Every once in awhile there is something that shakes me to the core. Something that leaves me reeling, a moment where my eyes are opened and I gain new understand. I had one of those moments this week. I finished reading Passport Through Darkness, a gripping story of Kimberly's journey into the war-torn country of Sudan. She eloquently tell the story of not only her mission field, but also how the five years spent in Sudan affected her marriage and her life when she returned home.
Her experiences are heart-strings pulling and unfathomable to me as I sit in my first world, protected, comfortable home. The stories Kimberly shares are about women banding together sharing what precious little they have, one pair of shoes or a one room hut, in order to survive the slavery and rape that is always lurking in their paths. Children disappear over night because they fall asleep in trees to avoid the hungry animals, but fall out of the trees while asleep and the animals get them anyway. Young girls, pregnant with babies too big for their bodies to deliver, sick with meningitis and young boys standing by the road, bellies swollen with malnutrition become part of her day to day life. My mind cannot even comprehend the situations she writes about in this book.
Part of her time at home was to raise money for the orphanage she wanted to build in Sudan. A place to protect and educate the children who had no hope for a future on their own. She writes about one experience where she was scheduled to speak at a church for a few weeks in a row to educate the congregation on her mission and also to raise funds. After the first visit with the congregation, a member of the church approached her and asked her not to return to finish her scheduled presentations because the content was too upsetting and to offensive to some people in the church.
When I read this I was greatly saddened. My heart, as you know, aches for the children who live in poverty. I could not imagine how I would feel or what I would say or do in her position.
And yet.....
This week while I was scanning my Facebook feed, one of the organizations that Mark and I follow was posting the pictures of the cause they are supporting this week. I saw the first picture and I quickly scrolled on because I didn't want to "see" the picture.
That is right, I didn't want to "see" the picture.
The picture showed a young child with white worms crawling out of his nose. My response to the picture was exactly the same as the church members that so greatly saddened me.
I went back to the pictures, the pictures that I didn't want to see and I looked at them. I made sure that I noticed them, that they were seen.
I am thankful for the people around the world who are making a difference in people's lives. I do not believe that anyone deserves to be treated differently just because of where they live and what is going on in their country. I just hope that as I can respond properly and not cringe at the picture as too horrific just because it it not something that happens near my home.
I am posting the pictures below. There is no pressure for you to
look at them, this is part of my journey, not necessarily yours.
Sevenly is the charity that provided the pictures below. Their mission is to take one cause a week from ending the seven diseases to finding a cure for autism. This weeks cause, END 7 diseases by 2020 can be found here.
This week we, again, are attempting to to incorporate some healthy habits into our lifestyle. So easily the quick, processed foods, or the high-sugar sweets slip into our routines. Rather than the special treats that they are intended to be, they become the norm. We are on day three of no sugar, no pop, and no processed foods. Instead we are eating "clean" foods. Foods that our bodies know how to process. I feel better already. Perhaps is it just the thought of better foods for our bodies, but I tend to think that already the clean food is making a difference.
And this is where I find myself needing to apologize to my children: We are in the
middle of this current journey not because of you, but because of me.
It wasn't that I was not equipped with the tools and the information,
rather, it is just one of my many weaknesses. I am not alone in this
weakness, but you and I both are paying for this. I won't do it
perfectly this time, much like the last, there will be failure. I know that right now it feels like I am forcing you to eat foods you do not like. I am. But it is because I love you and I want the best for you. It does not mean that the treats are gone forever, but my hope is that they will become just that, treats. My
hope is that every time we try, we get a little further and have just a
little more success. You are of age now where you need the tools and so
my job is to step it up and provide those tools for you, and here we
go.
In The Heavy, Dara-Lynn Weiss begins the book with her struggles of food, diets, and accepting herself. These words, although her own, mirror so much of my life from the Weight Watchers diet in high school to the way she felt about herself to the weight put on and remaining after having children, I related on many levels. She shares these struggles not because the book is about her, but because it is no surprise to her when one of her children ends up struggling with food.
While my children are not obese, I sympathized with her struggles to try and maintain a healthy diet for her daughter because I know how hard it is for me as an adult to try and control food intake. As they navigate through meals at restaurants, birthday parties and celebrations, school lunches, and summer camps there are many challenges for one who is wanting to be calorie conscious. Especially a seven year old little girl who does not want to be different from her friends.
There has been a lot of controversy over whether Dara-Lynn was right to put her daughter on a diet, or whether this was for herself rather than her daughter. Readers are asking if she embarrassed her daughter or was too strict. I did not read the book to judge her way of parenting. Having not walked the road she has walked, I don't know how I would react. I do agree with her that when your child has special needs, whether those be food related, academic related, or something else, as a parent, you want to provide for your child and assist them with those needs. I cannot fault her, and I actually applaud her, for stepping up to the plate and helping her daughter.
Admittedly, this book covers topics that I feel strongly about. Struggling myself with food issues, it breaks my heart to see young children yolked with the burden of obesity and the diseases that come along with it. I wonder why people are criticizing Dara-Lynn for teaching her daughter how to moderate her food intake which in turn brings down her weight, lowers her cholesterol and BMI. How can we help our children wade through the many food options put in front of them daily if we cannot talk about food, diets, and choices? Is that a responsible choice as parents, especially if our children happen to be prone to carrying weight like Dara-Lynn's?
Growing up, my parents often talked about a toolbox that we grow up with. From early stages we learn different "tools" to put into our toolbox that will assist and at times guide us in life. Many times I have reached into my toolbox, at times dusting off the tools, as I enter different situations. Considering this toolbox, I think it wrong to not provide the tools of nutrition to children, which is what we deny them if we cannot have the conversations with them about food choices.
Perhaps the controversy comes around the word "diet." She mentions in her book and in interviews that her definition of diet is a food plan that one is habitually on. Perhaps this makes sense to me, one who is on a Gluten-Free diet, but really we use the word diet when talking about the food consumption of animals as well. "The diet of (animal) consists of (food)."
As a memoir, this book does an excellent job of showing the courage of a mother to undertake the challenge of helping her daughter to become a healthy weight while preserving her daughter's integrity, self esteem, and their relationship based on the information shared in the book.
It has become tradition in our house that on January first, any activity that is done is accompanied by the statement, "This is the first time in (insert year here) that we have (insert activity here)." In sticking with that tradition, today was the first time in 2013 that an alarm was set to wake us up for work an school ending a wonderful eleven day stretch of family time. The morning time was cut back, lunches were packed, back packs loaded, and travel coffee mugs replaced the Fiesta mugs. At the appointed time, all four of us walked out the door for the first time in 2013.
Our eleven days together as a family were just what we needed to recover from the frantic pace that life brought in December. We are rested, relaxed, and ready to face the world again. I accomplished my goal for 2012 by reading a total of 53 books this past year. It feels good. (For those interested, the list is coming in a following post.) Despite the busy schedules and starting work full-time, I was able to keep on track and get it done. When asked whether I would do it again, I would say yes and no. Yes, because I loved the stories and the different genres I exposed myself to this year. Yes, because reading takes me to different worlds which is a much needed escape at times. Yes, because reading keeps my mind open to new thoughts and ideas. However, I hesitate to put this kind of goal in place right away because upon completing the goal, there was a sigh of relief. Not every open minute has to be spent with a book open now. I have missed blogging, writing, and creating and while I was hoping that perhaps my books would give me more to write about, the deadline of my goal got in the way more than it helped.
I have bounced a few ideas around about my resolution for 2013, however, I am unsure of what I want to settle on. Perhaps there won't be anything concrete or perhaps something will come to mind. I would like to get back to blogging and getting my thoughts down if for no other reason then having a record of them for me to refer back to.
With all of that said, for the first time in 2013, I am sitting at my computer writing a blog post, and it feels really good. It is a new beginning, something I needed to have before I could sit down and write again.
He has seen the movie many times and knows it by heart, where I have only seen it once. He quotes the lines right along with the actors, not missing a cue.
The actress asks, "Do you believe me?" The actor on the movie is silent, but he turns to me looking me in the eye and says, " I do believe you."
The actress asks, "Do you trust me?" The actor again is silent, but he turns to me looking me in the eye and says, " I do trust you."
And I know deep in my heart that even on the hardest of days, I am going to hang on to these words because these words were not prompted or scripted. They were words that he chose to say to express his feelings and they will get us through.
There isn't a day that goes by that these children aren't on my mind. In the quiet moments when I am sitting, I wonder what they are doing at that same exact moment. I think about them in the morning when I am getting ready for the day, and I hope and pray that they will feel your love as they begin their day. They are one of the last thoughts on my mind at night during our conversations, as I pray for your protection over them. When I am outside enjoying your glorious creation, so many times I wish they could be standing next to me sharing the same view.
I can't tell you how much these children mean to me. They have brought so much joy and love into my life. I had no idea when Mark brought up sponsorship in February of 2009 how much I would fall in love with these young lives. I was scared when we first began sponsoring these children because I didn't want to begin something that we couldn't keep up or commit to for the entire time they needed us. I was completely unsure what to expect, but I took a step of faith, and began sponsoring our first two children. I couldn't wait to write them a letter, to send them some information about our family, and to learn about them.
I still remember the first letter we received, and the joy that just completely filled my soul when the letter was in my mailbox, I literally jumped for joy. I could not wait to learn about this new little girl that we had sponsored. And that is where the story begins. A story of building a relationship. A relationship that is built on love, prayers, and letters.
I wondered how much I would come to love these children that we sponsor. I wondered what impact if any that our family would have on their lives or them on mine. Because of them, our children understand that the world is really not that big. My children know that the children growing up around the world play games, draw pictures, sing songs, and love you just the same as they do. They understand that our world is bigger than just our home, our street, our city, our state, and our country. I value that our children understand that when it seems like others seem to have more than we do, that you have truly blessed our family in abundance. These are lessons that they have learned from our children around the world.
These children have changed my life in so many ways. I know that their prayers that they close each letter with are heard and answered by you. I have seen results of that in my life. I love sharing bible verses and bible stories with them, just like I do with my own children. I get excited about the stories of passed exams, promotions into the next grades or levels, and about their hobbies and interests. It never ceases to amaze me how love grows. There is always enough love to give, and there is always more love to share.
I have to admit, I wondered how long the excitement about the sponsorships would last. I wondered when the letter writing would become a task, and when the fact that these children are many miles away would affect the relationship, but again, you have amazed me. Nearly three and a half years later, and with seven children between sponsor and correspondent children, I am still so very excited to write letters and communicate with them. I still think of them constantly and pray for them daily.
Thank you God, for this journey we are on with these precious lives around the world that are connected to our family because of you. You have brought each special person into our lives, and each one is very much a blessing.
At three years old and his favorite word was, as is with most three
year old children, "Why?" He used to ask that so many times that I
would run out of answers and finally just have to say, "because" or "I
don't know." At eleven, his ever inquisitive mind is still asking
questions. The questions, still "Why," now have more thought and more
words. These whys require more than a one word answer, an answer with more
thought and explanation.
The answer "Because" does not
work in our house. Not only does it frustrate the inquiring minds who
would like to know more, it does not give them the skills to take a
question or situation, gather information, analyze it, and come to a
solution. Because, when used alone as an answer, is often a
conversation-is-over answer. I don't want our children to be satisfied
with just taking my answer. I want them to ask questions, wrestle
with different view points, and come up with their own understanding of
the topic on hand.
Jason Mraz says in one of his songs:
Don’t dress up your children like dolls from your past
Or They’ll run from you madly, they'll never look back
And when they grow older, they’ll do just the same
The world’s a reflection of how children play
Failure
to offer my children the chance to explore the world, expecting them to
believe only what I believe and to understand everything and I
understand it, creates a world of limitations and restraints. I want to
be open to discussions with my children. Discussions where we both
wrestle with and gain new knowledge. Discussions that may end with all
parties in agreement, but also with the possibility where there will be
disagreement as the end result.
If I can create this
environment in our home, where it is safe to come to different
conclusions, then I feel we have succeeded. Home is supposed to be the
safe place where we can test out our thoughts and opinions because it is
a safe place. A place where love reigns.
If you agree with me, you are loved.
If you disagree with me, you are loved.
If you just don't know, you are still thinking about it, you are loved.
No matter what, you are loved.
Loving
my children with open arms won't always be easy. There will be days
when it is easy to love, when life is going smoothly, and everyone is
happy. But there will also be days when it is hard to love, days when
we don't understand each other. Either way, if my children know that they can practice making their own decisions in
a safe place, one where mistakes are acceptable and even expected, and
to think different thoughts, then they will be able to better make
sense of the world around them.
We have been watching a video series at church that is completely and totally rocking me to the core. I listen to these words and while my heart is cheering, "Yes, this is what I believe! I agree!" The other part of me is weeping wanting everyone to hear this message, embrace the truths, and love. Just love. Love despite differences. Love without abandon. But I know the controversy that these messages have created, you don't have to search the web very far to know that. And so, my heart weeps. Weeps for a love that is lost.
We are so quick to get on our soap boxes and "stand up" for what we believe. What we claim a "right of free speech" has become proverbial yelling to anyone who will listen. Even if we don't want to listen or don't agree, we have no choice but to see the "free speech" filling the different feeds of social media we choose to use. Love is not splashing our views of everything bad out on the web, intolerant of another. Love is not telling people who they are, what they believe, or what they like is wrong and immoral.
Aren't we called to love others? To bring them into the love that God has for us? What I read on my facebook page is not compelling. Rather it is completely the opposite. Why would someone want to come to know Jesus, when people who claim to follow him do nothing but hurl insults and condemnation? I know Jesus and I am turned off by it. I am ready to turn off the social media or do some serious cleaning out of those whose opinions I do have filtering into my feeds. I doubt He is very pleased with it either.
No, my heart is weeping because of the lack of love. He showed us how to love. We, of anyone should know what it is to live in grace. Did He, perfect in every way, accept, love, and forgive me, a sinner? What right do I have then, as a sinner, to condemn anyone else? If nothing else, I should be walking along side those who are far from him, supporting, loving, forgiving, and offering grace. I know how sweet that gift is, why withhold it from others?
Is the parable of the king forgiving the debts of a man, who immediately upon pardon runs to another demanding his money, so quickly forgotten? The debt that I have been forgiven is no less important than the next person's debt. Our struggles may be different, but they are all sin.
Today, I am not taking a stand on any political or social issues. The only stand that I am taking today is the stand of loving others. That each person, no matter who they are, deserves to be loved, forgiven, and shown grace because in truth, there is only one who can claim to be perfect. The rest of us fall short and need forgiveness.
My "new normal" as a friend put it. I couldn't have picked a better way to describe life and the amazing amount of changes that happened to our family in the month of May. Despite that we are in the second half of the month of June, I find that I am still trying to get a grasp on what our "new normal" will look like.
I don't know if I can totally process all of the changes, and some of it will be just going to the motions until it becomes routine. Then the "new normal" will just be "normal". Perhaps I am struggling because as I tend to do, I have put myself on a schedule. As I get ready for the day today, I ask myself, "How can I put myself on a schedule to process this information?" I can't. Maybe that is why my mind won't move forward.
Working full-time. After eleven years of being self employed, and working various part-time jobs, I find that I am searching. Searching for what life will now look like. I know where I am at is part of His plan. How could it not be? The timing, the open doors, everything falling into place so easily. Truthfully I am very fortunate, and I know that. But, a small part of me feels that some things I was excited about and passionate about are now on hold or will never happen. What do I do with those now?
Michal Zacharzewski, SXC
At this stage of the game, I don't see how the two will gel, the plans I had before and the way my life seems to be going now. Who knows, perhaps there is a way that this step leads me in the direction of those passions and plans. Maybe those plans where "my" plans and not "His" plans?
I know His timing is always perfect. And I find comfort in the fact that in looking back over my life, He has always prepared me for the next step. I didn't always realize it at the time, but He ever so gently took my hand and walked ahead of me paving the way to where I am today.
So as I sit here, with questions and curiosity about the next step, feeling like there is a change of direction in my life, I know that He is preparing me for the future. I may not completely know or totally understand what that looks like, but I do know without a doubt, that when I do reach that next step, I will look back to today and know that this was part of His plan, and I will be so grateful for this part of the journey.
We are all curious as we park and walk up to the front doors. For some of us, it is the first time passing through these doors, for others, it is not. They have been here a couple of times before. For me, these doors are not new, and I have pass through them more than just a couple of times. Rather, these doors while opening up to the future for my son, open to the memories of my childhood. My first days in a new city where I knew no one, and the couple of years before the adventure of high school. For me, the curiosity is what has changed, and what has withstood the years remaining constant.
Listening to the presentation about daily life in the life of a middle school student, I am amazed at how much is the same and yet, how much has changed. The attitudes, one word answers to questions, the awkwardness of changing bodies and hormones is still there, not unlike my experience. The talk of hurt feelings from text messages and unkind facebook posts, adds a whole new dynamic that I never had to worry about in this building. These years are hard, and I am afraid they will be even harder for my son. He is a great kid, I know he will do great.
Following the presentation, we are allowed to roam the halls, finding different rooms. We are directed into the cafeteria, it hasn't changed. However, I am anxious to walk the halls and explore.
We walk past the band room, the memories are there behind the locked door, perhaps to be revisited at another time. The rooms where I first learned about electricity and wood working have changed.
Heading up the stairs, we pass the main office, and I remember the kind woman who helped me transition into the new school district as a seventh grader. I will never forget her kindness and her hugs when I would sit in her office sure I would never make a friend. I point out the science rooms where E too will study Earth Science. Gone are the Home Ec rooms, now Pre-Algebra and Algebra classrooms.
Upstairs we visit the different sixth grade rooms, and I see the room where we studied Greek Mythology. Continuing down another hall, I find the door where for a year I was Heidi in German class, now and English classroom. The library is new, and I love it. It is bright, welcoming, and most importantly, my son is beyond words excited about it.
Curious and excited to walk the halls tonight, the evening did not disappoint. I celebrated the new changes and smiled at the memories. Perhaps my son will walk these halls next year and begin making memories of his own in this building. Whether or not that is where he ends up, I am so glad I had the opportunity to go back and remember my first days in this wonderful city I now call home.
We're on a journey, you and I. Was it one I signed up for? In a way, I suppose it was. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining about this path. No, it is not that at all.
The journey began the moment I said "Yes."
How many years ago was that?
However, I think the real journey began when I asked for your help. I remember all of the times we have sat together and talked. Maybe I did more of the talking? I still have a habit of that at times. Sorry. You are so patient, listening without complaint. When I talk you never criticize or belittle me, rather you encourage, support, and love... I can always count on you for that. Thank you.
I don't know why this one was different from any of the others. We have spent many times such as this together, but for some reason this one is different. What you did has not changed. What was said has not changed. Maybe it was me that changed? Probably.
It was a time of reflection.
A time of remembrance.
A time of celebration.
Celebration of you... what you did, who you are.
This morning as the house is quiet, I am reflecting on our time together this past week. It was and is good. We pushed out the distractions of the world and spent time together. This time, you talked... I listened.
The topic, Love. Of course I love. Ask me if I love deeply, my answer is yes. But when I look at your example, I am left in awe. To love at the level that you love robs me of words and breath. Knowing what you gave for me, in my weakness and imperfections, blows my mind. I cannot fathom it. I sit humbled, tears in my eyes and thanksgiving in my heart.
Then there was the story that has touched me to the core. The story of Ron, Debbie, and Denver. Another story about love. Loving with no strings attached and no judgement. Loving when it is not easy or convenient. That kind of love sounds familiar. I am still processing their story as it is newer to me than yours. But I know their story happened because they had your example.
Can I love like that? Can I look past the exterior, the behaviors, the words said, and see the heart? Can I truly love with no strings attached and no judgements?
I know you are helping me with that. That is part of this journey that we are on. Because, I know that when I can truly love like that, people will see you and your glory. And that is what I want most in my life.
As we journey together, I know that you are refining me. Am I complaining? No. I know that because of this journey I am who I am.
Today, I am better than I was yesterday.
Tomorrow, I will be better than I am today.
And for that, I give you all of the glory.
This caught my attention because we are having conversations with our children about finding the good in life and focusing on that good. Life will have its ups and downs, but it is what we choose to focus on that will determine if our life is a good one.
I have spent some time with people who tend to focus on the negative in life. Truthfully, it is draining. After listening to them for an hour, I am exhausted and feel like I am carrying a huge weight. It is not a way to build a good relationship by complaining all of the time, and do they really think that people want to hear how bad life is all of the time? Granted, there are times and situations when something bad happens and we all need a friend or someone to listen and possibly offer advice or encourage. I get that. I am talking about the people who come up to you and back up the dump truck of their lives and dump it on you every time you see them. That gets old and very quickly.
Life is a journey. As with any journey, there are hills and that are valleys. The hills that lift us up the heavens are the times we laugh and enjoy the sun on our faces. We love easily and life is good. The valleys can be deep and long. It is in these valleys that we learn faith, endurance, and commitment. If we never had to go through the valleys, how would we know what faith looks like? If we never have a struggle in our marriage or any friendship, how do we know what it looks like to stick together and work though it?
I have learned from life that as wonderful as the peaks and the good times are, I also deeply value the valleys and tough times because in both spots I am learning and growing. The hard times in life can be a blessing in our lives or they can be the burden, depending on how we choose to look at them.
It is day twelve of her fifteen day visit. He is slowly getting used to her being here all of the time. When she comes for a short visit, he is excited beyond words, but when she is here to stay for a night and wants to sleep on "his" bed and wants to eat breakfast out of "his" bowls.... well, that is a little different story. He becomes guarded and territorial.
Before she came, I bought two bones, one for him, one for her. Twelve days later, her bone looks like it has been enjoyed.
His, barely touched.
As he watches her play and interact with the kids
He watches from the sidelines, protecting his "treasure"
To try and pull him into a playful mood last week, I took them both into the backyard to enjoy the weather and catch the ball. Pix absolutely loves to play ball in the yard.
He watched while she ran enjoying the warm weather to the fullest.
On Sunday, while we were outside as a family, the kids were running around throwing the ball and having a great time. She, was right in the middle of it, having a great time, just as Pix would have been if it had not been for protecting his bone....
Rather, he sits on the sideline and watches the fun.
As I watch Pix this week, I wonder how many times I am given something in life, a friend, a gift, a talent, and rather than being out enjoying the person, gift, or talent, I sit on the sidelines to afraid that someone will take my "treasure" away. Not wanting to ruin the treasure or make it go away, or heaven forbid that someone else may enjoy it for a moment, I sit, with my chin on my treasure, wanting to join in the fun, yet at the same time, fearing that I will lose something if I let my guard down.
God gives us "treasures" in life so that they can be enjoyed, celebrated, and shared. May I remember this next time I want to sit on the sidelines protecting my treasure.
As a side note, the story above and the pictures are just brief moments in the week. He has been able to let down and run along beside his sister, enjoying the warm weather as well.
The weekend found me weary, worn, and exhausted. I am not sure what it was about last week that left me absolutely drained, but by Friday there was nothing more I could give. How fortunate I was that Mark sensed that and came home early from work to spend a little bit of time with me before the kids came home. I know this is a gift, and one I do not take for granted.
The weekend was intentional. It was a family weekend. My sister and her family came down for a visit which was very nice.
Sunday found me dreading the start of a new week before I even got out of bed. I woke up feeling the dread seep in. After church, remembering my change of perspective I decided to do something about that. We all slipped into pajamas and spent the day doing things we wanted to do, and spending time together. I put my phone "away" in that I stayed off the social media sites and games that tend to take my free time. Instead, I focused on my children and my husband. We went for a walk, yes, in our pajamas, baked cookies, drew pictures, played wii (the first time all four of us have played a game together on the wii), and played in the back yard. I also found time to read and to just sit on the deck. The time was much needed.
While Addy and I were drawing, E was working on his creation which I liked and wanted to share with you:
This morning, I laced up my running shoes for the first time in a month. With no goal in mind, but to get out and get back in the groove of things, I ran the neighborhood. As the muscles began to warm and the blood began to flow, my lungs filling quickly with fresh air, my body falls back into sync. A beautiful morning for a run, my mind goes back to a year ago when I was running this route training for the half marathon. Perhaps my mind goes there because I am missing running, a very weird thought for me. Perhaps my mind goes there because there is a 10k run coming up, and I am wondering if I want to do that run. Part of me says yes, part of me is shies away.
Today is not the day to decide. Rather, today is a day to get out and enjoy the warm breeze on my forehead and cheeks. Today is a day to keep my eyes open and see nature waking up from its winter rest.....
Windows open, a warm breeze comes in. Birds, enjoying the sunshine and warmer temperatures, are singing in the trees. A day like this normally finds me with lifted spirits. But there was something that I just couldn't shake. No matter how hard I tried, I just could not get past the negative vibes that I was feeling.
It then dawned on me what the problem was. Perspective. My day was full of gifts that normally make me happy, however, I was choosing to focus on the "problem areas" in my day. Because something wasn't going just how I wanted it to go, I was letting it affect my day and my mood.
At one of the Compassion events I worked this week, the speaker was talking about perspective. He mentioned that we become so focused on ourselves and our needs and wants, it is hard to see anything else and we can easily become depressed and overwhelmed. However, when we look around at the world around us, and we don't have to look far, we notice that there are people who are in much worse situations than we are.
During Shaun's visit, he mentioned a young girl he met on one of his trips to India. After visiting her home, which was smaller in size than an average bedroom in our homes, they headed out to visit the Compassion project she attended. On the way there, they are walking through streets where sewage runs through, and people are sitting on the roads digging through garbage piles looking for anything salvageable. The young girl stops with tears in her eyes, and Shaun asks her what is wrong. (He admits this was an interesting questions because "What's NOT wrong with this picture?") She looks at him and talks about how happy she is because of what God has done in her life and how He has provided for her and her family.
Wow.
And I am having a bad day? Really?
With this story in the back of my mind, I continue through my day trying desperately to get out of my "funk" when an email shows up in my inbox from our pastor. The family we had been praying for because their son had encountered some serious head injuries had passed away. In his twenties, and within a matter of a couple of hours, a young family member is lost.
Again, I ask myself, is my day really that bad?
Perspective. When I focus only on what is going on in my life, it is so easy to become self centered and become deceived at how "bad" my situation really is. In reality, the grieving family and the young girl in India would gladly trade places with me in a minute if all they had to worry about was my "problems".
Today I am thankful for the perspective given. The perspective that there is more to this world than just what is happening in my home, more to the world that just what I am struggling with on a given day. There are needs in my church family and around that world that when I chose to focus my attention on those by praying and helping when/where I can, the world becomes a better place, not only for those around me, but also for myself.
Monday morning after a very busy weekend. Physically I feel it. My brain is slow to get into gear, my eyes are tired and a little red. My heart..... it is soaring. The busyness of the weekend has lifted me up spiritually and emotionally.
We had a great response to our Compassion weekend, and the stories I have are not only from new sponsors, but also from the people who began sponsoring a year ago. They came back to our table and gave me an update on how their children are doing! I absolutely loved it!
Saturday night our pastor presented the Compassion table, holding up the packet of a birthday girl, her birthday was Saturday. What a great birthday gift to a child don't you think, to receive a sponsor? As soon as the service was done, a church member (almost running) came to the table, "I want the birthday girl, has she been sponsored yet?" The birthday girl has a sponsor on her birthday.
Sunday morning a little girl born on February 29, 2004 was sponsored because a grand baby had just been born a couple of weeks ago on February 29th.
A young man (high school age), after looking at the table for a long time, waited impatiently for his mother to come to the table because he had found "the one" he wanted to sponsor. He kept apologizing for how long his mother was taking, merely minutes it probably felt like hours to him. After the paperwork was filled out and the packet was in his hand, his mother asked him if he was ready for pizza. "No, I am not that hungry, I can wait." She quit packing up her belongings and looked at me and commented about how she never receives that answer from him. Her son continued to look through the books of letters that we had brought as samples of correspondence commenting about how excited he was to write to his new friend.
My heart is rejoicing.
A few hours later, I have the wonderful opportunity to meet Shaun Groves and Micah his booking agent. These two men are great people, and I am so thankful for the opportunity to have met them.
The concert was amazing. The music that has filled my car for many months was now filling our auditorium. The stories shared from the stage are still being repeated by my children this morning, even though I was at the concert and they have told me them on the way home last night.
I don't think I can even begin to put into words the evening. I am still processing it all! Luckily, I don't have to put it all into words. A friend's son caught some moments of the evening that I would love to share with you.
This couple walked into the doors of the church and sponsored the first child of the night. The joy on their faces when the found a little girl born the year they were married (possibly the same month, I can't remember) was incredible. Before the concert began they are learning about their new little girl and praying for her and her family.
These friends and fellow sponsors helped with the evening. I am so grateful for their help and their hearts. Both ladies added to their Compassion family last night as well!!
This couple raised their hands during the packet pass. Coming to the table to fill out the information, they saw a child who had been waiting for longer than 11 months and instead chose him to end his wait for a sponsor.
After her choice and her paperwork was filled out, she stopped by the Compassion table one last time before leaving the concert, with packet in hand and joy shining from her face, she mentioned how she has wanted to do this for a long time.
These three young girls are looking over packets considering which peer to help. Their choices made, it is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Photo above by Karyn Hintermeister
Photo by Merv Miller
At the end of the night, my cheeks are sore from smiling, I am excited about the 24 children who were sponsored this weekend. I am so grateful that Shaun came and shared his gift of music, speaking, and experience with us.
Again, I am humbled and amazed to see God move and speak. I am in awe
at the open hearts and the joyful giving of our new sponsors. The
stories of sponsors continue to inspire me and show me that God is in
control.
I have people ask me, "How can you choose just one?"
The answer is, I can't. I have three that I sponsor and four more I correspond with. I wish I could do more. However, I can connect other people with children to sponsor. I can continue to support and pray for the children that I have. I can show the importance of giving to others to E and Addy. And all of that combined, is making a difference.
I thank Nate Dietzman for helping me tell the story of my weekend. All photos in this post, unless other wise noted, are to his credit. Thank you Nate for your time and talents last night.
I didn't think the weekend could get any better than it was. In a conversation with my mom this morning, I was recapping the night and telling her how excited I was about it. She had been praying for this weekend for me as well.
Just before we ended our conversation, she quietly says, "I have two children too." I am quiet. She is quiet. My cup of joy has just begun to over flow. "I have two children too." She says again. My mom and dad have joined the Compassion Sponsor family as well! And there is a story behind this one as well, but the surprise is for me.
A month ago, I mentioned to my mom about a little boy that was being promoted on an advocate's blog. He was tugging at my heart, and I had been praying for him all day. My mom asked for the link, which surprised me, but I sent it to her. She considered it, but didn't know that he was the one. For a month, she has been pondering and praying about being involved with Compassion. Yesterday before I left for the concert, I received a phone call from her saying she had found two little children, but she didn't know if they were the ones, or which one she should pick.
The surprise for me is that she didn't pick which one, she picked them both. After a month of prayer, we have two new Compassion children to love in our family as well!
Welcome to the family Ruben from Mexico and Sarunrat from Thailand!!
And the count is now 26 sponsored children this weekend! 26 children who have someone in their lives to love them and support them.
.JPG)
