the unintentional consequences that short term missionaries have caused, I understand that I may sound like a disgruntled naysayer who only points out the faults of others.  You might think I'm an armchair quarterback.  I look at it more as a "Monday Morning Debriefing".  I'm a huge fan of learning from others' mistakes, in order to avoid as many "Ouchies!" as possible.  I'm just trying to figure this stuff out and this is my place to think out loud and process my thoughts..

Please hear me.  I am not saying that short-term mission trips are bad.  I am not saying we should just forget the whole thing and stay home in our nice comfortable churches.  It's really quite the opposite.

I think short-term mission trips can be a good thing and very worthwhile.  If done right, I'm sure short-term missionaries can work alongside long-term missionaries to accomplish big goals and have meaningful interaction with the locals.  In some cases, short term missions are necessary.  For instance, medical mission trips and emergency assistance/disaster relief trips provide acute care for an immediate problem.  I have been the thankful recipient of "just the right help at just the right time" more times than I can count.  I believe people can touch others' lives in a profound way in a moment just by being the one who cares and helps in a crisis.

But I also believe that long term life-change takes long-term commitment and personal involvement.  A complicated problem cannot be fixed in a jiffy.  It requires sacrifice, time, and hard work.  You must invest your life into other peoples' lives if you want to make a difference.  There is no short-cut.  There will be a personal cost.  Your hands might get dirty.  You might be in over your head.


But it will be worth it.

I guess what I'm trying to say is:  For any kind of "help" to be helpful, you must empty yourself of pride and lay aside your agenda.  Submit to those who have a better understanding than you do.  Be teachable.  Prepare your heart to serve - even if that means not doing what you were hoping to do.  Be ready to die to yourself so that Christ may live in you. 

Then take a  deep breath.  Jump in.  Do something.

Blessings to you,
Mamita 

Six Years

Six years is too stinkin' long for kids to wait for a family!

It's too long for aching arms and anxious hearts to wait to hold them!

Please join me in praying for Rod, Dawn and their kids, Ronaldo and Julia.

Tomorrow (May 18th) will be 6 years since they committed to adopting these two.   



I hurt for my friends.

I hurt for these kids.

It's not fair.  It's not right.

 ¹⁸ Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you;

   therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.

For the LORD is a God of justice.

   Blessed are all who wait for him! (Isaiah 30:18, New International Version)

Let's pray for justice, mercy and compassion for these two innocent ones and the family that waits for them.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

Unintentional Consequences - Short Term Missions in the Orphanage

A few weeks ago, I was looking for pictures of a particular orphanage in Guatemala.  I was hoping to see a little boy that Cupcake really loved.  In my search, I found a video of a different orphanage - one whose name is inscribed on my heart.  Two very precious children are cared for at that orphanage.  This was a 10 minute video of a short-term mission trip.  This church spent the afternoon at the orphanage at the end of a week of missions.  I watched the footage with intensity as I tried to catch a glimpse of these kids.  Once I saw one of the kids, I watched the video over and over trying to see every shot of her, straining to see if the other child was in any scene.  This video looked like many other videos of Christians serving orphans in third world countries.  Nothing would have stood out to me, except that one of those kids is not some orphan.  She's my friend's precious daughter, and someday she will come home and try to function in a family.

And suddenly, what came into focus made me angry.  Well, not only angry, more like sober and sad. 

One of the ladies brought out a box full of bubble jars.  It's fun to give a bunch of orphans bubble stuff.  When she brought them out, the kids mobbed her, everyone pushing and reaching and grabbing like a mob of animals.  The woman was clearly overwhelmed and gave a "Phew!" when the last of the bubbles was gone.  It was a sweet and well-meaning gesture.  She was trying to do something nice for the orphans.  Instead, she encouraged them to trample on each other to get what they thought they "needed".

They don't need bubbles.  They need love.  They need someone to show them how to function as civilized human beings.  They need dignity.  They need a family, but that's another post.

So how could it have been handled differently?

Three months ago, I would have done just what that woman did.  In fact, I have done that sort of thing when I've taught kids in VBS.  But now I have experience and (hopefully) some wisdom.  The team would be trained and prepared ahead of time.  I would have given each missionary 5 bottles of bubbles.  I would have gathered the kids into groups of 5, I would announce that we have bubbles.  I'd make it clear that we have enough bubbles for everyone.  Each missionary would go to a group.  I would announce that the smallest children get to go first.  Each child will get a bottle when they look at their missionary and ask politely.  (Some kids would not be able to do all that, but I would encourage them to make eye contact through their fingers if they need to.  The bar has to be set pretty low for some of these kiddos to succeed.)  Each kid would get real loving contact with another human being and bubbles to boot. 

You use what they want to give them what they need.


Eye contact and respect for others - these are the basic building blocks for self-worth and attachment.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

Unintentional Consequences - Short-Term Missions in the Community

Well, it seems that what started as a post has grown to a series of posts.  I think each of these thoughts about short-term missions has a broad application in a number of situations.  I'll see if I can tie it all together... 

I've been doing some thinking about missions and unintended consequences.  I've never been on an international mission trip, but I would like to someday.  Recently, I've come across some things that have made me very cautious about jumping in without forethought and wisdom.  Doing what feels right might not be what is right..  I want to do the best thing for the people I strive to serve.  I do not want to contribute to their difficulties.

It all started when I came across  this great post by Troy and Tara Livesay in Haiti.  The Livesays are long-term missionaries.  They've been in Haiti for a few years and they understand cultural things that I just never knew or thought about.  Troy tells stories of how it plays out in real life.  The comments are also enlightening.

A short-term missionary has no idea what the cultural dynamics are.  The long-term missionary has a better grasp on who could use money/help/items and how to distribute the goods.  They know the culture, community, and individuals in a way that short-term missionaries just can't know.

I don't want to just feel good about what I'm doing, I want to actually help.

This makes me want to be wise in a different way than I have ever considered.  If I were to organize, plan, or go on a short-term mission trip, I would humbly respect and heavily rely on the long-term missionary to know what's best for the local people.

I don't want to unintentionally make things worse for the very people I am trying to help.  I don't want to detract from the effort that is already being made in the community.  I don't want to make things harder on the families that have packed up their lives to go and pour into the lives of others.

The book  When Helping Hurts was brought up repeatedly in the post and comments.  I had heard of it a few times before and was intrigued by the title.  It will be one of the next books that I read.  I'll let you know what I think of it.  I'm pretty sure it's all about unintentional consequences in our giving.

I know when we were in Guatemala, the need was so great and I was overwhelmed with choosing who to help and how to help them.  I'm sure I did some things that were not helpful and other things that had a significant impact.  (At least, I hope so.)

So what do you think?  Do you have any words of wisdom?

Blessings to you,
Mamita

Letter to Cupcake's Birthmother

Dear G.,

Mother's Day is coming.  Does that make you sad?  Or have you numbed yourself to the pain, because it's too much.  I wouldn't blame you.  I can't imagine the raw emotion that you have felt.  I can't imagine your loss.  All the reminders that you are a mother are gone.  There are no little hands tugging on your shirt, no cries of "Mama" in the night.  No one will bring you flowers this weekend.  But that does not change the fact that you are a mother.  You will always be a mother.  Cupcake's mother.

 Do you think about her?  She thinks of you often.  She has questions that I cannot answer.  I can only guess.  From the facts that I have, I can only deduce that life is hard for you.  Whether it was choices you made or things that were forced upon you, makes no difference to me.

I only hope that you will one day meet the Healer of Souls.  I pray that He would seek you out and restore your life.  He will forgive you and give you hope.  May He redeem all the ugly, awful evil that has happened to you and make it a thing of beauty.  His name is Jesus, and He loves you with a pure, everlasting love.

As for your daughter, she is safe.  She is loved.  She is growing like a weed.  She is learning to read.  She can count to 240 and go even higher.  More importantly, she is learning to trust, to ask forgiveness and to forgive.  She is beautiful, inside and out.

Thank you for being her mother and for giving her a chance at life.

God bless you,

Mamita   

Grandma Pat 1936-2011

Middle-of-the-night phone call.
Rushed packing.
Slow miles.
Painful doctor talk.
Sudden loss.
Unexpected grief.
Hurting hearts.
Hot tears.

Gathering of family.
Fond memories.
Outpouring of love.
Reunion with old friends.
Genuine laughter.
Grateful heart.
Prevailing peace.

Maybe someday, I'll tell the story, when my thoughts aren't so jumbled. Mom died of multiple complications from an angiogram. It's a very low-risk procedure. This never happens.

Except it did.

This is my favorite (relatively) recent picture of Mom. She was in Guatemala with our family visiting Cupcake. Something about Guatemala makes you look and feel ten years younger. She felt great and was so happy there. I'm so glad she came with us. I have a lifetime of happy memories just from that week. This is the Mom I want to remember.

I would appreciate prayers for our family (especially my brothers) as we process this loss.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

Miracle Kids

As we were visiting with Tammy's family, I was struck by how awesome our God is. Here in this tiny restaurant sat 2 miracles. Well, more, actually. But that's a story for another day.

As I mentioned in my last post, we were both members of a group of ladies who were caught in very long, difficult adoptions from Guatemala. It was know as the Long-Road-Home.

This Long-Road-Home group consisted of the moms of children with a variety of complicated circumstances. Some of these ladies had no reason whatsoever for a long adoption, but some had lazy lawyers or inept agencies. Some had birthmother complications or special situations which caused investigations and higher scrutiny. Many of the gals had downright corrupt adoption agencies.

Tammy had a corrupt agency. (For you cynics out there, who think you are too smart to get suckered by crooks: You would not believe the incredible lengths some of these "agencies" went to to cover their tracks and appear legitimate.) I don't recall the details, but federal charges were pressed. You can imagine the chances of getting your child home when felons are involved in the case. But God does not operate by chance and there is nothing too hard for Him. After 2 years, countless prayers, skin-of-their-teeth encounters, and extraordinary measures, they brought their beautiful son home! What a testimony to God's faithfulness! We were eyewitnesses to a miracle.

Cupcake's story is complicated. She was relinquished for adoption, which means that her birthmom knowingly placed her for adoption and agreed to follow the procedures. Early in the process, she abandoned Cupcake. In Guatemala, that is a red flag for fraud and the child is usually removed from all ties and placed in state care. Cupcake was allowed to continue with our lawyer. She had to go to court to be declared abandoned. Abandonment is risky. The judges often declare the whole thing a mess, cut ties, and send the kids to state care. (By the way, state care is a life sentence. Children in state care are never, ever adopted.) She sailed through abandonment in 7 months. After she was declared an orphan, she had to go through the regular adoption process, which was extra-scrutinized due to the unusual circumstances. All this to say that Cupcake's adoption was very high risk. Most kids who face this situation do not come home (like 95%). If they do, it takes years and years. Cupcake came home in just over 2 years. It was a miracle.


By all earthly measures, these two should not be here. Logic, probability, and common sense all tell us that. Only God could have pulled this off. I believe that He specifically brought them out for a reason. He has big plans for them. I am excited to see how He works in their lives. It will turn out to be quite an adventure, I'm sure.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

PS. The gratitude and awe I feel as I consider these miracles does not diminish the pain and heartache I feel for all my friends and their children who were left behind or are still stuck waiting to come home. If you would, please pray for those kids. It's been three years since adoptions closed in Guatemala and so many are still waiting.

Meeting Tammy

Subtitled: Or How Not to Make a Good First Impression

A few years ago, I met Tammy in cyberspace. I think I first "knew" her from an adoption.com forum, but I really got to know her once our adoptions went south. There was a group for us whose kids were taking the long-road-home from Guatemala. This group of long-road-homers became my lifeline in the darkest days of Cupcake's adoption.

Within this group of elite women, a few became close friends. These were my sisters-in-Christ, prayer warriors, and encouragers. We connected at a deep level. We were on the same page. We laughed together, prayed together, cried on each others' shoulders, and did the happy dance - all through the magic of the internet. Tammy was one of them.

So, two years ago, when we learned our family reunion would be in Tennessee, I shot Tammy an email to ask if they lived anywhere near Fall Creek Falls. Sure enough, it was a short drive to their town. It looked like we would have the opportunity to meet face to face. :-D

Fast forward to this summer. It just so happened that Sunshine wanted to go with our church Youth Group to a white water rafting trip in Tennessee just days before our reunion. It just so happened that the youth would still be in TN when we got there. And it just so happened that one of the leaders would need to leave on Saturday morning for a family commitment. And, it just so happened that he would be driving right through Tammy's neck of the woods. And, it just so happened that Sunshine would need to be picked up near there right around noontime.

It sounds to me like God was orchestrating things just a little bit.

So, we made plans for everyone to meet up at a local pizza place at noon.

A funny thing happened on the way to meet Tammy.

Or a series of unfortunate events, depending on how you look at it.

First off, MapQuest could not find the park on its system, so we chose the nearest town to drive from when we planned our vacation. It told us it would take 1 hour, 10 minutes. So we planned on leaving the park around 10:30. That would give us 20 minutes of extra time in case we got lost.

Sugar wanted to paddle-boat with the cousins early in the morning, so she had orders to be back by 10:00.

We took the other kids and drove up to the falls around 9:30. As we pulled into the parking lot at the falls, we heard rumbling way off in the distance. Someone commented, "Sounds like we might get some rain today." As we walked up the trail to the scenic overlook, it began to cloud up. We spent approximately 20 seconds looking at the falls.

Drip.

Drip.Drip.

Downpour!!!

We were caught in a deluge, completely soaked to the bone.

By 10:00, we were all back at the Inn. Everyone had to change.

In the scramble, Steve gasped something about the time zones.

What?!?

The park was on Central Time and Chattanooga was on Eastern Time.

That meant we were an hour late!

We scrambled out the door, looking like drowned rats.

When we got to the car, the GPS took us a different way than MapQuest, and it told us it was a 2 hour trip! It turns out, the "nearest" town to the park is about an hour away and the "next nearest" is only about 45 minutes away - Mountain roads.

Of course, we got behind an RV. On mountain roads. Then it rained. Then it poured. Then there was construction. We called both Tammy and Sunshine's youth leader to let them know what had happened. They were all VERY GRACIOUS. They waited for us.

And waited for us.

We finally arrived an hour and a half late, looking like something the cat dragged in.

And it was AWESOME!

It was like we were old friends who had never missed a day. We sat right down and talked about everything under the sun. It was warm and welcoming and comfortable. They were gracious, and kind and generous. Oh, the hospitality they showed! They bought us lunch, and desert, and then they gave us tickets to Rock City. We felt like VIP's. We were blown away by their kindness.

And their kids...all 6, from the full-grown to the toddler were well-behaved, friendly, gentle...and obviously patient, after all that waiting. Here are the little ones.



What a blessing to finally get to meet them! The fellowship of believers is one of the greatest "perks" of Christianity. It's not just having something in common. It is a deep knowing that these people have also knelt at the foot of the cross. They've given their lives to the Savior. In return, He gave them new and abundant life. They walk through this life forgiven and hopeful. We worship and serve the same God. We have both experienced the love of Jesus Christ. I can see it in their eyes. And that is the sweetest kind of friendship I know.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

My "Mount Carmel" Experience

One of my favorite Biblical accounts is the story of Elijah on Mt. Carmel. It is found in 1 Kings 18.

The gist of the story is this. Things are not looking good in Israel. Ahab (or Mean King Ahab, as he's known at our house) and Jezebel are king and queen. The people were confused about spiritual matters. Jezebel had brought in her gods and her religion. The True God seemed lost in the haze.

Elijah was the Lord's only prophet.

Elijah called for a showdown...a showdown at the Mt. Carmel corral.

The "odds" seemed pretty bad. Jezebel and her god, Baal, had 450 prophets. God had 1.

What happened?

The contest is set up in favor of Baal. Elijah talks smack. Baal gets the first opportunity to score.

Then...nothing.....Nothing....NOTHING..... Baal is not a real god.

Now, it's Elijah's turn.

His weapon is a simple prayer and a heart for the people who have lost sight of God.

Answer me, O LORD, answer me, so these people will know that you, O LORD, are God, and that you are turning their hearts back again.

And God answers BIG TIME! And the people see for themselves the awesome power of the TRUE GOD.

If you aren't familiar with it, go read it. Really. It's a good one.

Now what does this have to do with me?

Cupcake has had a wild spiritual journey in her (almost) 7 years of life. When she came home, she was openly hostile to God talk. At the same time, she absolutely adored church. She instantly knew these people were safe and friendly. She love, loved, loved the music.

But stories of Jesus?

"No, thank you."

Eventually, she came to like two Bible stories.

1.) Adam and Eve, and their big mess-up.
2.) Jesus blessing and loving on the little children.

Except for these, Cupcake will not allow me to read the Bible to her.

You see, Cupcake has trouble trusting people. That translates into having trouble trusting God.

She is confused about the true character of God.

For the past two years, we have prayed that God would reveal Himself to her in ways that she could understand. We've prayed that she would find Him trustworthy and good.

So, Tuesday night, we were up late after an evening swim. Cupcake was sitting in the chair with me, winding down a little before we put her to bed. I noticed it was 10:00 and I decided to flip on the TV and watch the local news, which is a rare treat for me. The top news story was of 4-year-old Alisa Meier, who was abducted from her yard about 70 miles north of here. A parent's worst nightmare.

It was too late. I couldn't undo what she had heard.

I watched my beautiful little flower shrivel up. Her eyes got wide as saucers and her breathing changed. Her body tensed and I could see her pulse pounding under her eye. Fear, wild fear, showed on her face.

She retold the story in her own words to make sure she understood. Then, she asked in a quivering voice, "Is that in America?"

This horrific tale hit too close to home. She has lived through similar experiences. We've worked overtime convincing her that she is safe here and no one will ever take her away.

Sigh.

Then it was time for bed. She asked me to pray for Alisa.

Most of the time, I pray in a very non-presumptuous, non-specific way when I pray with Cupcake. I pray for the presence of God and the peace of God in the situation, no matter what happens. I don't usually pray for a certain outcome, because I don't want Cupcake to confuse my desires with God's bigger plan. Sometimes, God answers "no" and we just can't understand why. Bad stuff happens.

The "odds" were stacked against this little girl. It had been 29 hours. The police just reiterated that after 24 hours, the chances of finding her alive and well go way down. The only lead they had in the case was the testimony of her 6-year-old brother who said it was a man in his 20's in a black car. That's it. That's all they had to go on.

With a heavy heart, I got down on my knees and prayed.

Oh God, You know where little Alisa is. Please hold her in Your arms and protect her. Lord, please let the bad guy change his mind. Let him drop her off somewhere safe so she can come home to her mom and dad. In Jesus name. Amen.

Then I lay down next to my scared little girl, ran my fingers through her hair, and prayed some more.

Oh God. I just put You on the spot. Cupcake needs to know that You are real and powerful and that You love lost little girls. She needs to know You answer prayers. Lord, if something happens to that little girl, she may never trust You. Please, God.

I went to bed with stomach flipping for little Alisa, for my own daughter.

Then next morning, Steve woke me with the good news. Alisa had been found safe and sound. Her abductor had gotten spooked and left her at a car wash.

Thank you, Jesus! You are the God who loves little girls and who answers prayer!

The cool thing is: God had answered our prayer before we even prayed it. She was found at 9:45 Tuesday evening! What a lesson for my little girl!!! And her not-so-little Mamita! :-D

He put one more brick in the foundation of her faith. He gave her one more reason to trust the Savior that loves and cares for her.

Now, I don't want you to think that I'm so self-absorbed that I believe it was my prayer that saved the day. The God I serve works on a cosmic scale. He paints on a canvas that is outside the scope of what we can grasp. His plan involves entire communities. He is at work in the lives of every single person who was affected by this kidnapping. He works within the dynamics of families, and yet, He reaches and teaches us on a personal level. He speaks to the heart of the individual. He is doing this at the same time using the same situations. This is merely my perspective from my little earthly view. I know He cares deeply for Cupcake and she needed to see His power and goodness at this stage of her life. He loves little Alisa and her family and I'm sure He is at work in their lives, as well. I know that He also works in our lives through tragedy and disappointment. This time He chose a happy ending.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

The God Who Holds All Things Together

He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. Colossians 1:17

Sometimes, I bask in the glory as I truly experience God's care. I am aware with every fiber of my being that He is gracious and compassionate toward me.

Sometimes I feel lost in the storm and I just have to hang on to the Truth that He cares about my life and all the details, even when I see no evidence in this situation at this moment.

And then sometimes, God just gives me a little glimpse into His tender care for all that concerns me.

I've had a few of these "moments" lately.

I mentioned in my last post about the story of TE's graduation table. It's quite a story. Let me back up and explain a few things.

At the Graduation reception, each student gets a 6 foot table to display whatever they want. Most graduates have a tri-fold project board with pictures mounted. Then they display any trophies, jersey's, projects, accomplishments, etc. on the table It's a neat way to express who they are and what they've done.

Since we are an engineer-ish family, and one of TE's main hobbies has been 3-D paper modeling, we chose to mix things up a little bit. We decided to use some tiny bookshelves (think 2' high and 1' wide) to display some of the intricate models he has created. Steve mounted some plexiglass on the front so that no little hands would reach out and touch his delicate artwork. Between the two bookshelves, on the back side, we placed some foam-board with his name and a few (4) of his senior pictures. All was ready for the graduation display at least 2 weeks in advance. TE picked out his most fantastic models to show off. The crowning piece of this was an incredible model that he spent the past 4 months carefully crafting. (It's some creature from a video game.)


For those of you who have no idea what paper modeling is... Think about how you would make a cube out of paper....Now imagine how you would make a person out of paper. First, TE prints the pattern out on cardstock. (Don't ask me where he gets the pattern.) He carefully uses an X-acto knife to cut out each portion of the model. Every edge that connects to another edge has a tiny little tab. He creases the paper and glues gazillions of tabs one at a time. In the end you have something amazing like this.


This one started off as 13 pages of patterns (347 pieces to be glued together). It's 12 inches tall and actually stands up. Did I mention it is made of paper?

Back to my story...

So, the time is 4:00 on Friday. I'm scurrying around cooking, cleaning, preparing for the party, checking lists, making sure we have everything ready to go for rehearsal at 7:00. I asked the boys to load up the car with the stuff for the display. After they finished, TE approaches me, and says in his most pleading voice, "All the other kids have like 100 pictures on their tables."

(This is one of my proudest moments. I did not reach out and strangle him. :-D) I calmly said, "Well, you have until 6:30 to go through the pictures and upload them to Walgreens.com. We'll pick them up on the way home from rehearsal and you can work on putting it together tonight."

With that, I turned to say, "I've got to go pick up Cupcake so we can grab dinner and run to rehearsal.

Cupcake had spent the afternoon visiting a friend in a nearby apartment complex. As I enter the complex, I hit a speed bump - not at full speed.

I hear a sickening, crushing thud in the back of the van.

The sound was exactly like a bookshelf falling over and crushing paper.

I feel the blood drain from my face.

I pray that the sound came from an old grocery bag. I begin hoping maybe he hadn't packed his models yet, or if he did, surely he put them in a rubbermaid.

I stop at the apartment. I peek in the tinted back window. I see a shelf sideways with paper models under it. I can't bear to investigate further.

The next moments are surreal as I pick up Cupcake looking like I'd seen a ghost.

I call home, through broken words and stilted sentences, I explain what happened and asked Steve to break the news to TE.

I have just crushed his life's work, his magnum opus.

I spend the two-minute drive home, wondering how he's going to take it. I contemplate the tough life-lesson he's going to learn about taking extra care of things that are valuable to us. I grieve over the loss of something that can't be replaced. I consider our options for his display table, which seem pretty limited at the moment.

When I pull into the driveway, Steve and Sugar are waiting for me. TE slowly comes out and I check his face for signs of distress. He looks worried.

We open the hatch...I wish I had taken a picture.

The shelf had indeed fallen over. The paper models were indeed under the shelf.

As we lifted it up, we found a miracle. Out of the 15 or so models that were in the back, 2 had damage, and the damage was minimal. His senior project, the delicate, intricate one) had a few pieces popped off at the glue joint. And poor Zelda got the worst of it.



But the amazing thing is that NOT ONE PIECE WAS CRUSHED!!!

I cannot tell you how relieved and thankful I was. I cried tears of joy! God surely protected them with His mighty hand. I have no other explanation. He is the God who holds all things together, you know.

Epilogue:

TE managed to order some pictures. We picked them up after rehearsal. He worked into the wee hours fixing his big paper model. I had compassion on my son, so I nearly pulled an all-nighter mounting pictures on foamboard. In the end, the display turned out pretty well.




Blessings to you,
Mamita

As You Wait

This is for my friend, Dawn. This song got me through some pretty tough times...and still does.





God is faithful. He hangs on when we are in despair. At the lowest point, He is there. He cares.

For those of you who don't know Dawn, she has been waiting for nearly 5 years for these two:


And these two have been waiting almost 5 years for a mom and dad.



It's time for them to come home.

Please join me in praying for the completion of their adoption. There are still mountains to be moved, papers to be signed, approvals to be had, bureaucracies to navigated, hearts to be softened, and hoops to be jumped through.

God is faithful and these two have not escaped His notice. Pray that He opens the way for these precious kids to come home.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

Decisions, Decisions...

I have a decision to make...so I am going to think out loud here.

I am currently working with the Middle School Youth Group. I have a small group of 8th grade girls that I love. A while ago, our Youth Pastor asked me if I was planning to move up with my girls to the High School Youth Group or was I planning to stay with Middle School and take a new group of 6th grade girls.

Hmmm...

Decisions...I'm not good at them.

Now, I know at this point that most of you are thinking this is a no-brainer. Most people run screaming from anything having to do with Middle School students, but I honestly like working with Middle School kids.

Here's why:

1. Middle School students are teachable. Even though they act like they know everything (especially to their parents), they really are open to learning new things. They are just coming to the point in their lives where they really think about serious stuff on their own and not just mimicking their parents. They are eager to know the truth about the Truth. If God can get a hold of their hearts now, they will become a force to be reckoned with.

2. Middle School students are squirrelly. They laugh at my terrible puns and feeble jokes. They make me laugh and remember what it was like to be a kid. They accept me just the way I am. They remind me not to take myself so seriously. 6th graders are way squirrellier (I just know that's a word) than 8th graders, so the giggles would be multiplied.

3. Middle School is tough. It was tough a hundred years ago when I was in Middle School. It is infinitely tougher now. Middle School is downright brutal. These kids deal with unbelievable pressure on a daily basis. If I can help them see clearly through the chaos, keep a big picture perspective, and make wise decisions, I will be truly serving them.

4. Because my hardest stage growing up was in Middle School, I have tremendous compassion on these students and I'm also a great resource for what not to do. Boy, do I have stories. ;-) I experienced all the normal pitfalls of early adolescence (zits, glasses, greasy hair, awkward, clumsy, etc.) I also experienced some much more serious issues that many of our kids are going through. I can relate to these kids.

5. Sugar will be a 6th grader next year. I would love to be her small group leader.

6. It will be easier for our Youth Pastor to find a volunteer to take the High School position.


Ah, but what about High School: Well, I like High School, too, for many of the same reasons.

1. High School students are also teachable. They ask tough questions, but if given a reasonable answer, they will truly think about the truth presented. I love the intellectual challenge that High School students bring to the table. My 8th grade girls are already asking the tough questions and thinking about deeper things. And I love, love, love them so much. I strongly desire to keep mentoring them. Their spiritual growth is something I want to stay involved with.

2. High School students are more mature. There is more time for serious discussion, which is really where my strength lies.

3. High School is tough. The pressures are more intense. The stakes are higher. The potential consequences harsher. Decisions that will affect the rest of their lives come at them without warning. I love to prepare students for the pitfalls that are out there. I love to share a more excellent way. God's plan is both reasonable and good. And when they've messed up, I am glad to show God's grace and His redemptive power, offering healing and forgiveness..

So, there you have it. It's ALL GOOD. It's a win/win for me. No matter which way I go, I'll be making a difference in the lives of young people.

Even as I'm writing my thoughts out, I think I know which way I'll go.

What do you think?

Blessings to you,
Mamita

I'm a Rock Star!!!

My garage band is opening for Mercy Me!!!

Just kidding... ;-)

But that's how I feel.

My dear friend, Lisa, over at A Bushel and a Peck asked me to guest blog.

She has actual readers...not just family and 2 friends. People read her blog because she is genuine, she has something worthwhile to say, and she is a veritable treasure trove of wisdom. Every time I read her words, I learn something or am encouraged to press on. I am so honored that she asked litttle-ol'-me to share my parenting thoughts over there.

Lisa is a hero of mine. She is an amazing mother of 11, including 4 from Ethiopia. Her wisdom extends to many areas of life, most especially parenting, both therapeutic (kids from hard places) and traditional. She also writes about large families, adoption, trauma, HIV, sensory issues, and homeschooling.

So head over here to read my post and head over to onethankfulmom.com to check out some of her incredible wisdom. You'll be glad you did.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

Hey, Mr. Bad Guy

Hey, Mr. Bad Guy,

The last time I talked to you, it may have sounded like I'm bitter about what happened and that I think I'm so much better than you. That's really not true.

Yes, I am angry about what happened. It was wrong. But no, I'm not bitter. Bitterness would eat at my soul and destroy me.

I am not bitter, but I have tasted something very bitter. When we chew on bitter food, we scrunch up our noses and say, "Eeeewww!" In the same way, as I carry my daughter's pain, I recognize the foul taste of this fallen world.

There is something significant in the bitter taste. My Jewish friends eat bitter herbs as they celebrate Passover. It is God's way to remind them that they were once slaves in Egypt, and slavery is bitter. God Almighty set them free. Life was once bitter, but no more.

A small taste of bitter reminds us of where we once were and does wonders for our thankfulness.

As I was writing the last post, I was tasting the bitter, and was reminded of my own rescue. I don' t think myself better than you. In fact, I'm not so very different from you, Mr. Bad Guy. I was once a "bad guy". I had junk that I wanted to hide, so people would not think poorly of me. As I contemplated the harsh truth, I asked myself if, in my life, I had ever believed any of those lies. The answer is yes - most of them. My sin is not the same, but my skewed thinking was in line with yours.

I used to think I was worthless and I treated others like they were too.
Now I know that I am valuable and God loved me enough to die for me. Other people are just as valuable --- even people who have hurt me and my children. And orphans, they have a special place in God's heart.

I used to think I was big and in control.
By my actions, I proved that I couldn't even control myself. My sin controlled me. I was a slave to it.

I used to think what I did didn't matter to others.
I didn't see it until afterward, but my sin affected so many others --- me, my husband, my kids, the youth I lead.

I thought there were no witnesses.
Jesus was there. He saw what I did.

I thought no one would ever find out.
...you may be sure that your sin will find you out. Numbers 32:23.

Little did I know that I would confess my sin publicly after a simple question from a 7th grader. I was brought to my knees when the reality of my sin and it's affect on others hit me. At that moment, I knew I wasn't a good person. I was utterly spiritually and morally bankrupt.

Busted! My whole self-righteous charade was busted!

I was at the end of myself. That was when I looked to God and begged Him to forgive me. I wanted to be right with Him, but I had so screwed everything up. And that's when Jesus scooped my broken self up and held me close. He brushed away my tears and dusted me off. He gently lead me to discover who He is. He taught me the truth.

And one day, I asked Him to be Lord of my life. I would no longer be in charge of my life. I would submit to Him in everything.

And with that comes the greatest freedom you can ever know.

I thought I would get away with it.
But what about my sin? Does that mean I just get a pass? Did I get away with it?

No.

My guilt weighed heavily on me until I was forgiven. And, even now, the consequences are in place.

My sin was not overlooked. It was paid for. Jesus took the punishment that I deserved. The seriousness of that does not escape me.

One day, I will stand at the judgment seat, and as the Father looks at me, He will see the righteousness of Jesus Christ, instead of my ugliness. I'm covered with Him.

You could be covered too, if only you will seek out who He is and submit your life to Him. I pray you do.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

You Go, Girl

Last Sunday, Sugar had an inspiration.

She thought of a really cool idea for a Sunday School Lesson. She shared her idea with the right man.

This is Mr. F.
He teaches 3rd-5th grade Sunday School at our church. Mr. F. is a wonderful, godly man who really loves the kids he works with. He is wise and gentle. (He also happens to be an awesome notary public, who signs adoption papers at all hours of the day and night, who goes above and beyond the call of duty in whatever he does --- but I digress.)

Mr. F. said to Sugar, "That's a really great idea. Do you want to teach it next Sunday?"

Did I mention that Mr. F. is wise?

Sugar came bouncing up to me after Sunday School last week so full of excitement that she could barely contain herself. She took her job seriously and worked with a friend on the lesson. All week, she considered what she wanted to teach. Saturday, we sat down and finalized the lesson plan.

Sunday morning, Sugar gathered her Bible, materials and lesson plan.

Let it be noted that we were ACTUALLY EARLY getting to church. :-)


The lesson went very smoothly. Sugar did a great job!

Here is an action shot of her actually teaching.

I cannot tell you how proud I am of this girl. My heart is just bursting with joy. She has always been willing to step out for the Truth, but this was a huge leap of faith for her.

Her lesson was on Romans 12:2 and it involved play-doh.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.

I'm already seeing a transformation.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

Jon and Kate

I know the whole Jon and Kate thing is old news, but this post has been brewing in my head for weeks now, so I just need to write it down so I have room for something else in there. (Like, what's for dinner.) :-)

This week, I worked with several hurt kids. Recently, circumstances among various friends and acquaintances have brought this post to the forefront of my mind again. I've worked with kids of all ages for 20 years now, and I've seen the same thing over and over again. It makes me sick to my stomach. Things are chugging along in their lives just fine. Then - WHAM! - Dad and Mom are splitting up. Their world spins out of control. They are angry, confused, sad, hurt, and scared. There are no words to comfort them. Only hugs and tears and prayers...



Before I really begin, I am not bashing divorced people. My heart breaks for those who have had their lives torn apart by divorce. I know that most people do not split up because of minor disagreements. I know that serious issues need serious commitment from all parties in order to be resolved - and even then, some marriages can not be saved. In those cases, divorce happens.

If you are already divorced, it is not my intention to make you feel guilty or hopeless for your kids. God has a way of healing us and using our past to help others. But the truth remains.

This one thing, I know. Whether people are on the giving or receiving end of the proceedings, divorce hurts everyone involved. That's why God hates divorce. Divorce hurts people.

But more specifically, divorce hurts children.

As an advocate and a voice for the weakest, most vulnerable members of society, I need to speak the truth, even if it is not popular.

I'm not much of a reality TV fan (except Nanny 911 - but that is another post.) However, I really liked to watch Jon and Kate Plus Eight. I started watching it last year and tried to catch it whenever I had the chance. Now that Daddy and I are outnumbered 2 to 1, I was fascinated by the organization and simplicity of that household. I liked both Jon and Kate, and the kids were just so precious. I didn't see many episodes, but I did catch the one where they renewed their wedding vows in front of their children in Hawaii...

When things reportedly went south in their marriage, I stopped watching. I didn't want to contribute to the delinquency of a marriage. I know most of our culture has a National Enquirer mentality about these things. We gawk at the wreckage and look some more to see what the next awful, juicy bit of news will be.

I see things differently. I want to hide my eyes from the pain. I grieve over the wreckage. I see eight bewildered kids who will soon be in a world of hurt. I see two hurting adults whose trust has been betrayed publicly.

I was sad for them. I prayed for their marriage. I can't imagine the pressure of living in a fishbowl during such a stressful time.

So when the big show aired, I couldn't watch. The next day, I skimmed through the transcripts. One thing jumped out at me. Both Jon and Kate said something to the effect, "I just want what's best for my kids...."

Hello...?

Divorce is not what is best for your kids.

It may be what you think is best for you right now. You may think it is the only way out. You may be so hurt, you can't see straight. Maybe you didn't ask for this and you are an innocent victim.

But let's get this straight. Divorce is not best for the kids. Divorce is traumatic for kids. It hurts them deeply, no matter their age. They may appear to roll with the punches, but I promise you, they will struggle with trust and commitment the rest of their lives.

Divorce is trauma.

What is best for your kids is to see Mom and Dad disagree and reconcile with a firm commitment to resolving all outstanding issues. They need to see apologies and forgiveness. They need to see Dad and Mom do whatever it takes to stay in the game.

When kids see this, they are much better equipped to enter marriage someday themselves. Kids are much happier, healthier, and secure when Mom and Dad work through their problems.

I know I have not walked a mile in their shoes, but I've walked a hard mile. I know that with commitment and a willingness to change the way we do things, transformation can happen and relationships can be mended.

Blessings to you,
Mamita

...and by his wounds we are healed.

Isaiah 53:5

Today, as I consider all that Christ suffered on my behalf, I remember back to a season, not so long ago. When Cupcake first came home, I identified so clearly with the sufferings of Christ. Not that my sufferings were in any way comparable to what Jesus went through. But in that season, I glimpsed a little bit of what His love for us is like.

The child that we had loved and prayed for was finally home. This deep and complete love was not returned. Instead of clinging to us and opening her heart to our love, she lashed out. She was afraid that our authority over her would ruin her life. In fits of rage, Cupcake would attack me, trying to take me down and make me pay.

Normally, I try to avoid pain. But because of my great love for Cupcake, I went toward the pain. In love, I went to her most painful place, so she might find healing. It was messy. It hurt. It was hard. BUT, IT WAS WORTH IT!

I have scars from the battle. They will probably never go away. But they are not badges of courage for me. They are reminders of His great love for me.

I was once afraid of His authority over my life. I was angry at God. I lashed out. Now, I know He is good. He cares. He went to my most painful place to bring me healing.

Jesus Christ went toward the pain because of His great love for us. As we lashed out at Him, He took it. It was messy. It hurt. It was hard. BUT, IT WAS WORTH IT!

You and I are worth it! He gave His life so you and I could know His love.

When I get to heaven, I hope to kiss His scars. They are evidence of His love for me.

If you've never known love like that, I invite you to read Luke 22 and 23. But don't stop there. For the happy ending, read Luke 24.

Happy Easter.

Blessings to you,
Mamita