Teach my song to rise to you

All of the sudden I feel this tremendous weight when thinking about what it means to parent.

Up until recently, my main concerns in the parenting of our son included the following sorts of things: deciding on what sleep method to use. What to feed our son and at what age we should introduce these foods? Should I say “no”, redirect him or do something in between? How do we transition to one nap? Or even things I’m less proud of, such as, did I emotionally damage my son today when I yelled out the window, “Why don’t you just pass me dumb ass”? ...  not a proud mommy moment.

There seems to be endless things to think about when parenting and if that’s not bad enough, everyone seems to have a different method that seems to have research that proves they are right. It could truly drive you crazy. But more than this, something else has been weighing heavily.

I’m noticing that my son watches us. He learned how to put the laundry in the machine without us teaching him. He began “watering” our potted plants one by one after he watched me do so. When his dad was cutting down a massive tree/weed in the backyard, he picked up the branches one at a time to bring them over to the wood pile which he just saw his dad do. He’s watching us. He’s learning how to interact with his world based on the way we are interacting with ours. 

Yikes.

I can’t help but think about what kind of person my boy will become. Not just if he’ll become a musician, or a lawyer, or if he’ll be a photographer like his dad. But what kind of life he will lead. What kind of person he will be. Will he really love and search to know his maker? Will he show compassion to those around him? Will he make peace with those who are hard to love?

I think I have all too often forgotten the day to day impact we have on the people around us, particularly our children. What a huge and awesome burden.

Teach my song to rise to you. And when I cannot stand, I’ll fall on you. Jesus you’re my hope and stay – Matt Maher

Documentation. You are ONE years old.

I don't really know how it happened, but somehow you became a little boy right in front of our eyes.

I was letting you watch Sesame Street this morning (I know, babies aren't supposed to watch t.v., but 5:30 wake up calls are getting rough). There was this little boy learning how to ride his bike without training wheels for the first time. When his dad let go and he rode all on his own, my eyes filled up with tears as I was thinking about the day that we get to do this with you and how incredibly special it will be.

Everyone always says it, "time goes so fast", and now I know, they are more right than ever. Look at these pictures of you... seriously... how did this happen?

You have the best laugh. You love to be tickled and when we laugh with you, you laugh even harder. One morning (at 5:30 again) I was letting you play with my kindle. You like to open and close the magnetic screen, turning it off and on. This morning in particular, you figured out how to slide the lock button over. I started to laugh saying "uh-oh, that's not good". Then you started to laugh, causing a chain reaction of laughter. Now, every time you open my kindle case and see the lock screen, you laugh, crinkle your nose and look at me, thinking there is something incredibly hilarious about it. You're right. Now there is.


The happenings of this one year old:

• You love little to medium sized dogs. You like to say "hi, hi, hi, hi, hi".
• You love when "Uncle" David tickles you under your arm, making a "zzzzzuupppp" sound.
• You now say "hi" when someone walks into a room.
• You laugh when your dad and I laugh. You also laugh when I get upset and make grunting type noises. It actually works out pretty great because it makes me laugh and forget what I was upset about. 
• You are cruising all over the place, which means you're walking while balancing on things, like the couch or the wall. Your dad and I have a bet going on when you will start walking. My prediction is July 17th, your dad's is July 23rd. If you can shoot for the 17th, that'd be great! You're also pushing a little cart toy that we have around the house. You're so proud of yourself. We are too!
• You love to go outside and go for walks. You observe everything around you and like to say hi to any animals we see.
• You are clapping and mimicking some sign language. I get pretty excited when you do it.
• You continue to make all sorts of sounds and are a chatty little thing.
• You still love cheese and I think strawberries are your new favorite fruit. You chowed down on my homemade pasta salad we had last night.

Basically, you are the most perfect fit for your dad and I. You add so much laughter and joy to our family. I hope that we always make you feel like you are loved for exactly who you are because exactly who you are is so great!

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY big boy! We are so excited for this next year with you.

Documentation. The process of documenting [my] knowledge [of you]

April 6, 2013

My sweet, sweet boy. You are now almost 10 months and I cannot express how wonderful it has been to be your mom. You are now crawling and getting into everything. You LOVE electrical cords and outlets and will do anything to get to them. You understand “no”, I know this in that you stop playing quickly and look at me each time I say it, but you continue to play with the dangerous things nonetheless. You are saying “mama”, “dada”, “nana”, “papa” and “baba” and sometimes you stumble on some other sounds. I’m pretty sure you even know to call me “mama” and your dad, “dada”. You just started becoming a mamma’s boy. When I leave the room as of recent, you either cry or start crawling after me quickly calling “mama, mama, mama…”. You are precious.

You have a fantastic smile which is almost always filled with such excitement. You have loved, every since you could sit up, reading your books with us. You flap your arms in excitement and make great noises. It’s almost like each page is filled with the excitement of 10 songs. You now, love to be thrown on the bed or couch and love to be chased and thrown down. You even have started to throw yourself down on the couch, laughing hysterically while you do it. You like mimicking and love to stick your tongue out and make farting noises. You can pick up little finger foods and put them in your mouth. You like cheese a lot.

Truly, you have filled our lives with so much joy. Everyone who meets you tell us the same. Yesterday I was at the grocery store with you. You were sitting in the cart with your legs propped up on the cart handle making noises, “baba-baba” and the woman checking us out said, “I wish I could give you a cute baby discount”. She wouldn’t let us leave before I knew how cute you really were. Little did she know, I already know and believe the same myself.

Please know, it is never your job to make us happy but you have given us a more complete version of joy than we have ever experienced. You are a perfect gift to us. I love you so so much.

I sing this song to you a lot and you like it:

“You are so beautiful to me. You are so beautiful to me. Can’t you see? You’re everything I’ve ever hoped for. You’re everything I need. You are so beautiful, to me.”

Here's the original song... a classic.

Being sad

In a past post, I referred to going through a difficult time in my family. This difficulty was dealing with the emotions and physical recovery of a miscarriage.

Grief. Whether it be losing a loved one too soon, losing an opportunity, losing the idea of something we’ve always hoped for. Whatever it is…it’s not fair. I’ve always tried to make people feel better about their personal sadness or try to rationalize why they may be going through it. Until it happened to me.

My parents lost a child before having me and my twin sister. With the sadness experienced by going through something like that, my mom asked me how I was doing after our miscarriage. Although some time had passed, the wound was still sore. I answered by talking about losing a baby and then quickly realized that my parents actually lost a baby, a fully formed, breathing and beautiful little two day old boy. They had his nursery ready, little onesies washed and ready to fit his perfect little body, a bed fitted with new and clean smelling sheets. And they didn’t get to bring him home. When I realized what I was saying, that I was grieving over the idea of having a baby, I felt guilty. I started to say things like, “I know it’s nothing like losing a baby, like you did with Michael…” My mom quickly stopped me and said “No, it’s the same. You lost the dream of having a baby. You thought about bringing your baby home and thought about what your family would be like”. It was then that I realized that grief is grief. Sadness is sadness. Whatever level of sadness we attach to someone’s pain is completely and utterly unfair. It was within my right to feel sad, without feeling any guilt that someone else’s pain is more painful than my own.

What I’ve learned through this is, I’m not going to rationalize why we were not given the opportunity to have that baby. I’m not going to say that we now have a beautiful baby boy, Emery Michael, and because we lost our first, we now have Emery. I’m not going to do that. I know that we live in a world that is fallen. Things happen that should never happen. And because of this, it is okay to be sad. That’s it. Sad. With no rationalization.

This is part of an email that I wrote to my dad several months after our miscarriage:

I think I experienced my first opportunity of healing the other day. I haven't been angry or as sad, like I was in the beginning, but it felt like some real healing. Let me preface this with saying that after experiencing this, I now would never say to anyone in their time of hurting, that maybe God will use this as an opportunity to help someone else in their time of need, but that is what happened. Because no matter what you believe, it never truly feels like God's good when you are in a hurtful situation that you don't understand. Despite that, a friend of mine has been trying to get pregnant for a long time and is feeling very discouraged and deeply sad about the situation; having a hard time rejoicing in any of God's goodness because this is clouding her mind. I felt that way for a while after we had our miscarriage. I didn't really know I was feeling that way while going through it, but I distinctly remember feeling feelings of happiness again, talking to people because I wanted to and not because I had to, praying again. I remember coming out of this "cloud". All this to say, being able to know just a glimpse of the pain that my friend was going through and express some of that to her, was, I think helpful for her and a little healing for me. It was nice to have some healing.

Grieve, and someday move into awesome periods of joy, but always be sad that something completely unfair and less than perfect happened.

My awesome period of joy...

some of my most favorite moments - a Thanksgiving tribute

I can't sleep tonight, which is pretty abnormal given my intense passion to be sleeping. It all started with analyzing the cracks on the ceiling in our bedroom and wondering when the roof might cave in on us..... to..... thinking about my most favorite moments:

So, here they are:
a good cup of coffee with just the right amount of flavored cream

impromptu dancing in the living room with my husband

when you get into the groove of running and it becomes easier, particularly, the moment it becomes easier

brunch with two of the loveliest people: Georgia and Lolly

laughing

when despite the fact that she has a baby and a husband and works a full day, my sister will still answer the phone when I call in the evenings, go in her room, close the door and spend time talking (usually listening) with me about nothing and everything for an hour

praying, in the quiet, on my way to work, while driving toward the mountains

happy hour with GSSW girls

when my nephew makes that noise he makes when I'm chasing him, the 8 month old baby crawl away quickly noise because someone crazy is chasing me

when my husband humors me at 3:00am while I'm poking him asking if he'd like to go play or take a walk. he said "no" but was, nonetheless, his charming self while I was intentionally annoying him

intentionally annoying someone

when I know I'm forgiven

that my mom asked me, two weeks ago while driving home from Madision, Wisconsin if I wanted to play the Alphabet Game. this in itself was my favorite, that at the age of 28 my parents still want to play the Alphabet Game with me. but then, what makes it favorite moment, PART II, is that she got really tired, said, "time out". then she woke up, saw a Quilt Shop (really a Quilt Shop!?!), got her Q and won the game

the moment that something really hard for me, like a difficult life circumstance, presents meaning in my life

dinner and couch dates with our best friends: Erin and Mike

when I truly believe in second chances. not just thinking I believe in them, but when, in the moment, I am meeting with someone who has quite honestly messed things up really bad. then they have a moment of genuine redemption. when I get to be a part of that and be reminded that life is made up of second chances, new moments in time to make new

board games

that we have a community group of people who genuinely want to love one another and God

the times I get to see my sweet friend, Tessa in the hallway at work

that my husband gets really excited when I get home, meets me at the door, takes my lunch and purse, puts them down and hugs me

singing with my dad

eating popcorn in bed

I treasure that even in the worst of times we can have favorite moments and I am SO thankful for that. SO thankful this Thanksgiving for my husband, my friends, my family, being able to see life change, and the perspective Jesus offers me.

would you consider this?

Almost two years ago, I had the privilege of meeting some beautiful people in a slum of Kenya called Kibera. People in the slum live in absolutely devastating circumstances with little opportunity to recover. One of the solutions to this problem is microfinancing, offering small loans to those who live in the slum to start a business and thus create enough income to move out of poverty, or at least fulfill some needs that were not previously fulfilled. One of those businesses is jewelry making. We have been taking orders from the jewelry makers (technically working with the man who started the bank and microfinancing business, Michael Nyangi, for about 1.5 years now.
*Click on Michael's name for a video that amnesty international made about life in the slum and what Michael is doing to change it

Please consider purchasing very reasonably priced jewelry to help change lives. All proceeds go back into the jewelry makers' business or goes home with them to their families as income.

This order will be placed by October 1st and will be received in time for Christmas gifts. I know it seems early but ordering now ensures that they will be here in time.

Please take the time to look through this online catalog.

You can then download and complete this order form and email it or any questions to KiberaJewelryInfo@gmail.com. Checks are payable to ANAW-USA.

Any of those of you who have already purchased the jewelry and would like to speak about its quality or process, please leave your comments!

I want to remember this...

I bought a travel, ceramic Starbucks mug three days ago. Its pretty weird but mugs have this ability to significantly brighten my mornings. For the last two days, I’ve been making my coffee and putting it in my new mug, feeling happy that I get to enjoy my coffee in a ceramic cup on my way to work before the day starts to turn to chaos. And let me tell you, something making me happy before 8:00 a.m. is colossal as, it is, without question, the most difficult part of my day, and likely the most difficult part of the day for anyone around me :)

As I was coming home around lunch time yesterday, my mug slipped right out of my hand onto the cemented driveway. Two days, TWO days, that’s all it took for my mug of happiness to slip from my grasp and shatter. I was upset. Actually, almost felt like crying that I spent my limited spending money on this mug and it lasted two days. Kevin cleaned up the mug for me. I went back to work.

When I came home in the evening, I looked to the counter and there it was. A brand new mug, three days newer than my old one, waiting for me with a Starbucks gift card saying that I was my husband’s favorite.

Yup, tears welled up in my little baby eyes. I love being someone's favorite. Particularly, I love being his favorite.

...stuck in the in between...

I've been feeling stuck for a while now. I guess meaning, the last time I felt absolutely purposeful has not been in the last couple months and trying to remember when it was that I felt purposeful is hard.

Don't get me wrong, there have been a lot of great things that have been going on:

We moved into a house that, albeit is not the house I would choose to live in forever, its a house, above ground (we have a habit of living in basements), has beautiful sunlight, hardwood floors and some great old house details. Its our own (while still renting) and it feels nice.

I have a job that is consistent, has a great schedule, is only 10 minutes from our house, and I work with pretty great co-workers.

I have a husband who quite simply is perfect for me. It truly has been such a gift to be able to see how well we fit, like we were made for each other. We even both firmly dislike mornings and know to not engage each other until after our morning cup of coffee.

My husband is thoroughly enjoying wrapping his passion into his job, photography, and is really good at it.

We attend a church that feeds our souls and that we feel proud of. A church that really cares about God's truth and loving people fully for who they are.

We have had so many visitors this summer, leaving us feeling loved up and in good company.

Yet still. I have this feeling that I need to be doing something more, something more purposeful. And maybe its not even doing something more but heading somewhere where I know I need to be. You know, the sweet spot, where you are sure this place was created for you and by being there you are, in essence, completing the final piece of the puzzle? For that period in time anyway.

I'll let you know when I find it, half joking here. For now, I'm a bit stuck in this season, in between, trying to, each day find more purpose and clarity on where God wants me and my family to be. Its strange, even as I write this, I feel just a bit thankful that I'm not going to be the kind of person who sits in this forever, because I can't. I want so much more for myself, for my family, for those around me. I will move from outside the in between. Even if its one step in the right direction, I'm moving. See you later yesterday.

Its Important

Kevin and I recently went through a personal hardship that has been pretty heavy on our hearts. We've been sitting in something, knowing that we don't deserve it and knowing that its not fair. We've had a few people say things like "its actually quite common" and then provide statistics which are somehow supposed to make us feel better. I've even tried to convince myself that it really is not that big of a deal and it will all be okay.

We went to church last weekend and our pastor talked about the first miracle that Jesus performed: turning water into wine. Jesus was in attendance at the wedding of a couple whose names didn't make it into the bible, meaning they likely were not royalty or holding some sort of great power. Even so, he chose to, as his first miraculous way of meeting a need, turn water into wine when their supply ran dry. This couple, who likely felt embarrassed that their "lowly" status became even more obvious to their guests, had a hardship. I'm sure that Jesus thought very carefully through this first act that would set him apart from all other people. Jesus chose to meet this need, when comparatively could have done anything. Maybe moved a mountain. Cured an illness. But he chose this.

The fact is, it's not okay. Its really not okay. And this is our big deal.
So I'm learning, my hardship is important.

Happy Easter

*Photo by Kevin
While driving to work yesterday I was listening to a song that my dad and I sang at my great aunt’s funeral. It goes like this:

There's a peace I've come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There's an anchor for my soul
I can say "It is well"

Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead

And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise, I will rise

And I hear the voice of many angels sing,
"Worthy is the Lamb"
And I hear the cry of every longing heart,
"Worthy is the Lamb"

I started singing along with the radio as I might have the day of the funeral. But as the song approached “And I hear the voice of many angels sing…” I was overwhelmed to tears. Maybe it was because it was the significance of Good Friday, or maybe I was just extra emotional. All I know is it gives me so much hope to know that when there is pain, someday we will be celebrating along with the angels and the Creator.

Happy Easter.

Ignorance Is Bliss

*Photo by Kevin


Ignorance is bliss. Isn't it? I used to fight ignorance. The more I knew, the less uninformed I could be and the less opportunity to turn a blind eye. I'm beginning to feel these days, I mean really feel, how much easier it is for my heart and general sanity, to remain untouched by the wrongs in the world. After all isn't this why we choose to watch The Bachelor instead of the news? I'm not pointing fingers here. I DO this.

I've been working for a year and half in a field where people lie to me, a lot. The fact that they lie to me can often mean that they are fighting, the only way they know how, for the ones they love. After some time, however, this becomes tiresome on my inner most parts, on my soul. I really love people. Like one of my favorite things to do is be with people who I love, my husband, my family, my good friends. And I really trust them. I have no reason to question their intentions or their desire to be honest with me. There are, however, a lot of people in my life who are not this for me. I'm finding that because I know that people lie, and in particular, to me, I've started questioning people's general reasons to do what they do. I question a person's intentions, I question their truthfulness, and I question my ability to be trusted. Ugh. Sitting in this feels awful. So I have to move on...

I'm learning that I have to trust in what I know. I cannot take any responsibility for those who aren't honest. All I know is that each day, I wake up because God intended for that to happen. I get ready in the morning preparing myself physically and emotionally for a pretty long and generally hard day. I pray in the car ride over that God will give me strength that I know I don't have. I get to work and work, as best as I know how, with as much energy as I am able and with as much respect and love for others as possible. I go home and I love my husband, who was made for me (and may I add, what a good match that has been for my soul).

And then reflect.

What did I do with my day that was purposeful and filled with love, grace, and compassion? At the end of the day, I need to know that somehow I made a difference, whether it was eventful or mundane, filled with "are you kidding me? did that just happen?" moments or "wow, I'm getting no where" moments. I can know that I have purpose because I'm living for the One who can fulfill all needs.

Ignorance sure is bliss, kind of. Life really is not life if you are not living in reality. Right???

Its Christmas

It’s Christmas. One of the parts about Christmas that is inspiring to me is that people seem to be a bit more generous. Food banks are more fully stocked, shelters have people serving food, and families receive gifts from others who can supply them. It’s consistently the one time of year that people are more apt to spread tidings of comfort and joy. It reminds me of why we celebrate. Over 2,000 years ago, as a way to honor his arrival on earth, a group of foreign kings brought a sweet baby gifts. His name was Jesus.

Most would not argue that Jesus was born, grew up to become a carpenter, and then died in his 30s an excruciating death. What is argued, is if this man was God. Although this is the pivotal point in whether or not one would identify as a Christian, I love that no matter our belief, Jesus did some pretty sweet stuff during his life on this earth in meeting the physical, emotional, and spiritual needs of others. Here’s one of my favorite stories.

Jesus went to the Mount of Olives, a mountain ridge in east Jerusalem. While in the temple courts teaching, a group of religious men walked in with a woman who they caught having sex with someone who was not her husband. The man they did not bring in. The religious men stood her up in front of Jesus and all others present so that she could be cast away and stoned.

Jesus, seeing the pain on her face, bent down to the ground and wrote in the dirt with his finger. It is unknown what it is that he wrote. One theory: maybe he wrote the sins of those standing there: murder, gossip, greed, pride. Then he said to them, any one of you who has never done something you regret, never missed the mark, or never made a mistake that you wish you could take back, you stay. Stay and throw the first stone. He began writing on the ground again. Rage, lying, jealousy.

One at a time, the oldest first and the youngest next, walked away. Until Jesus and the woman stood side by side.

Jesus asked her, “Has no one condemned you?”
“No one, sir”
“Then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin.”

When others had reason by law to chastise this woman, Jesus offered grace and provision. "Go", be free, but make some changes so that you will live life abundantly. One where your joy will increase and where you will be who you were created to be, God's daughter, whom he picked since the beginning of time.

Kibera Jewelry

I wrote a post a while back about one of my experiences in Kenya from almost a year ago. Since this post: Kibera I have connected with Michael Nyangi, the founder of Lomoro Microfinance Institution (MFI) in Kibera. With the help of my husband, my mother, and several everyday models, a catalog has been developed to help expand the Kibera residents' market to sell jewelry pieces. If you would like to help benefit families in one of the largest slums in the world, please view the catalog. Info about how to order is at the end. You can also email KiberaJewelryInfo@gmail.com for any questions.

View Catalog below:

Kibera Jewelry Catalog

Today

Right now my husband is sleeping in Iowa in his car on his way back from a two week long photo road trip. What has been unbelievable and slightly ironic about being separated from him for two weeks is that I've been inspired by who he is and his giftedness. Along his road trip, he has taken the opportunity to document people's lives with his photography.

Here's his latest post about his grandmother:
Trudy

When I called the doctor for some reason or another, after [Wally] had passed on about six months, he said,

“Trudy, I asked your husband to come in for tests, I wanted to do a biopsy on him, and he told me he didn’t have time.”

Living for today seems to have more meaning after experiencing some of that moment Kevin had with his grandmother. It is my prayer for you and for me that Today will be divinely motivated.

No longer forward nor behind
I look in hope and fear;
But, grateful, take in the good I find,
The best of now and here.
~ John G. Whittier

At this moment

At this moment, I am incredibly thankful for the opportunities that have been offered me. At this moment, I am a little scared of what's to come. At this moment, I'm here.

I feel a bit nostalgic thinking on the last couple of years. They've been some of the hardest I've experienced for a number of reasons. Yet, I think because of that, I've learned a lot about myself and others.

I've learned that its always just a little more complicated than it may look on the surface... for the 8th grader who bullies; for the 8th grader who's bullied; about the complexities of being a foster/adoptive parent in our system; about the complexities of being a biological parent in our system; about the complexities and impacts of adoption, domestic and international; and about people - we are always way more complicated than it may look on the surface and I for one, need to offer more grace and forgiveness.

Life is actually really hard. I've learned that each day is new, one with opportunities or obstacles. And many times those can be interchanged simply by my mood and desire.

My husband will love me no matter what. These last two years have been hard on my friendships and my relationship with my husband. We haven't had a lot of time together, yet, he has been the biggest supporter of me. Spending more time with him is one of my most favorite reasons why graduation is going to be so much sweeter in a week.

I can actually do this. I've been given gifts and talents that are purposed for serving others. Despite my insecurities and feelings of not believing that I can change the world in some small way, I can. "And now to him who can keep you on your feet, standing tall in his bright presence, fresh and celebrating... be glory, majesty, strength..". I believe God will keep me upright, on my feet, even when it feels like I might be navigating with blind eyes. I'll have a guide.

People, even the ones who may do things that I may never understand, are all hurting, growing, and worthy of a second chance. I know that sounds a bit idealistic, but I feel it to be true. I've met a mother this last year who was struggling to provide adequately for herself and her children. She did something that resulted in her children being removed from her care. 6 months later, she's getting her life together and is getting healthy for her kids. What if she wasn't given that opportunity? What if people looked at her as if she were worth nothing more than the things she's done and never gave her an opportunity to change? Then we'd have a lot of people walking around who had nothing to live for.

Let me tell you, words cannot express how happy I am that these two years are done. That I'm graduating and can go out and do what I love to do. Despite my sheer joy that I never have to write another paper about trauma or complete a case plan for a "fake" family, I am utterly thankful for my experiences in grad school, even the bad ones. Never thought I'd say that but it's true.

Congratulations to all the wonderful people I have met these past two years who have dedicated themselves to others. I'm so thankful to have met all of you and wish you many blessings!

A weekend full of emotion

This weekend is special for me. Not just because I get to hangout with family & friends, dye Easter eggs, and wear a pretty dress, but because it has meaning, significance, and an authenticity that reminds me about why I choose to value what I do.

To some, faith, true all-encompassing faith, sounds quite ridiculous or maybe even intellectually deficient. To me, believing that God has meaning and significance in my life, that he has provided purpose and motivation, and that he would offer grace, love, and forgiveness, is simply the most important thing I will ever know or feel.

Tomorrow, we will celebrate the life of a man who above all else, saw people for who they could be, for who they were made to be, and for who they would someday be. We celebrate the life of a man, who being in very nature God, offered hope for a better future. One where there will be no more pain, anxiety, depression, guilt, wrong-doing, inequity, or weeping.

There is a song that an amazing song writer (Randy Pearce) wrote that seems to sum up this man. Some of the lyrics are below:

Listen here

Come and see, what he has done for us.
Giving hope and peace where there was none.
Taking off, the chains of yesterday.
The past behind, embrace a brand new day.

Thanks be to Him who knows all, is in all, and understands all.

If you are interested in attending an Easter Service this weekend stop by at Flatirons Church in Lafayette.

Thoughts on December 11th in Kenya

Day 10: Friday, December 11th, 2009

•Begin to build a house for a needy community member, selected by the community themselves
•Participate in buying of the baskets and financial training

I was fortunate today to be able to participate in building a house for a widow in the Kasigau community. Together, with the community, we hauled bricks and trekked up part of a mountain to fetch rocks for the house’s foundation. Others walked down the road and through bush to fetch sand. And others made bricks using the brick machine. While completing these laborious tasks, I couldn’t help but think of how creative this community must be in order to survive. They truly live off only the resources found around them, as all products used in the making of the house are within walking distance or else not utilized.

This idea is very different than the consumption and commercial practices in the U.S. Much of what is used in daily life is imported from other countries or other parts of the country. It is rare that we use products from our own backyards. Consequently, this has made me quite frivolous in my own consumption. I take a longer shower if I’ve had a long day. I eat a snack simply because it’s available. I use paper products more than I should. Why? Because I don’t have to see where the trash goes; I put it in my garbage on Thursday evenings and when I come home Friday, it’s gone.

Natural resources are of great significance in Africa and a large part of a great author, Wangari Maathai’s, discussion. Africa has many resources, many of which they themselves cannot use because of a lack of education or financial resource. Additionally, Africa has relied extensively on raw materials in their trade which little is paid. She speaks of an Ethiopian economist Fantu Cheru:

“Africa has failed to capitalize successfully on the natural resources that have always been so evident to the rich world. He points a finger at a number of problems: lack of political will, weak institutions, a shortage of skills, too many ties to former colonial powers, and inadequate infrastructure, transport, and communication networks.”

How this affects rural communities:

“… the money brought to rural areas through the sale of commodities such as cash crops is then siphoned back to the towns where the consumer goods are transported from, and eventually repatriated to the countries that produce them. Even most of the industries that are located in Kenya – tourism, and the growing of flowers, coffee, and tea – are largely owned by foreign companies.”

[side note: I had to look up the meaning of repatriated and although you probably know its meaning, I'll share it with you: to send back to one's own country]

The siphoning of money back to the cities and outside owners often leaves rural communities with little economic gain. The community in Kasigau has a solution to this issue. The women in the community have begun making kiondos (baskets) as a means to economic sustainability. Starting with a native plant, Sisal, and using resources from outside their own community only minimally, the women in the community are able to creatively generate income for their families (when interviewed, all of the women said that they would use the profits from the baskets to help pay for school fees for their children).

This evening we set aside baskets to bring home to sell for the women. Although, a slightly confusing practice, as business practices between our group and the community differed, the women set aside 100 baskets for our group to bring home and sell. Additionally, each group member bought several baskets during our stay.

I hope great things for the women of Kasigau. Their artistic and beautiful baskets are symbolic of their creativity and strong spirits.

Since this entry, I have been blown away at the willingness and compassion evident within people to help fulfill the needs of others. With the help of those willing to purchase kiondos in the US, over $2,000 of profit was created for these women.

*Mom, you are amazing. Thank you for all of your help in this. You've shown an incredible desire and ability to help create change on behalf of this community, thank you.

What this really means is that 68 children will be able to attend primary school for one term (3 months). Or 17 children will be able to attend school for a full year.

Pretty incredible. These women, for the most part on their own, have been able to create a uniquely, well-crafted, and desired product that can help build a future for their children. This future will include the fulfillment of needs, less sickness and disease, and further sustainability in many areas for this community. I find great joy in the fact that this product, this business, is something that these women have created themselves, and with a little help along the way, they, themselves are creating a better future for their families. With an education, these children will be able to read and can then get a higher paying job. One that will lead to greater quality of life, less fear, and more equity.

These women are exceptional. I hope and pray that this will create life change for these women and their families.


Video on Kasigau Basket Weavers - created by MaryBeth Caudle-Brooks, a student on the trip

In response to Haiti - Overcoming

I have been having a really difficult time in response to Haiti. I know that this moves beyond only my reaction in that it has left the world speechless. But I can't come to terms with what happened, can't understand why this happened, or see what purpose it serves. Why, when in all his power, would God who has the ability to spare 200,000 peoples' lives, not do it?

It doesn't make sense, still makes me cry, and still leaves me feeling a bit hopeless.

In the midst of this, I had an email conversation with a dear friend about this. This is what she had to offer:

"...I guess I just don't try to understand it. Because, really, we never will. I will say one thing, out of tragedy comes the best stories of love and humanity and compassion. I mean, really, things that most cynical people (like myself, sad to say) would NEVER in a zillion years think of happening are taking place right this very second out of the goodness of people's hearts. I heard something on NPR about how the financial donations have been record breaking from the US and the rest of the world. Something so terrible and seemingly 'pointlessly tragic' really brings something beautiful out of people. Maybe that's God's point in all of this. Like that idea that God creates your testimony out of what you've overcome and the more you overcome with Him, the more incredible His work is shown to be?"

I love that, "The more you overcome with Him, the more incredible His work is shown to be."

I probably won't ever understand what's happened in Haiti and I still might be frustrated with God who has let it happen, but I know that right now beauty is shining through this mess. I know that people are calling out for help and others are responding. I'm so humbled by the response to this crisis and am even more humbled by the way in which the people who have experienced this crisis have responded.

God has a different perspective, one which I might not ever be privy to in this life. His ways are a whole lot bigger...

Job 4:5-7
"But now trouble comes to you, and you are discouraged; it strikes you, and you are dismayed. Should not your piety be your confidence and your blameless ways your hope? Consider now: Who, being innocent, has ever perished? Where were the upright ever destroyed?"

God has not turned his face away from Haiti, the innocent will never perish. It's all pretty hard to understand but I know that watching those who are overcoming is one of the greatest honors and most beautiful artwork I will ever see.

Haiti

Yesterday, Haiti, the poorest country in the Western hemisphere, was hit with the largest earthquake seen in years.

Why them?

Even before the earthquake, this country had an unstable infrastructure with many living in poverty, half of these children.

Lord, I don't understand but I know that I have to pray. I pray for the children who can't find their families. I pray for those who are suffering and don't have enough strength to pull themselves out of the rubble. I pray for an absolutely devastated country. Why them, Lord?

Donate to the Red Cross

Thursday, Day 2

I will forever remember what I saw and how it made me feel...


A picture of Kibera, a slum that houses 1.5 million people within a 1 mile radius.


Children we met in the slum who were singing, "God blessed us for bringing you to us".


A little dog I saw walking in the slum. He was searching for food but it seemed inevitable that he would not find any.


Journal Entry: Day 2: Thursday, December 3, 2009

I don’t really know where to start…

At times this evening, I have been unable to breathe in response to experiencing Kibera, the 2nd largest slum in Africa.

Kibera houses 1.5 million people and does not discriminate on what type of people live within it. People of all ages, tribes, and walks of life have spent generations living in the very vicious cycle of poverty. Kibera accounts for less than 1 percent of Nairobi’s land but holds more than a quarter of its population. This slum was a piece of land that was given to Nubian solders (originally a tribe from Sudan) as a reward for fighting with the British in World War I. Since then, other tribes have moved in and have rented the land from the Nubian landlords. After Kenya became independent in 1963, the government enacted into legislation for Kibera to become an unauthorized settlement. Therefore, there are no basic services, schools, clinics, running water or bathrooms that are publicly provided by the government. Consequently, people are living in absolutely dire circumstances with little resources to recover.

While walking through Kibera, I looked at most everyone in the eye. Some offered a small smile, some said “Jambo”, and others quickly looked away. I couldn't help but think what it was that they were thinking about me as I walked through their neighborhood with two shoes that fit and matched. With a hood over my head to protect myself from the rain. With White skin that automatically set me apart offering reminders of those who had colonized their land. While sitting with my thoughts, I heard children singing and my heart warmed. They were singing, “God blessed us for bringing you to us” as we walked by and as they clapped and danced. I danced with them for a moment and they laughed.

As we continued to walk through the incredibly muddy streets, we visited a jewelry making shop. They welcomed us with sincerity and smiles.

The streets were so muddy as it had been raining all day. Consequently, our shoes were covered in mud and the feces that had been thrown in the streets. As we returned home to the Kifaru House, two men, who I believe were the security guards, took our shoes and began cleaning them. I didn’t ask them to clean poop off my shoes but they did it without asking for anything in return. The kitchen staff did not have our dinner ready at the scheduled time. They apologized profusely when dinner came out 20 minutes late and treated us like we were kings in queens.

All of these experiences left me feeling incredibly humbled. It reminds me of the story of Jesus washing his disciple’s feet: taking on the role of a servant. As I write, I continue to be absolutely overwhelmed by the humility and compassion that the people I met possess. I feel like they have been cheated and realize that life can be so unfair.

These people who have, physically speaking, so little, treated me like the most important person. I saw more genuine smiles today, than I have seen in a while. The sweet voices of the children and their playfulness despite the effects of intense poverty, showed amazing resiliency. The men who so graciously welcomed us into their jewelry shop offered me compassion. The men who cleaned our mud soaked shoes exhibited much humility. And our cooking staff showed incredible hospitality. These people are simply amazing. How can I ever offer to others, what these people have offered me?

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There is an non-profit that is housed in the slum that offers micro loans to residents who would like to start a business. The non-profit loaned the jewelry making shop, mentioned earlier, a micro loan in which they have paid off and are now making profit. The jewelry makers create beautiful pieces from wood, stone, beads, and recycled animals bones. I'm still trying to find the best website to give out for people to place orders for the jewelry. Its a little more complicated than I thought but we'll figure it out.