Friday, July 19, 2013

Holy Communion With Heart Pieces

No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us. 1 John 4:12

When I read this verse the other day it just struck me that indeed if we want people see God we must love one another. It really doesn’t even matter what we say or if we do all the right things if we don’t love like God loves no one will be able so see God in us.

Loving like God loves is not always easy. Its like breaking your heart in thousands of little pieces and handing them out like communion bread. Those thousands of pieces may be distributed all over the world and that is tricky because of the true saying, “ Home is Where The Heart is. “ Where is home when your heart pieces are scattered like feathers in the wind? Our hearts need to be with God and that is where home is- with God. And God keeps multiplying love and heart pieces like the 5 loaves and 2 fishes he used to feed the five thousand hungry people long ago! As long as we keep breaking and giving he keeps multiplying!!

One evening as the sun cast its last light over the empty market place I stood under a crude shelter with a dear, old, bag, lady who roams the streets by day and spends her nights hiding behind an old table in the market. I looked into her cloudy eyes and asked her if she knows God and I reached out my soft, young, hand and touched her dirty, worn hand and it was a holy, unforgettable, moment. That moment when a piece of my heart is torn off and given with an open hand asking nothing in return but to see God. 

On Tuesday when I laid baby Kerry on a little bed in a government office in the city and walked out I felt it again- that tearing of heart and I tucked a piece into his little chubby paw  to hold onto forever. A couple days earlier his mother abandoned him in our yard, leaving him in the tall grass for the ants to feast on until someone heard his pitiful cries. Poor, poor, baby, boy someone loves you and cares for you more than you can imagine! Someone who created you perfect, exactly the way he wanted you to be.

And so we have a continuous communion with a heart torn into pieces like bread and shared in love. And I pray that God is seen and felt and worshiped in this life.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

The Way of Love

On a Saturday morning I placed little Michno into the arms of his mother for the last time and bade farewell to the little guy who had come a month earlier, weak and sick. The baby I had prayed over, lost sleep over, loved and cared for. And now two days later bent over the bathtub scrubbing out the Monday morning dirt ring I heard the familiar shuffle of feet coming up the porch steps, the murmur of voices, the little jiggle at the gate… I knew right away.

I knew someone needed me again, someone little, someone sick, someone who needed love, someone who needed healing from Jesus.  That little someone was Loudine, a sweet two year old girl. At first glance she appeared to be a chubby toddler but on closer examination it was obvious that she was not chubby with baby fat but with body fluid. She was so malnourished that her little organs were beginning to shut down causing her body to fill up with fluid to the point where her skin was cracking open and leaking fluid. There were cracks at the corners of her mouth and eyes.There were flies and gnats crawling over her and she didn’t even care. She just lay helplessly in the arms of her anxious papa and waited.

And thus began another journey of leading a sick, hurting child to Jesus and watching a miracle of healing take place before my very eyes!! Because it is Jesus, it’s all Jesus. It’s not these hands or the bits of information I’ve collected about how to care for malnourished kids. If I do everything according to the books it is still not enough. If I love with an earthly emotional rush of compassion. Guess what, it won’t cut it.  The only thing that is enough is Jesus in us and through us feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming strangers, clothing the naked, visiting the sick, going to the prisoners.                   ( matt. 25:35 & 36 )

It takes Jesus love when there’s vomit and diarrhea and crying, and peeling skin floating around. It takes Jesus love when there’s worms and stink and black sticky gunk in brittle orange hair. When there’s nighttime feedings and anxious checking and checking and diarrhea again. And it’s a miracle of healing from Jesus when the loose peeling skin turns soft as silk, frail little legs can walk again, digestive systems work properly, new beautiful hair begins to grow, and the crying is turned to joy and laughter. 

Today I am thanking God that I get to be the hands and feet of Jesus in Loudine’s journey to healing. She has been with me now for three weeks and has come a long way!! She still has a ways to go before she is totally healthy but she is well on the way and she can’t hide the sparkle that is beginning to show in her eyes and every now and then a giggle even wiggles its way out!

Love does that to you!

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For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.  Jeremiah 29:11

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Michno

I can see the tears filling your eyes

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And I know where they’re coming from

They’re coming from a heart that’s broken in two

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By what you don’t see

The person in the mirror

Doesn’t look like a magazine

Oh, but when I look at you

It’s clear to me -

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That I can see the fingerprints of God

When I look at you

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I can see the fingerprints of God

And I know its true

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You’re a masterpiece that all creation

quietly applauds

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And you’re covered with

The fingerprints of God!

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Never has there been and never again

Will there be another you

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Fashioned by God’s hand and perfectly planned

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To be just who you are

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And what he’s been creating

Since the first beat of your heart

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Is a living, breathing,

Priceless work of art!

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Just look at you

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You’re a wonder in the making

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And God’s not through

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In fact, He’s just getting started!!

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And you’re covered with the fingerprints of God!

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-fingerprints of God by Steven Curtis Chapman

Goodbye little Michno! It’s been a pleasure having you in my arms and home for a month! You will always have a spot in my heart! I pray God’s protection and love and blessing over your life! Sweet boy, you are so loved by your almighty, creator, God!

Thursday, May 9, 2013

I Love Being a Mom!

I love little hands and feet with those crooked nails and black dirt underneath!

I love the sound they make when they pitter-patter through the house and leave little toe prints on the white tile.

I love curly heads snuggled under my chin, smelling the fruity smell of kid shampoo or the musty scent of playing hard sweat.

I love rocking and singing hymns and playing baby games and saying bedtime prayers and whispered mealtime grace.

I love how little hands try to handle big forks! And how they help to stir cake batter and little pink tongues take a quick lick when they think no one sees!

I love dishing up bowls of oatmeal with melty sugar on top and frying soft eggs to serve warm and nourishing to hungry tummies.

I love the way they curl up under their blankets at night and snore softly! And how they wake up in the morning with sparkling eyes!

I love too tight hugs from sticky little arms, wet kisses and wilted weed bouquets stuck into old mayonnaise jars.

I love washing beautiful faces and dirty feet and putting band aids on little ouchies.

I love putting clean sheets on little beds and sitting the stuffed animal in the corner.

I love to make play dough and happy birthday cakes and peanut butter bread and pour cold milk in colored cups.

I love how little boys use too much toilet paper and yet leave marks in their underwear and how they use copious amounts of soap to wash their hands and yet I hesitate to eat something they’re holding!!!

I love cool nights of sleep without the baby waking, but if the baby does wake…

I love how God thought about making coffee for moms who had to get up with the baby at night! And how he thought about starting everyone out as little people!! And I love how God thought about making Moms and I am so delighted and excited that I get to be a mom not just to my own daughter but to many others as well.

I love being a Mom not just because its Mother’s Day but because that is what God called me to be. It is what makes me totally alive in a way that nothing else does. I would not trade it for anything in the whole world.

I am trying to absorb these moments and this life because time goes by fast and little people are not little for long. And memory banks fill up and up. And love is the one memory that I pray will fill every memory…

 

 

Friday, March 15, 2013

The Family of God

Recently I had the blessed privilege of being part of  a small anointing service for a dear friend and sister who was struggling with an illness.  ( James 5:13-16)

As a small group of close friends and fellow missionaries gathered around the sick bed it just struck my heart how miraculous it was that such an unlikely group of people all the way from Canada and across the US would end up together like this, close like a family. All of us with different backgrounds, different personalities, each of us with our own strengths and weaknesses but all of us adopted into the family of God! Just as parents delegate responsibilities to their children so our Father God has called each one of us to this spot on the earth at this time and season of our lives to fulfill the work he has for us. On this common ground we stand each one us doing our small parts to make up a bigger part.

It was a precious and beautiful time, gathering in the cool, airy room just as the evening shades fell closing another day. We began with a time of singing, opening our hearts in worship to Jesus. The spirit of God was present as the healing oil was applied. We gathered around the bed knitting our hearts together in unity lifting up our dear sister to the great Lover and Physician who alone can bring deliverance and healing and comfort to the brokenhearted and the wounded and give joy to the oppressed! A tight circle of heads bowing low, healing hands reaching out to minister.

Afterwards there were songs again and blessings! Our hearts bound together like a family with God our Father and Jesus our brother!

Thanksgiving for grace flowing down rich and free to clean, open hearts. Thanksgiving for times of testing and trials that draw us closer to each other and closer to God; that make us more homesick for heaven, that help us put things in perspective. We are the body of Christ and this is why I wouldn’t trade my life for anything in the world!

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Saturday Morning With Veronika

It had been a hard week and I was looking forward to sleeping in but at 6:00 I was awakened by a small girl standing beside my bed, “ Mama, look,” she made a little downward motion with her hand. I looked down in time to see yellow liquid running down her legs and forming a rather large puddle at her feet right beside my bed. I cleaned her up while trying to stay in a state that would allow me to take up sleep again right where I had left off. Meanwhile in the tiny cradle beside my bed a small boy was stirring. I quickly tucked Nika back in her bed and crashed on mine hoping the baby boy would not wake up. Two seconds later Nika was beside my bed, “ Mama, babys crying!” I soked her back into her bed and stumbled out to the kitchen to fix a bottle. I took the baby to bed with me thinking I could still keep sleeping while holding his bottle but once again the little girl appeared beside my bed with the request that no parent can refuse, “Mama, potty!” I just groaned and rolled out of bed, leaving the baby with a propped up bottle ( bad mommy, I know! ) While Nika teetered lengthily on the edge of the toilet seat I sat on the floor with my head leaning over on the tub I closed my eyes once more in hopes of a couple minutes of rest. After a long time I finally pulled her off and said she can finish later if she’s not done.

Back in the bedroom I eased back into bed so as not to disturb the baby but Nika was jealous about the baby being in bed with me so here she comes with her pillow and blanket!! Oh joy! I pulled her up on the bed then lay down once more and covered my head with my sheet in a desperate attempt to block out reality. But no such luck was in store for me! one second later the sheet gets pulled back and Nika peers underneath to let me know the baby is crying again! I slowly pull the baby toward me and comfort him in my arms meanwhile Nika has gotten off the bed with her blanket and spread it out in the closet. Now she gets her dolls and lines them all up facedown on the blanket, she gets up and finds the spanky spoon and proceeds to spank each one while solemnly telling them, “No, no, don’t do that!” (I’m  not sure what her dolls did as I thought it was her who was doing everything!)

I closed my eyes and opened them a couple minutes later to see her climbing up a wicker clothes shelf in our bedroom, grabbing a wad of balloons from the top shelf and stuffing them into her mouth! I knew she was headed my way and sure enough there she was with a handful of slimy balloons begging me to blow them up. I blew one up and said we’re saving the others for her birthday. I close my eyes one last time but open them again when I hear her chanting, “ Micheal Jordan, Micheal Jordan!” I thought I couldn’t be hearing right but I was! She was using her balloon as a basketball and chanting the name Micheal Jordan!! Not exactly what I had envisioned my daughter to be chanting at 2.5 years old!!

Beside me on the bed was  a not so fresh smelling baby boy still squirming and complaining… At that point I gave up the idea of sleeping in and decided to just get up. It was now 7:00 am on a saturday morning!! How exciting!!

Time behooves me to tell of the rest of the day and the activities of one small girl. I’m surprised I don’t have any grey hair yet.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

The Climb

About six months ago while hurricane Isaac was ripping through Haiti a baby boy was born in a little house way up at the top of the mountains of Peyi Pouri. In many ways this baby was just like his three older siblings except one thing, he had no hands or feet. The culture he was born into is steeped in superstition and immediately everyone was saying that this baby is from the devil and its God’s judgment coming down because he was conceived in sin. His mother was shocked and horrified and not knowing what to do under pressure from family and neighbors she actually considered taking the life of her precious son. But God’s hand was there in that tiny mountain hut and he had other plans for this dear baby.

Several staff from our mission went there several days later and found the dear mother still in shock and weeping and but willing to at least feed her baby. They prayed with her and blessed her and encouraged her to care for and love her baby just like any other baby. Even though she tried to give us her baby right away we wanted to let her have the experience of caring for him and seeing him grow and develop like a normal baby created by God for his glory. Although I never saw this baby I immediately felt a strong attachment to him and had a strong burden to pray earnestly for both him and his mother.

So for the next 6 months I prayed and prayed for that baby. Every couple weeks when someone from the mission went up the mountain they would stop in and check on things. Just as we hoped, the baby grew by leaps and bounds and mom started bonding with him and caring for him like she does her other three. And she named him Kristof!

I wanted so badly to see Kristof and his family and where he lives but the only way to his home is a strenuous 3 hour climb up the mountain, on foot. For three years I’ve pretty much been sitting here at the kid’s home so I knew I was very out of shape but I was determined I could do it. I could do it for Kristof. So, Sat. morning surrounded by a group of dear friends, Veronika and I started off.  Shea, a strong young man who can run up and down the mountain carried Veronika on his back and everyone else carried their personal supplies in backpacks.

We left early in the morning when it was still dark. Someone drove us to the foot of the mountain and dropped us off. First we crossed a rocky river bed and then suddenly the the ground rose steep in front of us and there we started up and up that rocky mountainside. On and on we trudged everyone bowed slightly forward because of the weights on our backs and so we wouldn’t tip over backwards and roll down the mountain. No one talked. Slowly the atmosphere got lighter and lighter and then in all its glory the sun burst over the rim of mountains and flooded the world with light! It was glorious to look out over the valleys below us and see the dawn rising to create a new day!

Here and there we paused for about 2.5 seconds to catch our breaths and to drink cool water and then it was on and on, up and up over large rocks and loose dirt  willing our weary feet and legs to take one more step and then one more. Sometimes the trail widened and sometimes it was one lane only. Friends, I seriously thought I would never make it. My legs and shoulders ached, my mouth was always dry from breathing deeply, my whole body was screaming to lay down, to drink cold water… to just rest. I pitied everyone else that I was even along as they all steamed ahead but were too kind to leave me. And Shea who could have run circles around everyone stayed always behind or beside me doing his psychological trick of matching his strong, size 12 footsteps with my quivering ones. We stopped once for a nice rest under the spreading arms of a strong, gnarled, old tree. Then on we went again.

When we finally reached the last hill I was sure that any minute my legs would give out and I would die on that mountain side on that beautiful morning surrounded by my daughter and a handful of friends. Inside I was one quivering mass of misery, I was screaming and blubbering and crying but on the outside I was calm and  quiet uttering only small exclamations of distress now and then. We passed several ladies who were harvesting beans, they looked up and stared as we strode by. Then across a small flat area and we reached our destination, exhausted but happy!

We stayed at the home of some kind friends and that first day we just stayed close by. It was a cold day on the mountain so we huddled around in sweaters, ate huge bowls of spaghetti, sat around, talked, slept some, hiked a little to see some ruins from an old fort, pulled teeth out of an old horse skull, and talked some more and watched a little boy chase a pig and talked some more and Veronika kept picking coffee beans and sucking on them until her eyes were bright from the caffeine rush! In the evening we ate large helpings of rice and beans then sat around a fire and talked and sang and drank sweet lemon grass tea. When one of the ladies who had come up from town arrived home the whole family rose to welcome her and relieve her of her burdens, they lifted heavy baskets from the back of her tired donkey and they fell with a dull thud on the dusty ground.

The next morning which was Sun. morning we woke to a gorgeous new morning! After getting dressed we sat around while our coffee beans got roasted with sugar then we took turns pounding them in a large mortar and pestle till it was a fine ground powder. It was then made into a delicious, syrupy sweet coffee and we had coffee and bread for breakfast. We sat dunking and eating while listening to the pitiful screams of several pigs who were getting castrated that morning much to the horror of my daughter who couldn’t stop fussing about the screaming pigs! I felt sorry for them too!

Walking to church was kind of like a nightmare to me as it brought so many flashbacks from the day before but I held together and I totally enjoyed visiting a sweet mountain church. As soon as church was over we headed out to visit my baby, Kristof which was the whole reason I came in the first place! It was hard, the climb. But the trail and the breathtaking views were amazing! In some places the trail got so narrow and tight it was not only one lane but also no wide loads! Once on the edge of a little drop off the trail was the width of one of my shoes because the rest had broken away! That would all have been so cool and fun if it wouldn’t have been for my dumb legs. But it was worth every step for this:

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Beautiful, dear, darling Kristof!!

We spent some time there just loving on him and talking to his mom! I saw direct, clear answers to my prayers as I watched him and his mom making good eye contact, smiling and even kissing!! They are obviously bonded to each other!

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I pray that this dear lady would come to know Jesus as a very real and close friend who loves and cares for her and her children. And that she would see Kristof  as created by God for his glory and honor!

Pray for Kristof  that God would show us how to best help him and his family. It is very difficult for someone with missing limbs to survive in the primitive and harsh conditions of mountain life where their very survival depends on gardening and farming. We want to follow God’s leading in this situation so that his name will be lifted up and his plan fulfilled in this small boy’s life. Whatever the outcome, I am so thankful that I get the privilege of praying for and loving this dear lady and her special son!

Oh, and by the way- we made it safely down the mountain, slip sliding the whole way on loose gravel, falling into cacti, skinning knees and hands and  bruising legs! And it was worth every step!!