boasting...

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." 2 Cor 12:9

I suppose it is time for some boasting... boasting in my weakness.  I remember a time that I actually thought I had all these great "gifts and talents" that would be used here in Zambia.  I thought I was "gifted" and had something "great" to offer.  *Fast Forward almost 2 years: Now I realize that was SO naive, so arrogant.  Because now... after 2 years of being virtually stripped of any of my own strength, I realize that I'm FULL OF WEAKNESSES.  I'm certain that I've met SO MANY OTHERS who are more qualified than I am.  They are more loving, have better ideas, live a better life, probably would do things right the first time... 
Some days I think "Maybe I could just replace myself with someone who would do it better."  And then I realize, ultimately, God has me RIGHT where HE wants me: utterly dependent upon him.  
There are many days I just have to fall at the feet of Jesus and ask for guidance.  I must ask for help.  I must not believe I have all the answers.  I am not the solver of the problems.  I simply want to be a good conductor of God's love.  I must realize that apart from Him, I am truly and honestly nothing.  I can't be a wife.  I can't be a mother to 5 (plus a few).  I can't love.  I can't see where to go.  I can't give truth.I can't bring healing. Without Him... I can't.  There are so many weaknesses in my own self.  But I will boast in them. I'm unqualified.  But through Him, I'm equipped.  His grace is sufficient and His power is STRONG.  
Now, I only offer what I have through Jesus.  Praying I don't miss... run past... doubt an opportunity to be Jesus... to act like He would... to speak like He would... and to love like He would.... 

Something to give...

When hearing the word "orphan" or "African Child"... people think certain things: "poor" ... "hungry"... "hopeless"... "sick"... etc.  For myself, I've let go of those adjectives and actually, I don't even like referring to our children as "orphans and vulnerable children" because that's really ONE descriptive of a MILLION others about that child.  I see how it can change their mindset, and keep them in a cycle of negative thinking. 
We've been trying very hard to challenge our children with their strengths, with what they can do to give back... rather than just receive.  In my mean mommy voice I sometimes say "Stop thinking 'poor me' and start thinking I'm a blessed, smart, important, child of God who can change the world around me." 
Some of them are getting it. 
Like Shadrick.  He's 10 years old, but about the same size as Zack, who is 6.  When he was born, he was born 3 months early and should have never lived.  Well, that's just not Shadrick.  He's a strong... and determined little boy.  And beyond that, He can read like no other in 4th grade.   But Shadrick has found that they way he can give back is to pray.  Before Shane and I left for the states, Shadrick prayed a prayer to bless Lifesong and our travels.  
Upon our arrival back to Zambia, we learned that a very special friend who writes him often  (probably for their shared love of books) ... named Mrs. Purple... had her husband in a severe car accident.  When Shane told him, he weeped.  (It's Biblical to weep with those who weep... love the heart I see here). Afterwards, he led his class in a prayer for "Mr. Purple".  He continuously prayed for his healing and for Mrs. Purple to be strong.  God is answering his prayers.
For Shadrick, it was learning to think about something other than his own hurts, his own problems, and focus on giving something he could to someone he loves dearly... He could offer his sincere prayers.  And that's what he did.  He didn't sit and think "what can I do from here?"  "I can't do anything to help"... NO!  He knew exactly WHO to go to, and what to do.  He accessed the power of God on behalf of a woman who has touched his life deeply.  

(Shad is on the right of Zack in the orange shirt)

Maybe this is one step in his life where he can see that God hears him, that prayer is powerful, and that he can make a difference! 

He has overcome...

Well, I suppose my goal to "blog more" this year is off to a GREAT start! :/

What I can say is that lately, you'll find me at the feet of Jesus... begging for the redemption of lost years in my 2 older boys life.  Begging for wisdom.  Begging for their salvation. Begging for a deeper knowledge and desire of HIM.  Begging for HIS truth to shine through and be seen by them. Begging for life change.  
I've never stood at the position of the Prodical son's father.  It's a role I'd rather not play. I want to play the role of Mary... or Moses' mother... or Solomons.... is that too much to ask?  ha. (that's a joke people, I know i'm not raising Jesus)
As we are attempting to train in a Godly way... Satan is working... overtime.  He wants more than anything to see our boys fail.  He doesn't want to see them rise above... to break the cycle of deep poverty within their family.  He wants to destroy them through a mindset that is common here and hard to break.   
However, I know the power of my God.  I believe HE is enough.  Pray with me for my 2 boys.  I love them so deeply... 

Home...

I remember leaving my family 18 months ago.  I was standing in the airport and we finally came to the point where there was no turning back.  I could see the dread and aguish in my parents faces.  Finally, what they had prayed for their whole lives was coming true…only they didn’t realize how much it would hurt.  Goodbyes were spoken and I took a deep breath, grabbed the hand of my husband and children (along with an insane amount of luggage) and walked through security.  At that moment, my sight lost them and my eyes fixed on 254 children in Zambia.  From that moment, I haven’t looked back.  Rare have been the days that I found myself longing for anything but the dirt of Zambia. 

2 days ago, my family and I stepped foot onto a plane.  “Home for Christmas,” a nostalgic phrase.  The anticipation around me was just exactly like it should be on Christmas morning.  I had 3 little kids knowing what awaited them on the other side of the trip… and they could barely contain themselves.  I had 2 older children who, with every blink was taking in something new and exciting… and anticipating what things “might be like” upon arrival. I had a husband who dreams of Starbucks… and when his next encounter with one might be. Excitement was high.  Myself, excited… yet contained.  When we finally landed on the ground in Atlanta, pushed ourselves through the various security measures, and saw my parents on the other side… kids went running and Shane and I were still bearing the burden of the luggage. Ha.

For me, excited, yet still contained.  But then it happened.  We pulled into the house, and I stepped out of the car.  My mom rushed inside to turn the Christmas lights on.  When my feet hit the rocks, I smelled “Smoky Mountain Air.”  I walked in to the house, and it smelled as it always does at Christmas time.  I looked around and very few things had changed (with the exception of my stocking position, which is slowly creeping off the edge of the mantel… and with one or 2 more additions I will find myself booted right off).  I was HOME.  Laughter and giggles filled the air, despite our 12:30pm arrival time.  And my mom, as always, took me on the tour to show me where to find exactly what we might need… that her and my grandmother worked so hard to organize.  It took a few minutes.  My mom slipped off to bed.  I finally corralled my children to bed.  I grabbed a book from the book basket.  Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  It had a .49$ sticker on it.  In the front it read “Brad only” (that’s my brother).  That would explain why there were 2 copies of the book. J I read the story to my littles, and noticed in the background that the fooseball table stopped and I could hear the older boys listening from the loft.  They eventually drifted off to sleep.  I walked through the house and it hit me.  “How have I not missed every single thing about this place?”  “How have I not grieved missing so much of my family’s life?”  “How does my heart not LONG to be here?”  It was the Holy Spirit just whispering to me… “I did that for you.  I covered your heart in peace.  I set your eyes on the things I wanted your heart to follow.  It is only by my GRACE and my STRENGTH that allows you to go.”  And the tears fall.  I miss home so much.  I miss my family so much.  But I haven’t shed one.tear. for “wanting to come home.”  That is God’s grace.   I’m so grateful for God’s grace and protection.  I’m so thankful that we can all step foot inside this home again, and rejoice in what the Lord has done for us.  I’ll be home for Christmas… 

Weary...

Wow... It's been almost 2 months... yikes! 
*Please read this with a grain of salt... not a lot of filtering and more for my own processing. * (mom don't freak out that i'm on the verge of a breakdown... I'm not. )

Today, I'm weary.  So much so I feel myself shaking inside.  I'm on the verge of tears at every turn.  WHY?  I can go days or weeks feeling fine, but honestly I feel myself moving towards complete exhaustion.  I'm not sure if it is because my mind is set on our return home for a few weeks.  If my mind is starting to wonder to those things that are so comfortable.  Some days I just long for "easy."  No sick kids... no staffing issues... no unhappy complaints... no death... gas in the gas station... hot water... or well... just water... a well stocked pantry... time ALONE... maybe find myself snowed in somewhere with just my family... a nap... you know... nice and easy.  nothing hard.  not for one day. just one day. 
Ok.  I'm done whining.  
I'm so in love.  I so love Zambia... I love my staff and team... I love education... I love social work... I love 267 children... I love my 5 children... I love my husband... I love to cook... I love to have a clean house... I love to teach... I love visitors... I love planning for the future... I love this ministry... on and on... 
My limits are starting to smack me in the face.  I love much... but feel very unable.  I'm simply unable. 
I'm weary and quite frankly want to run far far away.  (with my husband and children VERY close behind) 
My need for Jesus has never been clearer than it is right now.  I'm feeling a bit in rags.   But God leaves me with the comfort of his word... 
"Do not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap if we do not give up." Gal 6:9

what you don't see...

Behind the blog posts, FB status's, and emails... there's so much that goes on that never makes it to the pages for everyone to see.  Most of the time that is due to the pace of life we keep.  However, there has been one area of our life that I have kept private for a reason.  It's not private if you visit, because you can see it for yourself. It's hard to write about something so emotionally charged, difficult, and especially when things are unclear.  But... the smog is rising and God is moving.  So... now's the time to write.  Most of you know our hearts for adoption.  It walks hand in hand alongside our calling to orphan care.  We walked away from our 2nd adoption process when we knew God was asking us to move to Zambia.   It wasn't long after arriving in Zambia, God began to place certain kids in our path that just "felt" different than the rest to me. But, after moving to a foreign country with so much need... one can't really trust their emotions.  Over time, a boy named Ngosa, started to bond with our family.  He was a single orphan, who at the time had not seen his mother in 5 years.  His father was dead.  His grandmother was seeking Lifesong to care for him as she was aging and becoming unable to do so.  Over time, our family resumed care for Ngosa.  As of now, he has been an unofficial part of our family for 10 months.   Ngosa is smart (in the top 4 in the class... and #7 over all grade 7s in our area).  He's 14 years old... and one of the funniest kids I've ever met.  We've been walking a road with him that has NOT been easy.  But, we've seen a boy who was fearful, hoarding, and acting in every way to "self-preserve"... to a boy who is loving, thoughtful, helpful, and trusting.  We haven't arrived, but we've come a LONG way.  In addition to Ngosa, about 5 months ago, a double orphan in our program began to once again bond with our family.  Paul has floated from place to place after his parents died years ago. Paul is now with us, as well. He says he is 13, but his grandmother swears he can't be older than 11.  (haha)  He is such a tender boy, who is smart but has so much hurt in his life. We are still in what I would call a crucial/critical stage with him.  I've hesitated to even write this.  Why? 1. Criticism.  2. Misunderstandings 3. Prevention of Friends and Family Freak out.  4.  Our journey has been RAW and we haven't been in a place to share.  We NEVER set out to foster ANY children older than our own.   We FULLY understand the risks involved... and are taking appropriate precautions.  We KNOW this may not make ANY sense to many of you... financially, emotionally, and so on.  But what we can say is this... We know we are called to play a key role in their lives.  We see how they are responding to love, nurture, structure, and Godly discipline... and how God is making us... in some strange way... a family.  It has been one of the hardest years of our lives.  But what we can say is the clouds are lifting... we feel like we have not only been adjusting to life in a new country, with so many responsibilities... but also walking through the difficulties of an older child adoption... without the perks of a celebrated, actual adoption.   For now, things are going well.  We're finding our balance and God is answering prayers.  What the future holds, we don't know, but we know that God is faithful and He loves us, our 3 littles, and the boys. All I can say is that our house is full of laughter, homework, laundry, adventure, and funny smells.  But we certainly have 5 of the best children in all of the world.  

Sorrow turned to joy...

Many of you remember my post last month about Davison, and the death of his brother.  If not, you can scroll 2 posts down.  
Often times I think we can write and tell about the hard things, but not the joyful things.  In Davison, I see healing, and I have to share it. 
About 3 weeks ago, I sat with him at church.  It just so happened that the speaker that day had just lost his father the night before.  The sermon was about death, life after death, and how we can view death as Christians.  It was really powerful to see Davison soak it all in and feel that this sermon was so applicable to where his heart was. And there he was... with that Bible... looking up every single scripture mentioned. We stood and then sang together "Blessed be the name of the Lord."  It was a beautiful full time that we could worship Christ together. 
About a week after that, the kids went to a local church camp.  Leslie and I had to visit the camp to make arrangements for the days to come.  When we got there, we walked in during prayer time.  The entire building of youth were praying aloud.  It was pretty powerful.  The kids didn't know we were anyway around.  So (instead of praying, yes, i stink) I surveyed the crowd to find our students and saw them pouring their hearts out to the Lord.  And there it was... I saw Davison.  He was praying so intensely... it looked as if Jesus was standing right in front of him and Davison was just telling him all that was in his heart... all his hurts... his grief... his requests... laid out right there before the Father.  
I see his sorrow turning into healing.  
and... I also see his sorrow turning into laughter.  
"you have turned for me my morning into dancing...." Ps. 30:11
I've yet to learn to always keep my camera close.  So... when I found these, I thought "well, it looks like Davison is enjoying himself... at least with my camera!" 
(Davison is on the left... )

It's good to see sorrow turned to joy... HE does make beautiful things out of the dust....