not forgotten

Luke and I got to go to a home for kiddos who don't have moms and dads today. It was good for both of us in different ways.

We arrived at the home, and our first impressions were that it was a typical building for where we live: lots of concrete, no greenery at all, old metal playground equipment, kind of depressing. But I did notice it was clean-the outside of the building was covered in white tiles which tend to stave off the grayness that is inevitable for the concrete buildings here.

We went up to hang with some older kids. All of whom had down syndrome. Which was new for my 5-almost-6-year-old. It wasn't comfortable for him, and my normally extremely independent little boy wanted to plant himself on my lap and watch tv. But a friend had brought markers, playdoh and paper, and when the other children started drawing and playing with playdoh, I noticed Luke inching up to the table. He started telling them how good their drawings looked. He took some playdoh to play with it at the table. And then, next thing I knew, he was taking some playdoh over to a girl standing in the corner of the room, rocking by herself. She didn't take the playdoh, but smiled at him. He noticed the little girl that no one else was paying attention to. And gave her what was most valuable to him in the room at that moment. I was touched by my little man and his heart and his courage in what was, to him, an uncomfortable few minutes...

(the picture was not taken at the home--I didn't feel comfortable getting my camera out. I wanted to keep the focus away from the camera...)

Next, we saw the babies. Seven sweet babies. Two healthy babies who have people lined up to adopt them. And five who are ill. One sweet little girl captured my heart. Doctors have said she only has days to live--her liver is not good. She's seven months old, and no one has ever given her a name. I think no one thought she'd survive. And I felt so stirred by that: it seems like society has forgotten her...

But as I prayed for her, I felt that she wasn't forgotten. That her Father hasn't stopped thinking about her for even one second. And so, if she lives on this earth for 7 months and goes to meet her Creator, it'll be a celebration as her Father welcomes her home. His treasure.

roller coaster

I almost wrote this on my facebook update, but couldn't do it. This isn't really so much like a facebook thing.

We have had quite the roller coaster week. We thought my mom was going to come visit. But my dad got sick and she couldn't come. My Luke has been praying every day for Papa to get better so Nana can come. We were sad.

But then the next night, we received an email that started like this: Well, I hope you're ready for this. I have a referral for you. And he proceeded to tell us that he had a little boy, almost two, who could be ours within the next year. If we wanted him. We didn't see his picture or look at his medical records--we said yes. So we have been thinking about a little man living in Ethiopia all day and dreaming about going to meet him and then bringing him home.

And tonight we got an email from the same aforementioned man who told us he needed us to call. So I did, and he told me he didn't even know how to tell me, but sweet little man had passed away. I guess he died yesterday. He got sick and couldn't recover--it happens a lot in third world countries. So, we're trying to pick our jaws up off the floor. It is so sad--not for us, but for this little man who we were already falling in love with. We have been hoping all night that he had someone who was loving on him in the hospital this week.

I guess this happens once every 20 years, but it's made me think.

We actually already have another referral. Another little boy who's 7 months old. And we're excited about that one, too, but I feel just a little sad about the loss of a little almost 2 year old that we actually never met. I hope he's having fun with Jesus.

"Skydiving"

We had a retreat of sorts a couple of weeks ago, and Johnny jumped into a wind tunnel to "skydive". It was a simulation. In a big country where things just aren't the same quality as, say, western countries. But when I was going through our pictures, it made me feel philosophical, for whatever reason. About the symbolism of skydiving. There's a lot of faith involved in sky diving--depending on a piece of thin cloth and strings to catch me when I'm falling from hundreds of feet, right?

I think the Father wants us to be the same way with him: depend on him to catch us when he tells us to jump out of that plane. To change our lives. To ask our friends to completely go against their families to follow the unseen. I truly get afraid to think of all the bad things that could happen when I look out that door and hear those words, "trust Me." And yet, I'd regret if I didn't jump...

Two

We decided to go for 2 children from Ethiopia. And when Johnny gets back from traveling this week, we'll start on the paperwork for grants/loans!