dear alexander...

dear alexander,

i remember the very first moment i laid eyes on you.  every mother remembers that first moment, even if that mother is only a mother for a moment.
it was unlike any other moment i have ever had with any of my other children...but your beauty was not lost on me.  the policeman that carried you seemed a little uncomfortable carrying your load...the gun that was draped across his back was definitely more familiar to him.  give me a baby any day over a gun.  i guess we are different kinds of soldiers, though.
i knew that you were supposed to be mine.  the moment i saw him carrying you, my heart leapt in my chest and i just knew.
that day you were heading to the public orphanage and we were supposed to be driving you there...the miracles that aligned so that you did not are some of the best gifts of my life because it meant that instead you came home with me.
for you, alexander, the Lord changed our lives.
for any mother that doubts that her job as mother is anything short of a calling, i can assure them that mothering a child is the deepest, most profound calling in this world.
you are so important and so valued--you are why the Lord called us to this country.
those early days were beautiful.  all of your brothers and sisters fell in love with you.  harper mothered you with all that she has inside of her.  oliver jack and finley covered you with kisses and lullabies. you are the baby that began the melting process of calvary's baby-hating heart :)  the nights were not long...instead, i cherished each bottle as a chance to snuggle and connect with you.
as you grew we started calling you papa.  oh, papa, we call you this because...well, because you looked a little like a potato for a little while...the cutest potato with arms and legs i have ever seen...but a potato nonetheless.  now, you have grown out of your potato-ness and are extraordinarily handsome...but papa stuck.
it makes me laugh a little because i addressed this letter to alexander and it felt so strange and unfamiliar...to us, you are papa.
life, your life, has been a whirlwind.
you have gained and lost several brothers and sisters along the way.  each one of those losses prepared me for what will inevitably be in our future.
i want you to know that my heart breaks knowing that i will not be your mother forever.
i will not be the one that covers your head and cheeks in kisses.
i will not be the one that sings ridiculous made up songs as you sit in my lap.
i will not be the one to watch the look on your face while you swing.
i will not be the recipient of those smiles that light up your whole face until your eyes twinkle.
it won't be me and it breaks my heart.
the Lord told me it wouldn't be me from the very beginning.  he told me that my job is to love you while we wait for your mother that will be your mother forever.
this is why you never called me mama.
we all know that's what i am...but to put a name to it, only confuses things...for me, for you, for the kids...
i want you to know it is not because of you.  you are a gift.  you are smart, handsome, silly, and loving...but you wouldn't have to be any of those things in order for me to love you or want you...you are always enough...my love for you has always been the same---when you were grumpy, unkind, or your hair was bad...i want you to know that all the days of your life.
you are enough.  you are a gift.  you are loved.
government isn't something i can explain to you at 7 months old...i don't understand it at 32...
but even if the laws were in our favor or the government had different procedures that made me being your mother forever a possibility, i am believing that it still wouldn't be me.
because if it was supposed to be me, mountains would be moved...
it's not for me not asking it.  it's not for me not pushing it.
i've prayed.  i've asked.  i've done it all and the mountains are still there.
but, i know papa, that your mama is coming for you.
she is going to cover your head and cheeks in kisses.
she is going to sing songs and watch you clap happily while you sit in her lap.
she is going to watch your face as you swing.
and she is going to be the recipient of those smiles...
she will also watch you grow up to be a boy and she will guide you into being the man that the Lord has called you to be.  your name means "defender of man" and i have no doubt that you will be voice for those who have lost their own.
she has been waiting for you and praying for you.
and i will be praying for you and thinking of you all the rest of my life.
my heart is broken, but the Lord has given me such a gift in loving you.  and when the day comes that your mama comes for you, please know that she is not taking you from your home...
i am returning you.

i will love you forever,
cassie

a strong tower...

Life on the mission field is like my house...
Here it is...I think it is charming...I love the green and the wood detailing...don't even get me started on the nice, cool breeze that passes through all the large windows...
I love this house.  When we first moved to Honduras I fell in love with this house and its charm.  I never thought I would live in it, because, of course, I was here for one week.
Yet, the call of the Lord to stay was so loud and the pull was so firm that we reluctantly made the decision to stay here.
From that point on, I called myself the reluctant missionary.
I didn't want to stay here.  It was hot.  People were always running around crazy...there was no structure or routine...I never knew what to expect the next day...our family had no time alone...it was essentially my worst nightmare.
We reluctantly said yes, but I also asked the Lord to make it so evident why he was asking me to stay when it made so little sense to me and then...well, that's when the tornado that has been our experience hit.
All in the span of two weeks our life flipped upside down.
The founder of our organization, and our host family, had to suddenly leave.
At that moment it became clear why the Lord was asking us to stay.  I thought that was it, though, but really, that moment was just the beginning of the Lord leading us as we reluctantly followed.
I kept wondering why he wanted us in our reluctance.
Surely there were people that are more enamored by adventure or have hearts that can handle the levels of brokenness that we have encountered...but still, he called us.
The Lord wanted me to know something...

He wanted me to know that his love is like this house.

I fell in love with a house in a country I didn't want to live in... and this house feels like home.
People are constantly pouring in the doorways of this home and I just love it.  We have loud, messy dinners.  We have laundry on the line constantly.  We have colorful cookware.  We have bedrooms that look like bedrooms...complete with beds, sheets, and little bed side tables.  Sure, we are often times without power.  Sure, the hot water can barely make it up to the second floor. Sure, we use a fold out table and plastic chairs for our dining room table.  But those are the things I can overlook when I feel home.
The Lord knew our home is where we invest...but he also wanted me extend my concept of home.  
He knew that people here need to be invested into deeply and purely... and He wanted us to be the ones who invested in them.

He wanted this because all around my house is this fence:

It is high, and solid brick all around.  The top 3 feet is an additional chain fence topped with barbed wire that is pulsating with electricity.

On the other side of that fence is apparently the most dangerous city in the world.  The city that we have called home.  

I have seen things on the other side of that fence that I never could have even imagined to see...

Just on the other side of this wall is the social security hospital...sometimes the stench of the hospital wafts down to our house...the street is crowded and constantly busy with motorcyclist, pedestrians, and vendors.  Many times, on this crowded, public street, we have seen people drying their clothes in the bushes while they slept on cardboard beside it...we have seen many, many naked people...some are bathing in the river while children and cattle play closely nearby...some are taking a casual stroll down the street..we also watched as a man sat beside a dog that had been hit by a car the previous day and carefully removed its insides for what i imagine to be that evening's meal.  We have watched tiny, unsupervised children juggle and beg for one lempira...basically the equivalent of one nickel...we have seen countless automatic weapons...on guards at every store, on the military police that are increasing their presence, to the trucks that the backs are brimming with military police wearing masks that cover everything except for their eyes...we've dropped off a friend's child at school countless times passing by the bus stop that was bustling with activity on the opposite corner of the school; only to see it shut down and overgrown in a matter of weeks due to threats of gang violence because that particular route did not pay their gang tax.  We shop at the grocery store where a man was gunned down by men on motorcycles carrying automatic weapons.  

All of this happens on the other side of the wall that surrounds my house...daily...hourly.

Yet, inside of this house, we know peace, love, and rest (well, most of the time).  

I think this is what the mission field is like.

  

I want everyone to know that in the midst of crazy, they can know peace.

In the middle of hate, they can feel love.

And when their bodies are dog-tired, they can rest.

The Lord hasn't asked us just to run to this house and shut the other side of the fence out either.  

Our whole life here has been inviting those that need peace, love, and rest the most into our house.  

This is where the Lord has stretched me.

He put in me a desire to open my home to others, but i never knew how to do that.  Being here, I've learned that your house doesn't have to be perfect and clean...it just has to be open.

We've also been in the places where most people would avoid going...

When God calls you to open your home, your investment grows...not only are people pulled in by love...love draws those inside, out.  The Lord made that happen when he brought Anthony into our lives and all of a sudden we found ourselves spending days that turned into nights that turned into weeks at the public hospital.  It was love that drew Kyle out to make home visits for parents wanting to be allowed to have their children back because those very children had been in our home and our hearts were to make sure they would be safe.  

It is in opening our homes that our love grows and begins to not only draw us out but shine a light into the places that would seem dark and scary without it.  

"The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and they are safe."

Proverbs 18:10

The Lord reminds me of that truth everyday.  I have had to learn, like I often do, the hard way that our security comes only from the Lord.  He has taught me, in my reluctance, what it means to enter into the messy.  

I've never once felt afraid in honduras.  

It is only when I begin to think deeply that I even can think of the craziness that our lives have encompassed.  

The Lord was teaching me that His name is that fence that surrounds my house.  Wherever we go we are instructed to invite people into our homes...to invite people into the love that we know, the peace that we know, and the rest that we know... the strong tower, the home, that we carry with us wherever we go.

I am not so reluctant in our lives as missionaries now.  

Now, I am excited and hopeful of what the Lord is calling us to next.

The only reluctance I feel is in missing opportunities to love more...to share more...

I know now, that the scariest place to be is not San Pedro Sula, Honduras, but anywhere without the covering of the name of the Lord.  

I guess He had to bring me here to teach me that.  

friday's musings...

i have missed taking the time to put down in words the things that made me happy this week...so, i am back at it.
these are the things i am loving about this week:

1.  the fact that the temperatures here have maintained at mid 70s...making it feel a little bit like christmas...plus, it is really nice not to sweat while i eat.
2.  watching alba shiver when it gets to mid 60s in the evening.
3.  the dream i had about my granny last night.  i woke up this morning forgetting that she was gone...it was a sweet time remembering her.
4.  typing this list with a baby on my lap...makes me remember all the blog posts i wrote with finley on my lap.
5.  finley's dance moves for her christmas program.
6. peeking in the kids' classrooms to see them playing, singing, or dancing with the other kids.
7.  finley's spanish...when she gets mad, she lights into people with the ferocious spanish of a telenovela...pretty impressive.
8.  the christmas tree, the snowflakes from the ceiling, the decorations....everything that makes it feel a little bit like normal here.
9.  i haven't had a soda to drink in about 2 weeks...can't remember exactly how long, but i am happy about it.
10. dorky jokes.
11.  watching the movie "The Holiday"...one of my favorites.
12.  oliver jack telling me that he is sad that he is turning 6 because he knows it makes me a little bit sad.
13.  only having 2 or 3 complete spanish goof ups this week.
14.  family dinners with lots of crazy people around the table.
15.  harper taking broccoli and cheese soup in the largest container i have ever seen with zero hesitation to school..she is the bravest person.
16.  oliver jack's advice to calvary on how to deal with a bully: "bite him."
 17.  life calming down just enough to sit for a few minutes in the morning and have coffee.
18.  having a house full, full of people to love.

Mothering...

"i've discovered that this act of mothering is my worship to Him right now; dying to self & delighting in them...there is failure, oh yes it is messy and sloppy sometimes, yet forgiveness and grace and growing."

~lovelyn palm

this quote...
this quote speaks to my heart.
it is loving and delighting in these children...mine and the ones that are only mine for now...that i am choosing to worship the Lord.
it is not through being a mother that i am worshiping the Lord; it is through the act of mothering.

mothering isn't just for mothers.

i've watched our volunteers teach the babies that come into our care what a mother's love feels like. they have never been mothers themselves yet they pour the love that was poured into them into the lives of these little ones...they delight in every smile, giggle, and do not even flinch at the poopy diapers or midnight feedings...

my children...they blow me away with their gentle spirits and loving hearts.  finley says, "we need to love them so that their mamas can learn how to love them, right? they didn't know how, so we need to teach them, right mama?" calvary wants to take pictures of every body so that he can remember them for always.  oliver jack....he is just the most pure and sweet love.  and harper...we knew she was born for this.  she always tells me that she is going to live here forever.  i don't doubt her.

this is how the Lord is asking me to worship Him.

in the middle of the messy and sloppy i am surrounded by forgiveness, grace, and growing...and it has been some of the most beautiful moments of my life.

the moon will stand still...

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 is asking  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...

Most of these faces are in our ROOM family home at any given moment...a full house.

ROOM diapers...the smallest on the right is worn by a little guy cared for by our friends and fellow transition home family...

sweet Anthony...not always so sweet...but he is a fighter!  

Kyle and I just holding a couple of crying babies...we are clearly not amused.  

no baby has ever been loved as well as babies loved by Oliver Jack...

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 ;)

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.

Brazos de amor...

"Brazos de amor"... these are the words written on the hospital clothes that I put on the little boy that I had only brought into my house only 5 days before.  The significance of these words shot like a knife through my exhausted spirit and I just finally released myself to cry.  

This is Anthony.  He has a smile that captures the attention of anyone that sees it and he is so generous with that smile that he never meets a stranger.  The first time I met Anthony he was handing his extra banana to another little girl..."ey! muchacha! mira!"...he then handed the banana to her and continued to play. He had me at, "ey!".... I had heard of Anthony prior to my visit to the public orphanage because he had already captured the hearts of our volunteer, Katlyn, as well as Kyle.  It didn't take much for me to follow suit and my heart just melted into a puddle of love for him.  

In the weeks prior to us bringing Anthony home, the Lord was preparing Kyle and I to become a transition home as one of our largest responsibilities here with R.O.O.M. It was becoming obvious that our hearts were kind of made for this type of love and we already had Alexander in our home for his entire 2 months of life so far as well having Jesus and his amazing caretaker Kacey living with us. It only seemed natural to continue to add to our home.  My only thoughts when talking with Tara and Johana about the ages of the kids we could bring into our transition home was that I wanted children that needed less individual, extra attention.  Babies require A LOT of one on one adult care..Estrella and Jesus require A LOT of extra care.  With all of our other responsibilities within R.O.O.M. as well as our family's needs, I requested to bring older children into our home that would be looking to transition out into permanent families.  

We specifically asked for Anthony.  

The Lord laughs at using what we think we need to be used how He wants us to be used.  

The day Tara, Johana, and Bekah brought Anthony into our home was a happy day.  Although 6 kids were given the okay to be removed from the public orphanage into R.O.O.M. foster families or transition homes, only 2 made it out that day...Anthony and Judah, the 11 week old baby, were placed in our home.  

The first thing we noticed after bringing Anthony into our home, after loving on him and showing him around, is that the slight quirk Katlyn originally noted in his leg that had turned to a true limp was now a debilitating issue that kept him from most mobility.  I also noticed that the Lord gave me the freedom to pour into him in ways that I had not felt free to love with the other children who were transitioning through our home.  I also noticed that the Lord clearly gave Anthony the same freedom to love me in return.  

2 days after he came into our home we took him to the doctor for a basic check up as well as to ask specifically about possible need for OT or XRays needed for his hip.  

While at the doctor, he delivered the initial blow that this smiling, happy boy was the sickest child we have had.  

He initially thought the connection between the cough and leg pain was tuberculosis.  He also suspected that it could be a bacterial infection in his hip that may have need surgery.  

Our hearts were devastated by these potentials and we prayed to know what was best for this sweet boy.  The following day we went to get the results from the tests and the doctor took one look at his blood work and told us that Anthony has Leukemia.  

I immediately cried.  The doctor told us of a foundation here that we could begin treatment and began to tell us what a gift from the Lord that Anthony was removed from the orphanage and would have devoted caretakers to help him through this battle.  

And this is where I realized that the Lord used what I thought I needed in order to have us fight for what He knew.  He knew that Anthony needed to be in a family.

Babies are the ones that generally struggle the most in the public orphanage.  The attention that they need is difficult for the understaffed, overcrowded orphanages to properly serve and the babies suffer as a result.  Our Scarlet Project normally only brings out the children in need of extra attention or struggling with health needs.  Our transition homes offer another area of orphan care by offering homes for children that are adoptable or could be placed in foster families.  Little did we know that when we were bringing Anthony into our home as a candidate for our transition home program that he would actually be one of our precious Scarlet Project children.

I asked Kacey one night why it seems that the Lord keeps bringing children into R.O.O.M.s care that need special care and her response was perfect, beautiful, and true...she said, "We are called to serve the least of these...and that is what we are doing."

So, Monday morning, only 5 days ago and only 5 days after Anthony first came in our door, we walked into a pediatric cancer clinic.  Our day was long and the things we saw in that clinic I will never forget.  I comforted him, held him, and prayed over him as I would have for my own children...because in this moment, the Lord has entrusted him in my care...

It was that truth that brought the tears to my eyes when I read the words "Brazos de Amor" inscribed in the seam of his clothes..."Arms of Love"...that is what the Lord is asking me to be for Anthony.  

Before I read those words, I held him in my arms as he cried and screamed to crawl into my arms after his lumbar puncture...That smiley boy laid there on the table and I thought, "I can't do this...it's not supposed to be me..."

But because the Lord knew it, he finds comfort in my arms...

The beauty of the Lord continues to astound me...the fact that this precious child is so intimately known...the fact that the Lord provides...the fact the Lord entrusts us with his most precious creations to show His love...all reduces me to realize that it is supposed to be me...because it is supposed to be all of us.  

So. five days ago we entered the hospital as a team.  Anthony, my family and I, our volunteers, and our organization are in this together.  By the grace of God, Anthony is not fighting this alone...

We are surrounded by warriors... the lady in this photo is on her knees every night praying for every child fighting cancer alongside her daughter.  The staff openly suggests for the parents and caregivers to pray and ask the Lord for His help...they are quick to remind us that we "falta nada" (lack nothing)...I love that about this country...a public hospital openly serving the Lord.  

So our team is forming...I have had the honor of standing by him during the day in the hospital and Bekah and Johana have shared the honor of standing by him in the evening...Everyone at home has helped maintain order and is graciously picking up what we are having to lay down...we are all in this together..

And the team grows on to doctors and donors...oh me...what a gift of life blood donors are...after 1 pint of blood and 2 bags of platelets, Anthony was a different boy.  If you have ever given blood...this is a thank you from me to you!  

As I paused to think what to write next I heard Anthony say, "Cassie! Listo?" and I turned around to see that crazy big smile and him give me a thumbs up...

How perfect is that?!?  

Yes, we are ready, my love...I am ready because the Lord goes before us.  He is ordaining our steps and I have never known that or trusted it more than I have over the past few months...and the best thing is knowing that we are more than conquerors in Him...

This is definitely the face of a champion.

If you would like to join our team and help support the cause please consider donating to R.O.O.M.s Scarlet Project that pays all the healthcare costs for all the children in our program.  Every surgery, every medicine, every doctor visit is paid for by donations to this program.  

And for 10 more days, every donation will be matched by a generous donor.  So $10.00 becomes $20.00, $100.00 becomes $200.00...all the way up to $15,000!  

Donate to the Scarlet Project to help pay Anthony's medical bills.

their stories...

“A million is just a statistic until you meet one…”

Never has it been more clear to me that my life is not my own than in this current place in time.  I have moments where the lack of control sends me into a tail spin…I want to know what will happen next; I want to plan for future…and the uncertainty makes it impossible to plan for lunch let alone anything farther. 

However, there is also a peace that I have never known before at any other point in my life. 

I can feel God’s presence like never before.

I can sense Him leading me and directing me. 

The peace of God draws me to Him. 

It was His voice that has whispered to my heart things that do not make any sense in the moment only to realize days later that His Providence is perfect if only I still myself to listen. 

A little over one month ago, I picked up a statistic and held that number in my arms.  In that moment, all of the numbers melted away and I saw him.  

His name is Alexander. 

It was not a name picked out through months of perusing books or family histories…

it was a name picked out by the women who started his abandonment paperwork. 

We, by God’s design, were at the INFHA offices to learn about the foster parent process by watching another family sign paperwork allowing them to be a substitute family.  We watched as he was carried in a pile of towels by a Honduran police officer…it was a sight like none I have ever seen…machine gun draped carelessly against his back while he held this baby wrapped in towels like a casserole. 

My heart immediately wanted to know this child’s story.  Where was he going?  Where has he been?  What is going to happen to him? 

Tara, who is known for her persistence when it comes to fighting for these children, also wanted to know his story and where he was going.

While we waited to find out his story, we met another little boy around 6 years of age.  He had been found in the park.  He was giddy and silly and wanted to run and play.  We had all of our kids with us as well as Tara’s son, Josef, so we look like a fun crowd…we asked if he could come and play with us outside and the overwhelmed office ladies gladly obliged our request. 

His name is Chico. 

Chico is missing both his front teeth, like Calvary.  He laughs at silly jokes and loves pizza.  The coke he was drinking seemed like a bad idea, but he certainly enjoyed it! I am not sure most of his story, but I do know that he is at the public orphanage now instead of sleeping in the park where he was found.  And although the public orphanage is no place for a baby, it is very much a better place for a boy of his age compared to sleeping in the park. Every time we visit there he remembers us and plays with our kids. 

Alexander was supposed to go to the public orphanage that day.  We were supposed to drive him there. 

Tara was not going to let that happen without a fight.  Babies have a very difficult time at the public orphanage because of the high number of special needs children that they have there.  Babies need more attention than most children…and without that attention, they don’t thrive. 

So Tara fought and Alexander came home with us. 

I felt God urging me to care for this baby…to stay with him.  We realized quickly that he had not even had his first bath yet...his umbilical cord was tied off with a string.  He was not born in the hospital, for sure.  We took him home and bathed him and took him to the hospital for blood work and an exam. 

He was healthy.  7 pounds of God’s most perfect handiwork…. arguably a little hairy…but the most perfect, hairy angel you have ever seen. 

I felt such an urging to stay and care for Alexander…Tara still had C3 working and she was also scheduled to go back to the States for 2 weeks…I felt strongly that Alexander needed a consistent caregiver in order to establish healthy attachment and growth.  

So, Kyle and I decided to stay and seek God.  What are we supposed to do?  Where are we supposed to be? 

I told God that I needed Him to write what he wanted us to do on the wall…it was going to have to be exceptionally clear if He wanted us to stay…Honduras was not in our plans.

In that 2 week time of seeking we were introduced to another little boy and his caregiver, Kacey, who came to live with us at the Garcia’s house. 

His name is Jesus.

I am writing this blog at a table while he hungrily shoves cereal in his little mouth.  Jesus is a fighter like no one I have ever met.  In the month that I have known him he has battled fever, infection, appendicitis, and he only just left the hospital on Sunday after receiving treatment for infected shunts for his hydrocephalus and receive new shunts.  Kacey has written more about his story here (www.kaceybolin.wordpress.com).  It is impossible to not love him.  It didn’t take us long to realize that, aside from his physical differences, he is much like many typical 6 year old boys.  Kacey has taken the time to know him.  She speaks to him in a way that shows that he understands and he responds to her showing that she is correct to assume so.  Calvary loves Jesus.  He talks to him and gives him toys.  It brings tears to my eyes just to write about the things Jesus has shown me about Calvary.  Harper, Calvary, and Oliver Jack made pictures to decorate his hospital room and almost every picture includes Jesus running, climbing, and smiling freely as he plays.  They want to see him whole.  The desire of Kacey’s heart is to see Jesus in his forever home. 

The desire to see Jesus in a forever home is the exact desire that has been in my heart for Alexander. 

I felt like God was telling me to stay in the gap with him until he is home.  Kacey has expressed that the Lord has placed the same desire on her heart for Jesus. Our prayer and request that God would make that calling clear was made abundantly clear when Tara and Jorge learned that they would unexpectedly have to return to the States.  

In one instant we realized that we were going to be standing in the gap for more than Alexander. 

God has also shown us that we are excellent gap fillers and I am really beginning to love that role!

Not long after we learned that Tara would not be returning from the States we also learned that a baby girl who captured the hearts of the group visiting from Texas was going to be released into our care from the public orphanage. 

Her name is Eda.

Eda is 2 months old and, much like Alexander, God placed a sense of urgency on the hearts of a couple working here from the group in Texas.  Even when they returned to their home in Texas they prayed for her…that she would be released from the orphanage and that she would be placed in a family.  It was with joy that we were able to share that she was no longer sleeping in an orphanage.  She is beautiful.  She has the most precious pouty lip that puckers just as she is about to cry.  She also has the deepest brown eyes.  We have decided that Eda and Alexander are going to be best friends and they seem to support that decision. 

I like to lay Eda and Alexander down together and let them play side by side.  I marvel at God’s Providence and how all too often we focus on numbers when it comes to greatness. 

We like to say things like, “1 million dollars was donated!” or “1 million people accepted Jesus into their hearts” because we view the volume as great.  But the Lord looks at each giver’s heart that is attached to each of those million dollars.  The Lord knows each one of those million hearts that have invited Him into their hearts. 

If it would have been 1 dollar, the Lord would rejoice in the same way.  If it would have been on heart, the Lord would rejoice in the same way. 

Jesus would have died on the cross to save one.  I know this.

I believe that is why the Lord is showing me that it is important to tell others the names of these children.

The statistics are staggering here…

More than 1 in 5 children under the age of 5 are stunted in growth due to malnutrition.

Honduras, as of 2010, has more than 200,000 orphans that make up a heart breaking number of their population.

2 in 5 children that start school, never finish. 

These numbers are staggering.

Yet, when I stop and attach a name and face to each one of those numbers it is even more painful. 

So today, I am thanking the Lord for the Hope He has given us through Eda, Jesus, Chico, and sweet Alexander.

He reminds me that He sees each one.  He knows each face. 

And because of that love, I can follow Him anywhere and trust Him through anything.  I am not just a number.  We are not just numbers.

Even when He asks us to move to Costa Rica and leave the life we made in the United States behind us, I can trust Him.

Even when He then asks us to stay in Honduras and leave the life we made in Costa Rica behind us, I can trust Him. 

Most of the time following the Lord doesn’t make sense until it just suddenly does.

So, just as I have never been more convinced that my life is not my own as much as I have in the past few months….I have also never been more convinced that I am intimately and personally loved as I have been in the past few months. 

"'Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,' says the LORD, who has compassion on you." (Isaiah 54:10 and my new favorite verse :) )