The body remembers...

7 years today I held my 12 pound one year old son in my arms for the first time. I met my shy, scared 4 year old. I can bet you neither of them remember the date, but their bodies remember. A brain somehow etches into permanency the trauma of adoption. So many people idealize adoption, and while it is beautiful, it is tragic, it is trauma, it is devastation. I cannot imagine being a 4 year old and being told, "Go, this is your mama now". That is all Maran was told in her language. She had not seen a white person, she had not heard the English language, and in the orphanage, she hadn't been caressed or changed or tucked in. And now here is this woman and man she has never seen that are doing these things. I cannot imagine the fear and confusion. The mind may forget the details but the body remembers.

This month has been hard, plain old hard. Trauma rears its ugly head in whining, attitude, discontentment, anger, uncontrolled outbursts, lashing out with words, and regression. Bed wetting, sibling arguments, ungratefulness, negative attitudes. And when you bend down and look in their eyes and say "This isn't you, whats going on in your heart?" The response is I don't know. The mind can't put it all together at this age I guess, but the body remembers. The body remembers leaving the orphanage, the place where 4 "mamas" cares for 35 kids, where one meal a day was all you got, and even that was often sautéed leaves and worms and a ball of dough called Fufu. The orphanage was the place where 6-8 kids slept on a queen mattress on the floor, where they would bring a bucket in at night and you would sit your bottom on the edge of it and go to the bathroom before bed. The orphanage was the place where the older kids would target the younger to take their one meal a day because they could push a baby out of the way to get a double portion, the scar still protrudes on Levi's head to prove it.

I can't believe it has been 7 years. Part of me wondered if at 6, 7, 8 , 9 years home that they would forget the painful memories of trauma, but the body doesn't forget. Doctors say continued hunger and malnutrition in the first 2 years of life creates a trigger in the brain that can rarely be reversed. Food equals nurture from that day until forever, which brings its own set of issues. Food is intensely triggering during these periods of grieving. This year for my child's birthday I got the most special breakfast, I brought their favorite treat to school to share with friends, I had an expensive rare treat waiting for them as an after school snack, I cooked their favorite dinner and dessert that evening, but it wasn't enough. Why didn't you do this mom? Why did I not get celebrated enough mom? It is a vacuum that cannot be satisfied. It is exhausting and so hard to parent through that from a place of patience and compassion.

I think the hardest part about walking with someone through grieving is when grieving doesn't look like grief, it looks like anger, apathy and irritability. Give me tears and "this is hard" and I am there by your side echoing your hardship and comforting and affirming. But the alternative form of grieving stirs my default reaction of stress, frustration, impatience and a lack of compassion. I am trying to take a step back each day and ask God for just what I need for that day, not get afraid of the future or how long this will last, but just enough grace to give my kids for today. I ask him for eyes to see their regression and anger with compassion, because it stems from them sensing that their world is not as it should be. And that is a true assessment, it is not how it should be. No kid should lose their first family.

But as I tell them as I tuck them in, 'our family is forever', 'it is ok to be sad and mad', 'mom still loves you and always will no matter your behavior', 'I am sorry I got frustrated with you today, that was not kind of me'. Affirmations, apologies and vulnerability do go a long way in the midst of grief.

As I am learning from my diagnosis, people don't tend to do well when there is no "end" in sight to suffering, when there is no promise here on earth that this will tie up with a pretty bow and you will just say "Wow wasn't that worth it all". Not here, no. In heaven, all the sad things will come untrue and all of the suffering will appear as a brief second in time that had complete purpose filled with love and intentionality.  But in the meantime we will put one foot in front of the other, love when we don't feel like loving, ask God to help us to endure well, and enjoy the lives He has given us. Happy 7 years together to my sweet treasures.

Ramblings of a White mom with Black kids

(One of my friend groups in 6th grade)

My first encounter with my whiteness occurred my 6th grade year. We lived in Tampa and they were trying to integrate the schools (click the link for a great video explanation of redlining and current day segregation) so they were bussing our suburban neighborhood into the inner city. My mom gave me the choice if I wanted to switch to private school that year and I chose public. The first day of school was the first day I ever was the minority. It was a predominantly black school situated across from the housing projects of inner city Tampa. I remember not feeling afraid, just aware. I remember that year noticing the different ways teachers treated kids of different races. I was given the benefit of the doubt, they typically weren't. I could get away with talking in class, they got a consequence. Most of my friends were black. That year changed a lot in my heart. We got out of school frequently for shootings, the projects being on fire, etc. I remember thinking, this isn't fair.

Fast forward a few years, God set something deep in my heart for reconciliation. I remember strangely having a heart set for Africa. I wanted to move there, I wanted to adopt. In my sophomore year of college, I met my future husband John. He was the punter on the Auburn football team. His best friends were mostly black. His roommate was black. He grew up in Brazil and had a perspective on the world I found wildly interesting. I told him "Don't ask me to marry you if you don't want a multi-racial family"... we were engaged a few months later. Our first neighbors were black. I would have afternoon conversations with her that opened my eyes more to the black experience as an adult. She would tell me about bias in her job, bias she experienced while shopping or dating. I was shocked, and it hurt my heart for what she had experienced.

Fast forward a few years into our marriage, we had a 3 and 4 year old, lived in a suburb of Raleigh, and were looking at schools for our kids. We decided then that public was the route for us. We wanted our kids to see the world and all the differences in it. We wanted our school to be a place that represented the diversity of the world. We soon journeyed into international adoption from a Central African country. Bringing these two beautiful children into our family stretched me more than ever before. I educated myself on everything from moisturizer, to hair care, to adoption issues, poverty, struggles of a transracial adoptee, and raising children with trauma in their history. I pressed deeper into the black community for wisdom and advice. I intentionally expanded my community to embrace and authentically love people of color. I wanted our children to grow up with role models who looked like them. My own inadequacy grew as I am a white mom raising two black children. I don't know what it's like to be black, yet I am raising two black children.

As my kids got older, and I listened more to the black experience of society, it was no longer an "out there problem". It was my problem. It was my son who could've been shot while ringing a doorbell looking for directions. It was my son who could have been shot while being pulled over and reaching for his license. It was my daughter I would have to tell to be more cautious walking through a store. I grieved and feared as I realized I would have to raise my black son to be more careful in neighborhoods, driving, stores, etc. I realized my black son would most likely receive less of a second chance, more of a "guilty until proven innocent" mindset where my white son would most likely be given the benefit of the doubt and assumed "innocent until proven otherwise". My fear escalated and I reached out to moms of color and asked for wisdom. I didn't want to parent out of fear of who society would see my son to be, but yet the racial climate in society is clearly tense. How do I not teach my son to live afraid but at the same time realize he has to be more careful than his siblings when sitting down at a coffee shop or while driving a car? It honestly makes me sick, my heart truly laments what I have to tell my children as far as history of the black experience and the current status of race in America. It should make us all sick. This is not a "black people problem" it is all of our problem.
We have grown up hearing a narrative about race. We need to dig deep and explore the narrative we believe. We need to have ears to hear hard things. We need to repent of our own prejudiced hearts. We need to examine our thoughts and fears when it comes to people of a different skin tone. We need to build geniune relationships outside of people who only look like and think like us. 

The same evil that fueled the Holocaust is the same evil behind slavery, lynchings, Jim Crow laws: the essence that you take someone's humanness away, rejecting that they were equally made in the image of God as an expression of His beauty, and treat them as lower than an animal. There were centuries of oppression, injustice, murder, hatred. How do we think so wrongly that 60 years of "progress" in this racial injustice has changed centuries of hate? 

When a murder happens like Stephon Clark, Eric Garner, Charles Kinsey, why does the white community so often respond with questions about circumstance instead of empathy? Shouldn't loss of life be worth mourning no matter the circumstance? Shouldn't we take the time to listen why these instances spark fear in the heart of our black neighbors? Aren't we supposed to love our neighbor as ourself? The problem is our neighbors look a lot like us, only like us, and we have redefined neighbor to sameness. We are not reaching across our differences and asking questions, leaning in, listening, mourning with those who mourn. 

Explore the narrative you have lived and heard your whole life, where has it taken root in lies? Examine your community. A pastor at our church so wisely said, 'Uniformity is not unity'. The root of surrounding people who only look and think like you is self-love and selfishness. Lean into the discomfort. Fight for reconciliation. Explain race in a gospel centered way to your children, color-blindness is just another form of racism. They see color just like we do, so showcase it in all of the beauty God intended. Diversify your dolls, your bookcases, your discussions around the dinner table.

Is the ground level at the cross? Yes. Did Jesus die for this reconciliation? Yes. Is his blood enough to break down this racial hostility? Yes. Does he already have victory over the evil and hate that divide us? Yes. But we are still living in the in-between. The not yet. I feel like the disciples on Good Friday. That did not look or feel like victory to lose your savior who was supposed to bring peace and have victory over evil. That looked like defeat. 'Surely this isn't how it is supposed to end' they must've thought. 'You can't leave us like this Jesus', they must've felt. I thought you came for peace, I thought love covers a multitude of sins? Yes. It does. But his kingdom isn't on earth yet in its fullness. It isn't on earth as it is in heaven. Yet. So until that day comes I will keep raising my voice, using my privilege, against hate and injustice. I will fight for reconciliation, until Jesus brings it to completion, and thank God he will. But I have a role to play, and I will play my part no matter how I fumble through it, mess up, and move forward and then back again. My kids deserve it, the world desparately needs it.

Please look into these books and resources as you lean in to this topic.

A 3 part series on Race in America our church did: 

http://summitrduinstitute.com/classes/race-america-week-1-3/

http://summitrduinstitute.com/classes/7156/ 

http://summitrduinstitute.com/classes/7156-copy/

Books:

Just Mercy, by Bryan Stevenson

White Awake, by Daniel Hill

Under our Skin, Benjamin Watson
Oneness Embraced, Tony Evans
I'm Still here, Austin Channing Brown

Blog post on White Privilege 

Into the Chaos

In my mind, Christmas should be this idyllic time of tradition, joy, merry-ness, time around with the kids in the evening discussing the joy and expectation of Advent-Christ coming into the world. But if I am honest, I am limping toward Christmas, tired, exhausted, confused, and feeling like I am in the midst of chaos. I feel so overwhelmed myself, that the idyllic picture is far from reality and then I feel more guilt and disappointment that I am not at a place to provide that for the kids. A toilet overflowed that ended up costing us thousands and weeks to fix, I have been sick for over a week, I have a child whose adoption trauma is highlighted around the holidays with food issues and grieving, the school has called twice for behavior issues and a concussion, we had an unforeseen financial thing happen that was not our fault but we were financially responsible,  I had to wait 2 weeks for a potential medical diagnosis that would have changed my life tremendously, the boy that I begged God to heal died, and then my plans for what I thought our future was looking like are being challenged,  and even today noticing a passport is expiring so close to such a special international trip that sent me all over the city getting documents and paying additional fees to rush the process. All that to say, life is chaotic right now. I am tired. I am disappointed. Things aren't playing out like I thought they should in certain areas. But that is where God shows up. That is advent.

My thoughts went to Mary this morning, at the end of her pregnancy with who was to be the Savior of the world, and just as she was getting close to delivery, they have to take an unforeseen trip that pulls her out of her plans and into chaos. Riding on a donkey for days and days, ending up with no where to stay. I can't imagine her thoughts as the innkeeper said there was no room. If I were her, I would think, "Seriously God? A stable? I thought you told me I was having your precious Son who would be the light of the world and rescue and redeem us? Something must be wrong here. This can't be the plan." But that is how God works. Out of the chaos he brings order. Out of the disappointment and brokenness, He brings his presence, Emmanuel, God WITH us. This precious savior was born in the nastiest of places, to parents dealing with shame and poverty, in a climate of political upheaval and danger. And his name was called God WITH us. He didn't come as the triumphant king everyone thought he would be. He didn't come with what looked like a happy ending wrapped in a bow. He came to a dirty stable and lived heading towards death on a cross.

That is the message God apparently has for me this advent. God doesn't owe me a life that works out the way I think it should. I think the happy ending is what I am promised, but it is not. My plans are not working out with a pretty bow wrapped around them. Things are messy and chaotic. But there He is, in the midst of it all, reminding me not to idealize the happy endings and perfect plans, but to find him in the chaos as he comes to bring order and peace and deep abiding joy beyond circumstance. It is what he has been doing since before creation, bringing life out of nothingness, bringing order out of chaos, resurrecting places that are dead and broken with beauty, giving us his presence in the midst of suffering. He is the reward. Not the negative medical diagnosis or the child with no pain. Emmanuel, Christ WITH us is enough.

"The Angel had said of Mary, "Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her" And this blessing isn't always what we think- the happy ending we wanted and the desires of our hearts fulfilled. Blessed is she who believes His promises. The blessing is different from blessing as the world sees it. It isn't an easy life or one of success. Blessing is, that as we find ourselves in a place that God has yet to explain, may never explain, a place or a life that doesn't line up with what we had in mind, He gives us a promise...It is the promise of Emmanuel, God with us. He will be here with us, our great reward" Katie Davis Majors, Daring to Hope. 

So maybe this Christmas isn't so Merry for you right now either. That is ok. Instead of being merry, I am simply looking for him. He is good even when life doesn't look it. When the package isn't tied up with the pretty bow, there he is. Reminding me He is for me, with me, working it all for my good. He reminds me to wait, to trust, to be expectant. The message of advent.
"And he shall be called, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6

5 years together... A letter to Maran and Levi

Maran and Levi-

I cannot believe its been 5 years since we met your sweet faces in Congo. Those days are forever etched into my memory. Levi, all 11 pounds of you in your blue outfit and Maran, shy and quiet with that denim jumper 3 sizes too big tied around your small frame over a brown and orange sweatshirt in the 80 degree heat. It wasn't a magical moment by any standards for anyone to witness. There was no "mama!" shouted or running into my arms. It was a quiet and somber moment that none of us understood the magnitude of what we were entering into, and for you two especially a moment of fear and uncertainty.

So many people call you both "lucky". You are not lucky. You have walked through trauma no one should ever experience. Maran, you became a mother figure to your baby brother at 3 1/2. You carried him, cared for him, fed him, fought for him. Levi, at such a crucial time, you had the bond broken with the woman you knew as your nurturer and protector. This is tragic and if I could somehow heap your pain onto myself and remove it from your heart I would... or maybe I wouldn't. Maybe instead I will pray that this pain propels you into dependence on a perfect Father who would never leave or abandon you, the Savior who always provides, never lets you go hungry, always cares, always listens, always comforts. Maybe this pain and trauma is the very mess that becomes your greatest strength and greatest reminder of the rescue God has done in your life. Not through me, no, I am not your rescuer. He is. He reached down into the pain of loss and abandonment and called you His. 

I am no Savior, us adopting you has not given you a now pain free life. We  pray we can create an environment for you to grow, to heal, to get to know the real rescuer.

Your pain is real and it is something I have never experienced. I hope in my parenting I never minimize the weightiness of the grief that you experience. I realize I put so much pressure on myself to try and "heal your wounds" and as my wise counselor reminds me, I cannot hold your healing in my hands. I cannot parent you perfectly in a way that your grief melts away. I cannot make everything alright again. But, I will give my ALL to fight for you, to work with you, to grieve with you, to comfort you when you are sad or scared.  I am so far from perfect. I am sure some of the flawed ways I try to love you will actually hurt you. And I pray God covers that with his love and grace and uses those moments to show you HE is the only one who never fails or disappoints. 

I am so honored to be your mom. I share that title with another woman and I hope I can help you love and honor her too. I am beyond grateful for the love and life she gave you as she could. 

Levi, the other day at school, someone told you that you were just an orphan and that your real parents were probably dead and that you don't have a real family. My heart broke for you of those triggering words of hurt someone spoke over you. I did my best to comfort and remind you that you had two families who loved and did their best for you. Your identity is not an orphan, it is our precious son, it is a boy who God loves and calls his child. I know at age 1 you don't really have memories of Congo, of the orphanage, of your first family. I hope I can help you love your country, be proud of your history, and tell you about all the beauty and tragedy that exists in the place you were born. 

Maran, what a journey we have been on. Trust has been an ever changing, ever growing bond between us that takes work and effort and sacrifice and love. I remember those first days, where you would run from me, where we would wake up in the night and find you eating dry baby formula with your fingers because you didn't know if a meal was guaranteed the next day. You were a fighter from the beginning. It broke my heart to watch your skills of survival. It was a process over months and years to earn your trust to let go of your role as "mom" to Levi and trust me to be his caregiver. It was such a joy to watch you re-learn how to be a kid again, to play without worry. The hardest thing as a mom is to watch you grieve, I wish I could ease your burden. But I am so proud of the way you are relying on God through the pain and it is becoming your strength. Your joy and excitement for life challenges me to slow down and enjoy the small things. You are a servant hearted girl and I can't wait to see where God will take you in life, whether it is back to Congo to serve and love the country you came from, or working in a school, or fighting for justice as a lawyer (because you can argue with a fencepost and I am pretty sure that will take you far when harnessed for good ;), or being a mama to your own children. You will be a force for good, I just know it.

I am privileged to be called Mom to you both and it is a title I don't take lightly. I promise to hold your lives with open hands and trust your Creator to do the work he promises to do in your life. I love you with a fierce love and I can't wait to see the world changers you become. 

Happy 5 year forever family anniversary my loves,

Mom

A lesson for me in sports....

As a kid growing up, I didn't do sports. My parents more ran with the philosophy of play outside and come in for dinner or come in by dark. As I got older my parents got my sister and I into music but never sports. I joked around with my mom because she signed me up for a trial of gymnastics and apparently I loved it and the coach told my mom I had "natural talent" and should be moved up to a more rigorous class more days a week and that was the end of my gymnastics career. My parents valued good grades and kindness but not sports. So naturally, that was my bent as well. Fast forward to college, I marry the punter of the Auburn football team right after graduation. John loves all sports and everything about sports. He loves the game and the challenge, he loves the underdog stories, after all he was one. To say we were coming into parenting with different background and values on child sports was an understatement. However when I found my 18 month old repeatedly in the bathroom and kitchen sink and when her greatest joy was leaping herself out of the crib, I jokingly suggested this monkey needed to be in a sport with padded floors. So we landed in gymnastics at age 2. By the time she was four the coach saw in her that "natural talent" and suggested she move to the two days a week two hour class. I scoffed as I told John, can you believe this? A four year old going to gymnastics 4 hours a week? He challenged me, she comes alive when she does gymnastics, it builds her confidence and strength and discipline, why not? The conversation actually didn't go that easily, but I conceded and she jumped up. A few months later it was an extra day at 2 hours practice, a year later she started pre-team and jumped to 9 hours of practice a week. When Reese wasn't at practice she was flipping, cart-wheeling, and "conditioning" to build her muscles to get better. None of it was driven by us, she had a fire in her heart to get better and be the best she could at this sport she loved.

She started competing and loved it. We were driving 1-3 hours for her meets, then her practices jumped to 12 hours a week. I struggled with the decision. Honestly, I feel like the church at large downplays sports as something that takes kids away from church and family time and I felt the tension of the time she was spending at the gym. I didn't want to let my kid drive our schedule but at the same time I wanted to support her dream and love for a sport that we didn't have to do anything to foster in her. It was a continual discussion in our marriage, always coming to it from two different perspectives of what value sports held in our family. We then had to make a tough decision to leave the gym we were at that was 5 minutes from home because the competitive program ended at the age she was. The gym at that time we saw the most potential in was 40 minutes from home one way. And at the age she was her practices were now 15 hours a week in 3rd grade. Reese begged to keep going and wanted to make it work. John supported her and I was left torn thinking of driving 3 days a week down and back to drop her off and down and back 5 hours later to pick her up.We moved forward and Reese flourished. She loved the challenge of the new gym, the harder workouts, the way the coaches pushed her toward excellence. During that time, I saw something growing in her that started to change my heart on the value of sports in her life.

I saw her not getting new skills and cheering on others who were. I saw Reese come home from gym and work a skill repetitively, determined to get it. I saw her learning time management as she did her homework on the drive from school to gym and do her required reading time while she ate dinner on the way home from practice before crashing into bed. I saw her come home from practice with bloody hands or sore legs or bruised hips and saying she couldn't wait to work even harder the next practice. I saw her on vacation bringing with her a list of workouts she could do to stay in great condition while away from the gym. I saw her get bad scores at meets, tear up, and let it push her to try harder the next time. I saw her pray and ask God for help. I saw her rally around her team mates when they struggled both in or out of the gym. I saw her pray for or with other team mates who's parents were sick or splitting up. This sport which I didn't see very much value in was helping transform her in the very values we were trying to teach at home: generosity, hard work, responsibility, kindness, perseverance, and prayer. It was her breeding ground for working those things out and she did it beautifully. She has had to make hard decisions, give up some things "normal kids" can do because of her schedule, she has had to listen to criticism and take what of it she needed to get better and leave the rest alone, she has wrestled with what it feels like to work the hardest and not be the best, she has had to weigh tough choices and push her body through pain. God has started to show me he can work through non traditional ways to mold his children into who he is making them to be. It all doesn't have to be under my roof or in my "control". He has got Reese and he is using the gifts he has given her to develop her into an amazing young woman. 

I talk with Reese often about identity, I tell her, you're identity is not gymnastics, you are a child of God and one of your gifts is gymnastics. You can use that to bring God glory or yourself glory and it will sometimes be a daily decision. I told her the other day, you don't have to do gymnastics to earn acceptance, you do gymnastics from a place of acceptance, knowing God accepts and loves you for who you are not what you do, then you are freed up to live out your gifting and passions as he leads you instead of doing what you're great at to get attention and approval from others. Scores don't matter to me, scholarships don't matter to me, the heart matters. 

I am so proud to see Reese blossoming into a beautiful 10 year old. She is strong and kind and brave, she can do hard things, she knows God is with her and for her, and she knows what it feels like to be living out your passion. I pray I can continue to support her as her cheerleader and mom and keep pointing her to Jesus as she practices living out her passions before Him in this stage of life as he prepares her for the next. God has a beautiful routine planned out for her life, she has tuned her ears in to listen to her Coach and obey each command, whether she falls or does it beautifully she keeps on going: through suffering or pain or difficulty she gets back up and does it again. Jesus is teaching both of us what this adventure of following him can be like.

Season of silence

I can't believe its been so long since I have posted last. As I reflect on these last 6-12 months of my life, I feel like God put me in a season of silence while he worked on my growth. It was a time of refining and struggle and revealing and the attempt at ceasing striving and trying to rest in His wisdom and peace. God worked in tough relationships and hard situations over the past year showing me more of my own sin and drawing me closer to him in a way I wouldn't choose.

Through parenting challenges, relationship struggles, challenging forgiveness, death and loss, I found a season where I didn't know what to say or do.  God showed me so many things about myself through wise counsel and repeated struggle.
One thing continually revealed was my striving.  I put in the actions and methods and check the boxes and then I wait for the results. If the results don't happen I feel like I have failed or the person on the other side has failed me. I realized I don't even really know how not to strive. I didn't grow up in a home that overtly taught striving, but I think the undertone of my understanding of life was to do my best, be the best, say the right things, be a good girl, behave, be a good friend, do great things for God. This gets exhausting and in the end my motives boil down to self reliance, performing, and fear of not having control. So God, in his strange mercy, reminded me again of my struggle and brought me to another layer in the process of healing. I don't think I'll ever be "cured" or overcome this completely, I instead think it is the thorn in my side reminding me of my need and dependence for him. It reminds me of my limitation and weakness, because only then I can find and rely on his power.

I have a sweet and wise counselor in my life who told me :

"The lie you are believing is that your 'doing' will ensure your kids future". 

Truth that hit me right at my core. I want a good future for my kids. Not the health and wealth stuff, but for them to be kind, make good decisions, have deep friendships, know and love Jesus, serve God with their talents, be in healthy, loving marriages.  But, that lie propels me to do more, read more to them, point them to Jesus, pray with and for them more, memorize more scripture together, discipline better, pour out more to my kids.  While these are all good things, I was striving and relying on my performance to ensure my kids knowing and loving Jesus. I was putting too much weight in my methods and then frustrated when I didn't get the results.  When they messed up, I felt like I had just not done enough to teach or prepare them. When they succeeded I had a brief feeling of victory before writing more things on the mom-to-do list to ensure even better choices in the future. Again, completely exhausting. I am all for pointing my kids to Jesus, yes, very much so, but my performing and striving is not the path to get them there. Jonah 2:9 says Salvation belongs to the Lord, but my actions sure said Salvation and a good future belong to my efforts. 

I've found it's an ebb and flow of striving and then realizing I'm doing it in my own strength and resting in Him, then back to my default of performing and then wearing out and realizing I need him to lead. I would hope after this many years it would be less of a rotation but none the less He reminds me I do need him EVERY minute of every day. I think our adoption and parenting kids from traumatic backgrounds only amplified and exposed this in me even more, but it had always been there from the start. 

Thanks to my friend Macon at @writtenontablets for my art!

So I guess all that to say, I'm glad to be back. I'm hopeful to not ever show I have it all together, or am a great mom or wife to be emulated, not the case. But that He Is Enough, Wise, sufficient, and an adventurer worth following. He has it all together so I don't have to. He holds salvation and a future in his hands so I don't have to. He is great and perfect and wise and I get to tuck into his side and claim all that in Him and not on my own. He definitely speaks to me as I pour out words on this screen and reminds me of who I am and who I am not, who I was created to be and what I was not made to carry, what I was created for and not a life of performance. I hope today you are reminded that you don't have to be it all, do it all, say it all, know it all, but that you have a savior who wants to hold you together as you lean into him and fall time and time again as you press forward in what and who He has called you to. 

Stories of Death to Life, Magdalene, Grace and Jen

There was a day in the trip where we did a few home visits of clients from other centers. We got to see a client in the first phase of the program, the middle phase, and a graduate who had finished the program over a year ago... please read their stories below. I pray you find in them, strength, encouragement, conviction, and hope. Please pray for these amazing women and the journey God has them on!

Magdalene

We walked in the small 8x10 corrugated metal home that was big enough to house a bed, couch, TV and small table. It was the first time in the trip I smelled the stench of death and sickness so intensely. I prayed God would give me the strength to engage fully. On the side of the bed sat Magdalene, a frail soft woman under 100 pounds who struggled to swallow and breathe.  At first she would not make eye contact and just sat slumped with her head down. We started to talk and ask questions and she began to share, with each passing story her gaze was more frequent in our eyes, her tone strengthened and even her words became stronger with each passing sentence. Magdalene had to be between 24-30 years old, it was hard to tell in her condition. She had been working in a factory, pregnant, and realized she was becoming more and more ill. 

One day she passed out at work and was taken to the hospital. At the hospital she was given a test and diagnosed as HIV+. She was so ashamed of her status and feared the shunning that would come from her community. She withdrew until she birthed her child and became bedridden thereafter. Her neighbor, Grace came to visit her and told her about the Care for Aids program. The 9 months was already underway, but Grace knew Magdalene wouldn't make it to see the start of another program. She got her enrolled. A neighbor was caring for Magdalene's new baby as she couldn't get herself out of bed. Once she started the program and started on her medicine with food supplements, she could walk again with help. The spiritual counselor, Matthew, who was with us, said he would walk with Magdalene as she leaned on him. He said she couldn't even carry a 1 kilogram bag of rice, when wind blew she would stumble down. Now over a month into the program, she was getting treatment for tuberculosis and getting stronger. We asked Magdalene how we could pray for her and she said first- strength in her body so she can care for her son again. Her next request floored me as she said it through difficulty talking, she asked us to pray for strength in her body and soul because she needs to minister to others with AIDS. She continued on how there are so many like her that just need to hear, they need a helping hand to make it to this program. She said, "I knew of God before I found Care for AIDS, but I did not meet Jesus so closely until now." Magdalene's story shook me. I have never seen a person so close to death from HIV. Magdalene truly would not have lived much longer. Also such a powerful display of community, without Grace who was already started in CFA, coming into her home and physically taking her, she would not be here. She would not be able to raise her baby. She would not know Jesus as the source of her healing and strength. I know God will answer Magdalene's selfless prayers, she will be healed and be a blessing to others and her son will grow up with his mother by his side. Magdalene's story is one of life, healing, help and hope.

Grace's story
Grace came to the van to meet us, next to her was a sweet and shining face she introduced as Josephine. They walked us to Grace's front door and Josephine went back to braiding her client's hair who was sitting outside the home. 

Grace had a strong smile, a tight hug, and a joy in her face.  But as she told us her story, Grace had had an impossible year. Her only son had recently died after being struck by a car. Her sickness was getting worse, so she spent a year, isolating herself, fearing it would be HIV and she did not want to be outcasted so she kept quiet and didn't get tested. She didn't even tell her best friend Josephine, who lived next door. Finally, she got so weak she feared she was dying. She asked Josephine to take her to the hospital. She knew she needed to get tested but feared she would lose her best friend Josephine's acceptance. Josephine said "well then I will get tested with you." Grace's fears were true, she was positive. After she heard Josephine tested negative she knew their friendship would be over, but she told this part of the story with such joy "You know, Josephine embraced me even more now knowing my status!" She heard about the Care for Aids program through their local church and got started right away. As she was talking to us, she grabbed her pill bottle of ARV medication and shook it and said to us "I am not afraid anymore, these are mine. My name is on this bottle. I don't care who knows." What a powerful display of overcoming her own self-stigma. When we met Grace she was only in month 4 of the 9 month program, but she had already learned to accept and love herself despite her status. A few months earlier she had been isolated for a year, too afraid to even get tested because of fear, now here she is full of joy shaking her pill bottle proudly. This is also the Grace who introduced Magdalene to the program. She is radically changing the face of AIDS in her community. She chatted on about learning to make a cake in the program in one of the skills training. She told us how they would heat firewood to heat sand in a bowl and put all the ingredients in a different bowl and cook it on the heated sand. She couldn't wait to sell her cakes. Grace is a story of the power of community, breaking the chains of self stigma, and physically and spiritually loving your neighbors as yourself. As I looked at Grace, I realized I was the one in poverty. I lacked this beautiful picture of community that she has. In America, we don't need to depend on others for our very lives sometimes, we also rarely reach out to our neighbors, draw them in, tell them they are loved, and walk with them side by side through trials and joys. Grace moved me. 

The story of Jen
I was curious of what meeting Jen would be like. She had graduated the Care for Aids program almost a year and a half previous. Her house was a modest wooden shed type in the hills near Limuru. As we hiked up the terrain to get to her home we passed a wood slatted outhouse and six chickens and a young cow. Jen arrived a few minutes later, her smile beaming from the back of a motorcycle taxi. She quickly ran up the hill to us and greeted us each with a huge hug and high fives. She unlocked the padlock on her home and invited us in. Inside she awoke her two 1 year old twins and sent them out to us. Chickens roamed in the house as she settled herself and us around the couches in the main room of the home. She talked of being on her deathbed a few months before the program. She had found out her HIV diagnosis and her husband left her with 3 children because of it. Now her source of income was gone. Time passed as her condition worsened and times grew desperate and then she heard from her husband again. He explained how he wanted to get back together and rebuild, however she was used for his advantage for a night and she became pregnant with twins.Through the 9 month program she learned skills of how to take her medicine, how to raise chickens, how to be a part of a community again, how to find strength in the most hopeless of situations and how to find strength in Jesus. In her words, Jen explained that through all she learned through CFA "God has taken me from Dust to a palace" as she talked of being bedridden before and now raising chickens, selling potatoes and providing for her family as a single mom of 5 children aged 1-15. We asked her connection with CFA currently and she said "I am now courageous to tell people my status because If they don't know from me how will they know how to heal?" 
She goes back frequently to empowerment sessions in the program and teaches other clients how to raise chickens for eggs and income. She also invites others to embrace their status instead of fearing stigma. She shows them her strength and the success and life hat still remains after an AIDS diagnosis. As we sat around the small living quarters, she beamed as any mother would as she told us about how one of her sons has been ranked 1st in his class for 6 years. Potentially beating the odds of coming from a single AIDS infected mother in poverty. You could see the hope she had in her son. A cycle of poverty that would stop in her children. Her smile and positivity was so inspiring. Her spouting of scripture and the source of where she draws her strength was encouraging. She sent us away, having filled our cups with her joy and strength. It was a privilege to have met Jen, to see how she has risen above a statistic. She has become a beacon of hope in her community. It is such a privilege for our family to see people like Jen, that Jesus brought from literal death to life through the program of Care for AIDS.

Kenya downloading

It is hard to take a 12 day trip and boil it down into a one concise page description. So many people ask, 'how was your trip?' as if i could shorten it down into a 30 second sound byte of our experience. And as I process "how was my trip" I realize it is more about the people I met and the stories they shared rather than my "experience" in

Kenya...these precious Kenyan people that asked me to return to America and share their story. So I will. As weeks go on I want to share with you the stories of death to life, strength in turmoil, and beauty from ashes. The temptation is to overlook someone's story because it is such a foreign comparison to our own, but then we all miss out on the experience of Kenya and the way God is moving there. And in my own way, I did find my own story wrapped somehow inside of theirs, a single mom of 5 in the slums, a woman who is an overcomer of her HIV status, a man who went against his family history in Islam and found Jesus as a boy on the streets. Somewhere tucked deep inside I saw myself in each person, or someone I want to be. Africa has a way of resetting my heart on what is important. I have truly experienced the joy of the verse in Matthew 6:21, For where you treasure is, there your heart will be also. It is hard to explain how my heart came alive as I looked around a room of 90 graduates, raising their Bibles and journals in the air and waving them with accomplishment, pride, and triumph. I run the risk of you thinking it is because of our family or community, which it is not. God would have brought this center to life with or without our involvement, but I wouldn't have gotten to see it play out. God didn't need me to do this, I got to be a part. For those of you who faithfully gave to our center in Sinai, thank you, and please read on in the coming weeks and hear about the lives transformed and community impacted. As I looked around that room on graduation day and I saw so many children running in and out of their parents legs, sleeping on chairs next to their mothers, or babies wrapped around their mama's backs, I thought of what their future would have been if their parents would have continued down the dark path of death that AIDS usually brings in their community.

These kids now have moms and parents strengthened in the word of God, strengthened in their health, and empowered with a skill that will bring income to their family.  We sat in the homes of these graduates and heard about their excitement to be selling soap, peanut butter, beaded items, eggs, charcoal, etc. All skills they never had before, now they are sending their kids to school with their income. My words do not do this transformation justice.
When we go to Kenya, it is not a "short term mission trip". We have no project, no building to build, no well to dig. We go to be present, to show someone they have value, to hold a hand, to be a friend.

"Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody. 
I think that is a much greater hunger, 
a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat."   Mother Theresa

Our schedule while we were there revolved around being. Being with people in their homes, people who previously have been shunned from their families and communities. Homes that have been marked with an invisible red X to their neighbors not to enter because of fear of AIDS. We go and hold hands and pray for people, people that their spouses no longer want to touch because it has become a blame game of who gave it to who. These were the favorite moments of my trip, which I will expand in more detail in days to come. Jesus meets you face to face when you enter in to someones pain, when you hold the hand of a diseased woman He has brought to life. These are the most beautiful moments.

 

Dear John (a decade of love, struggle and triumph)

Dear John,

I decided to forgo a silly anniversary card that over-optimizes marriage or over simplifies all we have worked at and overcome and fails to mention all God has done between us. Plus, since you know me well, you know I am too wordy to fit what I want to say on a 5x7 card.
10 years, as of today, I have been officially married to you for a third of my life. When I look back at my 20 year old self, having graduated a month prior (by taking two 22 hour semesters to be able to graduate with you;), I thought I knew what marriage was and thought how much I loved you would carry us through any struggle, but I also had a few fears walking down that aisle of what the future would look like when we got to year 5, 7, 10, 25, 35. 

I remember sitting in a chair at Northpoint Community church, hearing marriage is not a contract but a covenant, not an "I'll serve you if you serve me" but being the actual tangible hands and words of Jesus to your spouse. I remember feeling the weight and privilege of what we were entering into. 

People say that when people as young as we were get married they don't know what they're getting into. I've heard people use this as a cop out of marriage 5, 10, 20 years later. We didn't know what we were doing. Obviously...no one does.  We sought counsel and made the wisest decision we could understanding the commitment as much as we were capable.  But, just as if you parent your first child at 22 or 32 or 42, you don't know what you're getting into, because you have never parented a child before. Same as walking down that aisle. Yes, we were so young. But we committed to our God, a choice, a vow and the unknown. We never knew what life would hold for us, but we committed to each other and a love and a God we knew was bigger than any circumstance we would face. 

10 years later, my wildest dreams have been imagined and I've also felt deeper pain than I ever imagined. That's just part of it when entering into life with another flawed human being. If you would have told me at age 20, walking down that aisle, that 10 short years later we would have 4 kids age 3-8, been through 6 moves, 3 churches, an international adoption, 5 international trips with our kids, a ministry partnership in Kenya, counseling, 2 restaurants, and a whole lot of ups and downs I would have laughed in your face! It has been quite the adventure and I cannot imagine what the next 10 holds. 

As we have watched marriages crumble around us, it has brought an ever-present reality to mind. We are not "immune" to struggle, separation, sin. Sure we have done our best to put protective boundaries in place, sought counsel when we have hit hard times, prioritized date nights, been in small groups, gotten away several times a year together without kids. Those have all been crucial in protecting and building upon our covenant. But Satan is still out for us. No amount of boundaries can protect us from that, only the strong power of Jesus. I was talking to Reese in the car a few days ago explaining what separation and divorce are. I told her about how God gives us guidelines and boundaries not to keep us confined, but to protect our hearts and protect us from the damaging consequences of sin. Same for marriage, he has made this beautiful union that can be an amazing, hard, beautiful adventure if we stay within the guidelines he has given us. Just like the CS Lewis illustration of the fish who always dreamed of living outside of the confines of water, until one day he lept out of the "cage" that had been holding him captive only to realize that pleasure was fleeting, and outside his home was only death. He was designed to be in the water, it is not a confine but a boundary to where he can live abundantly. When we step outside those confines, there is hurt, brokenness and sin. We will still sin and have hurt inside our marriage, but nothing like the brokenness that happens outside. So I explained to her, Daddy and I have agreed to choose God's way over our own, even when things get hard and messy. And this is why I try to instill in our kids a heart that loves God's word and way, and to grow their will that can make the right choice in the hardest of circumstance. I hope our home is a breeding ground of small choices will bear fruit into a person who commits to God's way when the storms come. Reese asked, "so why doesn't everyone else just decide to obey God instead of hurt their wife or husband and break that apart?". Self and sin and Satan's lies are a powerful deterrent from the choice we all make at the altar of our marriage. I pray you and I continue to arm ourselves to daily fight that battle.
John, it is so freeing to know your struggles, to know where you continually disappoint yourself and me, to know what makes you tick, to know what you're gifted at; and that you know me all the same. One of my fears in walking down that aisle was that the glitter would soon wear off our relationship and it would no longer be anything to look forward to, there would be nothing else to learn about each other.  What if I wasn't excited to see you come home anymore or get butterflies to see your name ringing on my phone?  I was afraid the excitement of dating would wear off and leave me with a boring relationship. That was one of my biggest fears, but where some of the glitter has faded, security, sacrificial love, transparency, vulnerability and fun has risen in a larger way. There is a safety that comes when you know someone so deeply and you are known deeply by them and accepted. There is a deepness in our bond of friendship that is so comforting.  That beats all the first date feelings to pieces. Because when we are holding hands as we watch a grandparent take their last breath, when we are up until 2 am with friends going through separation, or when our child comes home in tears over a lie they've told, we don't need the butterfly, fleeting flirtatious relationship, we need a rock and shield and a partner who knows you through and through and is ready to go into battle with you. And I am honored to be your battle partner.
I am so proud of the man you are becoming. A man who treats me with gentleness and tenderness, a man who loves our children well, a man who is concerned by those in need, a man who desires to love and know God more deeply, a man who conducts his business with integrity and care, a man who pours into others, a man who loves to give generously, who forgives abundantly, a man who loves to go to the broken places in the world, and a man who can serve well. Your humility is one of my favorite traits of yours. Never do you use your position to put someone down or sit on the sidelines and watch others do the hard work. You have a team mentality; if there is a problem what have we done to get it here? If there is success, you put it back on the team, not yourself. That is present in our family and your business and I think that is why you are successful at both. You lead with wisdom, kindness and a servant heart and thats why you are a leader so many want to follow, including me.
But even on the days when you are not so easy to love; when you're home late, when you don't give me the input I desire in communication, when you disengage or even watch golf on a sunday ;), even then I love you, I respect you, I choose you. In the midst of your faults, I see who you are becoming still and I want to love you into that man. You were created as a fun, wild, tender, courageous warrior and I have the privilege of being a part of your story and that is one of the greatest gifts to me outside of my salvation. 

So 10 years in, I am still here, not because you are worth it, but because He is, not because I deserve happiness, but because Jesus deserves my ultimate devotion and commitment. 10 years from now, Lord willing, I will still be here, loving you when you don't earn it and humbling myself when I mess up time and time again. You are mine and I am yours.
Happy 10 year anniversary my love,

To Reese on her 8th Birthday...

Reese,
Its hard to believe it's already been a year since sitting down and writing this post.  7 was a magical year of new maturity, conversations, closeness, and challenge. 2nd grade was a breeding ground for growth and social learnings. This year especially I would say was one of the most enjoyable to be your mom.  No longer do you need me to help you pick out clothes (when I try you make sure it is known you can do it on your own:), get you a snack, tie your shoes.  The physical demand of being a young child's mom is lessening as each year passes with you. Yet a new level to the emotional and deeper spiritual journey has begun.
This year your deepened in your faith. Last year began a big year of talking about what God is doing in your life, the brokenness of the world, the savior that came to rescue us, how God is uniquely calling us to run to the hurting and the hungry, the sick and the orphaned. I can say that Kenya changed you. It put a God sized desire in your heart to be with the broken. Ever since our adoption, but maybe even more so, that trip, you are keenly aware of others feelings and needs. God urges your heart to pray, you are emotionally tied to Africa already in a way my heart only had hints of as a girl. Your faith is becoming your own and it is a joy to watch that grow.
This year you really flourished at school and bonded with your teacher. In a public school, in a liberal city, it was not a question for us you would remain at your school indefinitely. You, little light, are someone God wants to use to point others to him, to surprise people with your kindness and different way of thinking, and to challenge people to look to him. All year long you would talk with your teacher about your faith in different ways. What you are praying for, what you saw God do in Kenya, how He is a huge part of your life. The last day of school your teacher pulled you out and had lunch with just you in your classroom to pour into your life just a little more on your way out, and she told you how much she noticed your light shining. She wrote you a note to encourage you to keep shining, keep praying, keep sharing to others about Him, keep loving others well. It was one of the best moments I have seen for you in school. It was such an affirmation that you are a little arrow, like Psalm 127 says, ready to launch out and pierce the enemy for His good. I am so proud to be your mom. Your boldness and big heart inspire me to live on purpose.

This year you have developed in gymnastics. Something you love so much and you feel God's blessings as you do what he has gifted you to do. You are developing a community of girls that is precious. To see you circle up at the end of practice and share prayer requests and pray with your coach is amazing. To watch as you learn what hard work, persistence, perseverance and even how prayer can impact your abilities and results. I watch as you encourage others when they are having trouble to get something and as you pray through and seek help when you struggle with something. I continually remind you to anchor your identity in Him, you are not a Gymnast, you are a daughter of God who he has blessed with an amazing talent in gymnastics. It is a platform, not an identity. And it has been an amazing learning and growth opportunity for your relationships and character.
This year you have grown as a Big sister. You have released a little bit of the pressure to perform that you often default to and are growing into your own on learning how to mess up gracefully, ask forgiveness, talk with me about how to pray for transformation and strength in the midst of sin. You know you are not responsible to be everyone's example. You are just a girl that will mess up and seek Jesus like anyone else. But yet you are deeply moved when you hurt your siblings. You feel deeply as you have shared in the grief of your sister's story. Life's struggles with siblings are pointing you to your perfect Father and I pray you can see beyond your imperfect mom to see Him more clearly.
I have messed up over and over again with you. The amount of times I've said I am sorry for my sin to you does not even cover the countless times I've missed that opportunity. This year, it will continue. But I ask with the boldness in James 1:5 for God to give me wisdom, and to give it in abundance, on how to be your mom and steward the life in you I have been given to hold loosely for Him. My prayer goes back to that little arrow in Psalm 127 that will be released over and over again into different situations to pierce with kindness and with truth places where it is missing. This year will bring new challenges at school, with friends and influences mounting and the struggle of identity and self esteem on the horizon. I pray you are anchored in the one who made you, just how he wanted you, with a part to play in His huge story. My prayers are too much to list for you for this year, but know you are fiercely loved, known deeply, accepted fully, and prayed over frequently! I am honored God chose me to be your mom!

Be a part of something bigger, Part 2

Ok if your day has gone anything like my day so far, your kids woke you up early, spilled their cereal, went to the bathroom on the floor, someone ended up needing to go to the doctor, a grocery store run was a must, dinner made its way in the crockpot, and two different school pickups are about to ensure as I scramble to clean my house for a playdate. These are all fine things, but when this is what every day looks like for me I get bogged down, purposeless, defeated. Don't get me wrong, being a stay at home mom is a gift and a privilege I don't take lightly. But sometimes as women I think we settle in for the mundane because it is a LOT and "has" to be done.
I think there is more. I know there is. There has to be.
Ok, so hopefully you have read part 1 to know the back story. Now on to what is coming next. It's big. It's scary. I can't do it without God. And that is not my daily life. I can sometimes get by without "depending desperately" on him to come through. But not here. Not on this. This is God sized.

We are launching a new Care for Aids center. This will serve 90 people for 9 months until another group of 90 begins for 9 months and then another group of 90...until AIDS is eradicated in that community (It has happened before! 18 centers exist, 3000 graduates, 1000 families currently in the program, 888 lives dedicated to Christ through it!)  It will run through a local church in a village, area, or slum that has been identified as a high risk need for AIDS intervention. The face of this center is all Kenyan. It will be run as if done by the local church, so some American doesn't go in as the face of wealth saving a community and bringing health and hope. No, this is done through the local Kenyan church, empowering it to live and serve the untouchables of its own community. But it requires backing. 24,000$ to launch a new center. Gulp.

We are in. All in. God is going to do it.

Stop right here and throw out any guilt-ridden feelings you have because this task should not induce that. If it does, stop reading and don't think about it again unless God brings it up in your heart. But, if something about this excites you read on, if you- like me- are ready to trade in the mundane for the wild and get your crew on board, then lets go.
We all have extra, we live in excess. We don't think we have extra money, time, or gifts but we do. We have churches, small groups, kids, closets full of clothes, influence, gifts God has given us that are going unused.
What if we cashed in together? We were at first going to do this on our own but God said no. Then as I've written part 1 and already gotten texts, messages and calls from people on how to get involved, I even thought, what if God funds two centers through this? Insane.

Watch this video and see a family transformed by a center and program just like we can be a part of!

I've included ideas below if you are going to jump in with your family. Talk to your spouse, pray about it, bring it up in your small group, pray about it with your kids.  John and I are committed to the full amount, whether we raise it, pay it, sell stuff to get it, whatever, God is going to do it. I know it. But what if you are supposed to be a part? What would so many people miss out on if we just kept this to ourselves and did it quietly and alone? So many people wouldn't get to be on mission with what God is doing, see the struggles and the triumph, be a part of thousands of lives changed. I pray you'll join us if God so leads.
Here are a few practical ideas:
1. Yard sale- get the kids involved. Talk about how many people around the world have no toys, no extra outfit, no bucket full of shoes. Kids are great at putting stickers on things, it is a beautiful activity as a family to purge, downsize your closet and toy box, and do it with a purpose behind it. Donate the proceeds to get this center off the ground. 90 families will immediately be impacted. A community will change. A church will be the feet of Jesus in a new way.

2. Rice and beans nights- we did this every tuesday night for a season of time. It was a time to focus on what others lived off of (namely our son and daughter at that time). We would forgo going out one night and donate that nights dinner cost to a higher purpose. We would set aside 25$ that we would have spent on dinner for that night, thats 100$ a month, 1200$ a year. It focused our prayers and discussion that night of dinner, it got our kids excited about what might happen with that money. It wasn't always roses, there were whiney nights where they were sick of it and didn't want rice again. But sometimes the beauty comes in the "suffering". The sacrifice draws out the value.
3. Small group involvement- (watch out if you are in my group text circles or small group... its coming) what if our small groups got on board? What if we did life together in a new way? What if we came around a purpose together instead of just meeting each week to talk about how to be more like Jesus and we actually did something? Some groups do this really well. Some need direction. Pray about how you could leverage the families in your community. One small group I heard of delivered ziploc bags of rice to neighborhood homes nearby and had a note to "An invitation to 'not eat' dinner with us tonight" and eat how a family in Kenya would eat and then donate a suggested gift of 20$+ to Care for Aids. Opportunities are limitless.
4. Writing letters- if you have kids 3-16+ you can do this as a family. We use the verse "Encourage one another daily as long as it is called today" Memorize it with your kids, and do an activity together to encourage the people of this center and community that are about to enter in to a 9 month overhaul of their health, marriage, spiritual lives, family, learn a new trade, etc. Have your kids draw them pictures, encouraging verses, use stickers, paint whatever. Mail them to me (email me on tab on left for address) and I will get them to Kenya for you! This is a great way to involve our kids in the mission of lifting others up, living out humility and service, and brightening someone's day!
5. Lemonade sale, bake sale, sell African jewelry, etc- Make your community aware, let your kids get some experience in entrepreneurship, ours loved it. They had to take out a "business loan" from us to buy the supplies and make signs and use their kind words and invite customers in. It was a blast!
6. Give as a family- put out a jar as a family. Let the kids do extra chores to fill it up, when you catch your kids doing something kind put money in the jar, let them see you put money in the jar, make verbal choices in front of your kids to forgo something you wanted (coffee, coke, milkshake, getting nails done, whatever) and put that into the jar. See what you come up with at the end of a week, a month, etc.
7. Forward this on- send these two posts to people you know would like to be involved! We all have tons of friends who want to do something for the least of these.
8. GO- see for yourself what is going on over there. Expose your kids, your parents, your friends to this ministry and see how they work on a day to day basis. Stretch your family in a huge way to experience God where he told you he could be found, with the hungry, the sick, the diseased. I hope also we can get a group together for the first graduation from our center and see the first 90 lives changed because a community said Yes to God's prompting.

Now I am not Miss creative so I am sure there are 100 cute ideas to get your kids involved and get on board as a family on this with us. I would love to have you join. Comment with more ideas. Email me and let me know how it is going or if you want to get involved!
Then I pray one day that some of you may go and visit the center you helped plant. I pray you take your kids and say "Look, this is it, this is what God can do when we say yes and give, he gives more, he opens the floodgates, he changes families and saves lives half way around the world because we said yes".  I pray you see the life change that happened from getting on mission as a family, exposing your kids to what can happen when we give God our anything, our gifts, and our hearts. Think of the ripple effect, 90 families, 90 marriages saved, 180 adults presented with Jesus, most likely 180-360 orphans prevented, every nine months, because one center began.

If you are ready to jump in, your giving can go to this link for our center.
John and I are matching all donations 100% until at least one center is funded. We can not wait to see what happens, what God does in your hearts, your stories, your families, your kids hearts. I've already heard stories, gotten texts of already God moments and miracles, this is going to be amazing y'all.
God is huge, we rarely tap into his power and what he wants to unleash in our lives if we just say yes with what he has given us. I think the floodgates just may open...