I never thought of my life as especially easy. I made a series of choices early on that set life up to be little more difficult. I am 32 years old and I have been married for 10 years and I have 4 children under 10...1 of those children we share with her father...another one of those children has special needs...and one of those children is Oliver Jack ;)
Harper, one day while discussing her age and our years of marriage, told someone, "Most people get married first and then have children...but my parents like to do things the complicated way." The frankness of her conversation left the other person a little surprised, but we try not to hide from the uncomfortable or the ugly around here. I know that God is light and therefore whatever I hide away in secret I inadvertently try to hide from the Lord. I want the Lord to have full access to my life...my successes, though they are few, as well as my mistakes, though they are many...all are for Him to use for his glory.
I have cried many tears over my children and I am certain I will cry many more. A mother's love is deep, wide, and tragically imperceptible of the future. Most of my tears for them has been rooted in my fear and lack of control of their futures.
I have never had to worry about their present.
Stepping into this life has been something that I never could have understood. I have read books, looked at pictures, and heard the stories about what it means to do what we do here...but, every day I am faced with a new challenge.
Last week ended with me being the most exhausted I have ever been in my life. I could say that it is not getting enough sleep or taking the time to eat like I should...but I believe it was more a spiritual and emotional exhaustion I was feeling.
I wrote my friend and told her that I was exhausted...And her response was "I am praying that the moon will stand still and you will get sweet sleep..." I didn't realize just how tired I was until I read those words and my eyes filled with tears...she then, sweetly and not pontifically, directed me to the sweet promises from the Lord that say "Come unto me and I will give you rest."
How much have I been trying to do on my own?
His yolk is easy and his burden is light...but learning to do this with Him and not just for Him has been tiring.
Last week involved hours upon hours at the cancer foundation. I wish that I could truly put into words the beauty and desperation of that place. This foundation is such a gift...people come from all over Honduras to receive quality cancer treatment for their children...but some are very poor and have to sleep outside the hospital and wait for it to open if they have two appointments on days back to back. They cannot afford to take a bus home only to return the next day and they definitely cannot afford to stay in a hotel...the only safe option is to sleep inside the gates of the public hospital...with their very sick child. Once inside the foundation, we are surrounded by sparkling white cleanliness and happy, colorful pictures...and families, that cannot afford bus fare or hotels, are given chemotherapy and outstanding care. They either cannot afford blankets or jackets, or they did not bring them with them, so they visibly shiver while undergoing treatment and recovering from anesthesia or they cover up with small hand towels. Yesterday, as a 11 year old boy woke up from anesthesia he began to panic because his father had left to go buy medicine to be administered by the doctors...and he was crying and shivering...all I could do was tell him that his father would be back soon and I wrestled with whether I should offer my sweater. I didn't want to offend him or make him uncomfortable...but he was so cold that his whole body was shaking. After a few moments, I just decided that I was going to risk embarrassing him just so he could be warm and I walked over and covered him up with my sweater. He just looked at me, smiled and snuggled under my sweater and drifted back off to sleep. I see so many things that I wish that I could share but I don't...mostly because I don't have the words but also because the memories without the experience do not justly portray the picture.
I find myself loving this country and the people.
Most everyone here is working the absolute best that they can with what they have.
I have been in a hospital surrounded by people who speak only Spanish and I didn't think to prepare for medical terms in Spanish and specifically in areas concerning childhood Leukemia. Yet, almost everyone has been patient with me...They remove their masks to speak to me because I told them I cannot understand when their mouths are covered and the words are muffled...and they gladly, without frustration, oblige. The military police, with their intimidating guns, allow me in with much less interrogation. And the doctors are beginning to realize that despite my gringo appearance, I actually do understand and I am capable of hearing the consultation and be given directives on what needs to be done.
But mostly I just do it. I see what I see, I hear what I hear, and I just do it. Because it is where the Lord has me right now and because I sit at night and I think about how the Lord knew....just knew that this little boy was dying in the orphanage behind his smile and sweetness...and because if I wasn't, if we weren't, who would?
But I cannot forget that the Lord isasking insisting, on being involved in the process...no one is strong enough to do it without Him.
At the beginning of this week, a new little girl was brought to our house. Her story is her own but she did not come from an orphanage...I knew the night was going to be long because she didn't know me at all. We had shared a meal together and I brought her a cup of milk. That was the extent of our relationship. And now she was supposed to go to sleep. I knew she would spend time grieving and I honestly prepared for the whole night to be a cycle of crying, sleeping, and crying again...and when the tears started the Lord prepared me to know that I could not comfort her...just to be with her.
She cried like nothing I have ever seen before. I would hold her and then she would push out of my arms..I let her go because I didn't want her to see my arms and trying to be forceful. She would walk to the door and cry and look out the window for someone and then she would come back to me and take my hand and lead me to the door. I would tell her that we are staying here and that everything was okay. She would crawl back into my arms only to not find comfort there and push herself down back to the ground in frustration. I would sit on the floor beside her so that she would know that she wasn't alone and eventually she would crawl into my lap for a bit to cry. This cycle happened over and over again for an hour or so and then all of a sudden she hopped up, pointed to the bedroom and told me she was ready to sleep. I put her in her bed and laid beside her until she went to sleep.
That night was the most angry I have been in a long time. I prayed that Lord would give me compassion on the circumstances that led her to be in our home that night, but I just couldn't find it. I prayed that the Lord would wrap her in His peace and help her find comfort.
But I was just tired.
This world is broken and I felt like I was picking up the pieces. I felt angry at the situation and I knew that I needed the Lord to refresh my spirit. But this world is hard.
I have never worried about my children's present.
But these children...I was taking on the worry for their present and it is new and harder than anything I have ever experienced.
The Lord is faithful though and the she slept sweetly and woke up happy. Our ROOM volunteer down the road walked in and immediately felt the Lord pulling her to care for this little one while we find her a more permanent foster home. She has been doing wonderfully there and since we are only down the road from each other we get to see her quite a bit.
I love watching how love transforms lives.
It is like fuel reminding us of how and why we step into the impossible and the ugly.
God's love transforms our lives everyday and that happened through Jesus coming and living among us and obeying God's directive to die on the cross.
In a matter of months Kyle and I have gone from living alone with our four children to being the transition home parents of 8 children. We also have 2 full time volunteers (one of which is leaving Saturday *boo*) and Jesus's caretaker Kacey living with us. At any given point we can have our neighbor Alba and her 2 children and 2 ROOM foster children and our other ROOM caretaker Kaylie and her 2 foster children in our home as well. It is busy and full and our family dinners are growing large and loud. But those family dinners are the moments when I sit back and I see love.
We aren't at the hospital or being distracted by the needs of the moment...we are simply sitting together and sharing a meal...and I see the faces of those who have all taken different paths to be at our table and I notice how love is transforming them.
Alexander is fat. Love did that ;)
Jesus is loud and strong and never stops eating. Love did that.
Judah is smiling and laughing. Love did that.
Anthony is feeling the freedom to feel what he feels. Sometimes he is happy, sometimes he doesn't feel like being happy...but he has the freedom to feel what he feels...unconditionally. Love did that.
Every child and adult around that table wears the transformation of Love.
Sometimes those moments are like the moon standing still for me. Time freezes and the Lord refreshes my spirit. He reminds me that I am not doing this *for* Him; I am doing it *with* Him.
No matter what crazy situation is thrown at us, Leukemia, abandonment, birth defects, or 4lb 1 month olds that wear diapers smaller than anything I could have ever thought was real...we have been asked to Love and we have been told that we will have trials.. but to take heart...because the creator of the universe has overcome the world....
So this week I am thankful for moments where the moon stands still, for friends that encourage me to find rest in the Word, and a "family" so large that we take up a whole Pizza Hut...
Harper, one day while discussing her age and our years of marriage, told someone, "Most people get married first and then have children...but my parents like to do things the complicated way." The frankness of her conversation left the other person a little surprised, but we try not to hide from the uncomfortable or the ugly around here. I know that God is light and therefore whatever I hide away in secret I inadvertently try to hide from the Lord. I want the Lord to have full access to my life...my successes, though they are few, as well as my mistakes, though they are many...all are for Him to use for his glory.
I have cried many tears over my children and I am certain I will cry many more. A mother's love is deep, wide, and tragically imperceptible of the future. Most of my tears for them has been rooted in my fear and lack of control of their futures.
I have never had to worry about their present.
Stepping into this life has been something that I never could have understood. I have read books, looked at pictures, and heard the stories about what it means to do what we do here...but, every day I am faced with a new challenge.
Last week ended with me being the most exhausted I have ever been in my life. I could say that it is not getting enough sleep or taking the time to eat like I should...but I believe it was more a spiritual and emotional exhaustion I was feeling.
I wrote my friend and told her that I was exhausted...And her response was "I am praying that the moon will stand still and you will get sweet sleep..." I didn't realize just how tired I was until I read those words and my eyes filled with tears...she then, sweetly and not pontifically, directed me to the sweet promises from the Lord that say "Come unto me and I will give you rest."
How much have I been trying to do on my own?
His yolk is easy and his burden is light...but learning to do this with Him and not just for Him has been tiring.
Last week involved hours upon hours at the cancer foundation. I wish that I could truly put into words the beauty and desperation of that place. This foundation is such a gift...people come from all over Honduras to receive quality cancer treatment for their children...but some are very poor and have to sleep outside the hospital and wait for it to open if they have two appointments on days back to back. They cannot afford to take a bus home only to return the next day and they definitely cannot afford to stay in a hotel...the only safe option is to sleep inside the gates of the public hospital...with their very sick child. Once inside the foundation, we are surrounded by sparkling white cleanliness and happy, colorful pictures...and families, that cannot afford bus fare or hotels, are given chemotherapy and outstanding care. They either cannot afford blankets or jackets, or they did not bring them with them, so they visibly shiver while undergoing treatment and recovering from anesthesia or they cover up with small hand towels. Yesterday, as a 11 year old boy woke up from anesthesia he began to panic because his father had left to go buy medicine to be administered by the doctors...and he was crying and shivering...all I could do was tell him that his father would be back soon and I wrestled with whether I should offer my sweater. I didn't want to offend him or make him uncomfortable...but he was so cold that his whole body was shaking. After a few moments, I just decided that I was going to risk embarrassing him just so he could be warm and I walked over and covered him up with my sweater. He just looked at me, smiled and snuggled under my sweater and drifted back off to sleep. I see so many things that I wish that I could share but I don't...mostly because I don't have the words but also because the memories without the experience do not justly portray the picture.
I find myself loving this country and the people.
Most everyone here is working the absolute best that they can with what they have.
I have been in a hospital surrounded by people who speak only Spanish and I didn't think to prepare for medical terms in Spanish and specifically in areas concerning childhood Leukemia. Yet, almost everyone has been patient with me...They remove their masks to speak to me because I told them I cannot understand when their mouths are covered and the words are muffled...and they gladly, without frustration, oblige. The military police, with their intimidating guns, allow me in with much less interrogation. And the doctors are beginning to realize that despite my gringo appearance, I actually do understand and I am capable of hearing the consultation and be given directives on what needs to be done.
But mostly I just do it. I see what I see, I hear what I hear, and I just do it. Because it is where the Lord has me right now and because I sit at night and I think about how the Lord knew....just knew that this little boy was dying in the orphanage behind his smile and sweetness...and because if I wasn't, if we weren't, who would?
But I cannot forget that the Lord is
At the beginning of this week, a new little girl was brought to our house. Her story is her own but she did not come from an orphanage...I knew the night was going to be long because she didn't know me at all. We had shared a meal together and I brought her a cup of milk. That was the extent of our relationship. And now she was supposed to go to sleep. I knew she would spend time grieving and I honestly prepared for the whole night to be a cycle of crying, sleeping, and crying again...and when the tears started the Lord prepared me to know that I could not comfort her...just to be with her.
She cried like nothing I have ever seen before. I would hold her and then she would push out of my arms..I let her go because I didn't want her to see my arms and trying to be forceful. She would walk to the door and cry and look out the window for someone and then she would come back to me and take my hand and lead me to the door. I would tell her that we are staying here and that everything was okay. She would crawl back into my arms only to not find comfort there and push herself down back to the ground in frustration. I would sit on the floor beside her so that she would know that she wasn't alone and eventually she would crawl into my lap for a bit to cry. This cycle happened over and over again for an hour or so and then all of a sudden she hopped up, pointed to the bedroom and told me she was ready to sleep. I put her in her bed and laid beside her until she went to sleep.
That night was the most angry I have been in a long time. I prayed that Lord would give me compassion on the circumstances that led her to be in our home that night, but I just couldn't find it. I prayed that the Lord would wrap her in His peace and help her find comfort.
But I was just tired.
This world is broken and I felt like I was picking up the pieces. I felt angry at the situation and I knew that I needed the Lord to refresh my spirit. But this world is hard.
I have never worried about my children's present.
But these children...I was taking on the worry for their present and it is new and harder than anything I have ever experienced.
The Lord is faithful though and the she slept sweetly and woke up happy. Our ROOM volunteer down the road walked in and immediately felt the Lord pulling her to care for this little one while we find her a more permanent foster home. She has been doing wonderfully there and since we are only down the road from each other we get to see her quite a bit.
I love watching how love transforms lives.
It is like fuel reminding us of how and why we step into the impossible and the ugly.
God's love transforms our lives everyday and that happened through Jesus coming and living among us and obeying God's directive to die on the cross.
In a matter of months Kyle and I have gone from living alone with our four children to being the transition home parents of 8 children. We also have 2 full time volunteers (one of which is leaving Saturday *boo*) and Jesus's caretaker Kacey living with us. At any given point we can have our neighbor Alba and her 2 children and 2 ROOM foster children and our other ROOM caretaker Kaylie and her 2 foster children in our home as well. It is busy and full and our family dinners are growing large and loud. But those family dinners are the moments when I sit back and I see love.
We aren't at the hospital or being distracted by the needs of the moment...we are simply sitting together and sharing a meal...and I see the faces of those who have all taken different paths to be at our table and I notice how love is transforming them.
Alexander is fat. Love did that ;)
Jesus is loud and strong and never stops eating. Love did that.
Judah is smiling and laughing. Love did that.
Anthony is feeling the freedom to feel what he feels. Sometimes he is happy, sometimes he doesn't feel like being happy...but he has the freedom to feel what he feels...unconditionally. Love did that.
Every child and adult around that table wears the transformation of Love.
Sometimes those moments are like the moon standing still for me. Time freezes and the Lord refreshes my spirit. He reminds me that I am not doing this *for* Him; I am doing it *with* Him.
No matter what crazy situation is thrown at us, Leukemia, abandonment, birth defects, or 4lb 1 month olds that wear diapers smaller than anything I could have ever thought was real...we have been asked to Love and we have been told that we will have trials.. but to take heart...because the creator of the universe has overcome the world....
So this week I am thankful for moments where the moon stands still, for friends that encourage me to find rest in the Word, and a "family" so large that we take up a whole Pizza Hut...
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| Most of these faces are in our ROOM family home at any given moment...a full house. |
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| ROOM diapers...the smallest on the right is worn by a little guy cared for by our friends and fellow transition home family... |
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| sweet Anthony...not always so sweet...but he is a fighter! |
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| Kyle and I just holding a couple of crying babies...we are clearly not amused. |
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| no baby has ever been loved as well as babies loved by Oliver Jack... |
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| all the little guys love Calvary...I love watching how Calvary's love grows through realizing that there are different ways to love a child other than simply holding or hugging...which is not really his thing ;) |
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| tiny 4lb baby foot...nothing speaks to me of the sanctity of life than seeing the details and perfection of something this tiny...He technically should still be living inside his mother and his skin on the extremities is almost translucent but he is perfectly and wonderfully formed...I have never held a person so tiny. |
1 comment:
Cassie my heart stands still. I pray for you guys everyday. I pray for the children who come through your doors. I rejoice because they will know the love of a family who oozes the love and joy of Christ. Peace be with you friend. May you find renewed strength, joy, and peace each day.
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