Fall is here - a beautiful day for pictures!

Fall is here and is was a beautiful day outside. The kids had fun playing football and raking leaves. I had fun sitting and watching them and taking some pictures.

Eddie Joe was literally running around in circles.

You have to love the smile on that kid.

Peaches always looks good wearing Red, White, and Blue.

Flowers that have barely survived the drought.

It was quite a sight to watch these two try and play catch.

A successful catch brings a smile.

Eddie Joe loves to slide.

Raking was fun until they remembered that it is a lot of work.

Can you believe this girl was an orphan?  Her face lights up with happiness, and with family.

Fall is definitely upon us.

Even Doofenschmirtz was enjoying the fun.

Peaches loves to swing.

The Big Fella sat by and took it all in.

I wonder what's next?

After being home from Ethiopia for nearly 7 months, my mind wonders what is next? Will we go back again soon?  If so, where specifically will we go?  Does God have more orphans in our future? 

God knows the answer to these questions.  We walk in faith knowing that what He has for us is for our good and that His leading is perfect.  We wait for Him to lead us.  And we know that He will.

In the meantime, we've found that there are many people in the Sioux City area that are from Ethiopia and Eritrea.  Many of these people have desperate needs due to poverty, lack of language, lack of cultural understanding, and even discrimination.  We've found these people to be extremely warm, giving, and kind people.  And we've found that even though we think about helping people in Ethiopia, there are many Ethiopian people right here that need help.  With them set in front of us it is clear that God has great opportunities for us, and those opportunities only require a brief drive. 

Our hearts realize that this involves inconvenience to our schedule - and our schedule is very important to us.  Our schedule is often more important than the needs of the people around us.  And in addition to schedule impacts, it's just not as cool to drive across town as it is to fly to Africa!  But the needs are here and the needs are plenty. 

We're thankful to God for opening the doors to those around us to remind us that we are very blessed, that happiness is not found in possessions, and that there is joy in serving others.

Some Sunday Morning Worship....

All I Have Is Christ from Sovereign Grace Ministries on Vimeo.

Easter Afternoon

Sunshine took this pic on Easter afternoon while the three younger kids were searching the ever elusive hidden Easter eggs at Grandma and Grandpa's house.

This picture brings to mind several things:

1.  Lilacs are a great burst of Spring beauty and fragrance.
2.  Warm sunshine cures all winter blues.
3.  A butterfly is fascinating to watch as it flutters and floats and flies.
4.  Jesus rose from the grave.  He gives our lives the ultimate burst of beauty and fragrance.  He cures all of our blues, winter or otherwise.  He gives us escape from sin and death to allow us to flutter and float and fly.

An Afternoon in Ethiopia

There we were, Sunshine and me on a bus in southern Ethiopia with two other families.  We were visiting the families of our sponsor children.  The children whom we had only known through photos and a few sentences that describe their family living situation, their likes/dislikes, etc.  We visited the sponsor children of the other two families first.  Stepping into the homes of these families was emotional.  In their abundance of poverty they overflow with hospitality and kindness.  You are royalty to them.  You are honored as their guest.  Even so, the living conditions and smells and dirt deeply penetrate your senses, deeply penetrate your thoughts, deeply penetrate your heart.

It was our turn to visit our sponsor child's family next.  The child whom we had been sponsoring, I will call him Gwatalo, had moved away from the area shortly before we traveled to Ethiopia.  We weren't sure why he had moved.  We were given another child to sponsor, whom I will call Dregos, and that would be the child we were to visit.  As we were driving, the social worker mentioned we were going to see Gwatalo next.  I told him Gwatalo had moved and we were no longer sponsoring him.  I insisted we were supposed to go see Dregos.  The social worker insisted that Gwatalo had traveled a long distance and was here to be visited by his sponsor family.

Although many of the Ethiopians know English, the conversations generally become very difficult when trying to convey complex concepts or feelings or emotions.  To try and communicate all that was transpiring became impossible.  We had brought gifts for Dregos, not Gwatalo.  We won't have enough gifts for both children.  Is Gwatalo even still part of the sponsorship program?  Would it be better to just skip this house and go to Dregos' house?  What do I say to him since we don't even sponsor him anymore?  My heavily structured mind was reeling with this curve ball and was unsure how to proceed.  Sunshine, however, was certain that we should go visit Gwatalo.  Regardless of what material things we had, we needed to go see him.  So we quickly dug through the gifts we had and split them in two and headed in to see Gwatalo.

As in all houses in Ethiopia, there were no lights.  So as we entered the house, it took a few moments for our eyes to adjust and to begin to make out the dark-skinned silhouettes in the dark room.  With our eyes straining and finally adjusting, we could see a man sitting at a table and sitting next to him was Gwatalo.  We recognized him immediately from the picture we had of him. The man sitting next to him was wearing a suit jacket.  Ethiopians are so respectful of others that they will always wear their best clothes for these types of occasions.

Within minutes, we were immersed into the details of his situation.  This man sitting next to him was his uncle.  This was not Gwatalo's house or even his uncle's house, it was just a house being used for the visit.  The sponsor information regarding his father was correct, his father was no longer living.  We were shocked to find out that his mother had died also.  He and his five siblings had to move away because his parents were dead.  Yes, in a matter of minutes, Gwatalo went from a child we had only known in a picture, to a real child who was sitting next to us, who had been orphaned, who was poor beyond imagination.  And yet Gwatalo was such a normal kid.  He smiled, he was amazed by the crank flashlight we gave him, he was thankful for the blankets and clothes we gave him.  I still can feel his hands inside my hands.  Though dirt penetrated every wrinkle and callous on his hands, they were still the hands of a child, hands similar to my own children.  I couldn't help but think of the Big Fella or of Eddie Joe.

Sunshine and I both were brought to tears at his story.  A story that can be repeated over and over by the many, many children we met.  A story that is so common that it does not even create a pause or emotion from the Ethiopians.  This is life to them.  This is normal.  This is why they have sponsorship programs and why they give their lives to reach out to hundreds of children in this one town alone.

I'm thankful to have met Gwatalo.  I'm thankful to have brought a few gifts to him.  I'm thankful to have had the chance to hold him, to tell him that even though his mom and dad are no longer with him, God loves him and God cares for him.  Even though Gwatalo now lives in an area where there is no sponsorship program, I still pray for him and know that God can reach him no matter where he lives.  God can bring peace to the life of this little boy who lives in untold chaos.  God is the answer to every need he will ever have.  And yet it still pains me to wonder who is holding him now, who is caring for him, who is providing for him?

There are thousands and thousands of Gwatalos in Ethiopia.  What will we do to help?  There are also many, many hurting souls in our own city.  What will we do to help?  How will we be involved?  God is the answer.  He knows the deepest hurts and He alone can heal them.  Whether in remote parts of Africa or in the prosperous areas of our own neighborhoods, He is present, He is working, He is alive.

It's good to be HOME!

HOME, oh how it is good to be home!  Being with my family, eating familiar food, sleeping in a familiar bed, and breathing the fresh smells of a clean bathroom.  These are just a few of the things that I have enjoyed since getting home on Tuesday.  Our minds and our bodies are so accustomed to our comforts that when they are taken away, we suddenly realize how tightly connected we are to these things.  They not only bring us comfort, but they also bring security, familiarity, predictability, and satisfaction - they bring rest and relaxation and peace to our lives.

Since being home, sleep has been overpowering in the early evening and elusive in the early morning.  My body is unsure in which Continent it has landed and to which timezone to secure itself.  Gradually, the sun's cycle and my sleep cycle are merging.

For those of you who helped support the efforts of the playground equipment in southern Ethiopia, we want to say, "Thank you!"  It was a great success and a lot of fun to watch the kids who were watching the equipment go into place.  The merry-go-rounds and slides and swings will see many, many hours of non-stop play.  The equipment will bring joy to the lives of many children who have so little.  It will give them a chance to experience exhilaration and excitement in a land where survival is all they really know.

Thinking about the many children I saw, it became clear how very similar they are to my own children.  They are not unique creatures made and fashioned to live without food and water, or home and shelter, or mom and dad.  They have needs and emotions and joys and tears just like my own children.  They have ear infections and fevers and cuts and bruises.  They enjoy sports and playground equipment and singing and each other.  They have feet that get sores and infections when they don't have shoes to wear.  They go to school and learn to read and write.  They love to sing songs about Jesus.  Yes, they are very similar to my own children.  Being with these kids brought them from a distant scenery to a close reality - a close reality where I could hold them and look in their eyes and see that they are just kids.  There are many of them that I won't forget.  Whether it was an excited smile or a weary look in their eyes, they became real to me.

In the end, what do these kids need?  They need the same thing my kids need.  They need love, family, God, school, food, water, and medical care.  And yet many of these things are missing.  Each child has a story and each child has a different need.  And thankfully the organization that we traveled with is reaching into each child's life, each family's life, to meet these needs - to make sure that these children are not forgotten.

It's good for me to be home.  And I'm praying that all of these kids that roll through my  mind would experience the same kind of home, the same kind of peace, the same kind of love.

The Lost Boys of Sudan

We watched the documentary "Lost Boys of Sudan" a couple of nights ago.  I really didn't know what to expect.  We had selected it in our Netflix cue and it eventually showed up in our mailbox.  Coordinating movie time for just mom and dad usually takes days or weeks in our house.  But, Friday night the calendars finally aligned and Heather and I had the TV all to ourselves.

 

The Lost Boys of Sudan are men that have grown up in refugee camps in neighboring Kenya and Ethiopia.  They have lived in those camps for many years and are orphans as a result of the genocide killings in southern Sudan.  Through unmentionable atrocities they suddenly were forced to leave home and country and family.  And they all did this as children, many under the age of 10 with no parents and no siblings.  Can you imagine your own children enduring this?

 

There were a number of "I didn't know that" moments during the movie.

 

I didn't know that so many southern Sudanese boys had escaped the attacks of the northern Sudanese armies.

I didn't know that so many of them had traveled for days and weeks and months across treacherous territory.  Taking attacks from gun-firing army militias, blood thirsty lions and hyenas, and the most paralyzing of all fears - starvation.

I didn't know so many of them had reached neighboring countries such as Kenya and Ethiopia and were set up in refugee camps.

I didn't know that they lived in those camps for many, many years.

I didn't know that so many had been given visas to enter the US via a government sponsored program.

I didn't know that we as a nation had turned our backs on them once they arrived.  OK, so maybe we didn't actually turn our backs on them, but how did we really help them once they got here?

In the end, the movie had a number of moments that stirred the mind to consider these people that are nearly invisible to us.  Many people have provided help in a variety of ways, but have we really met their needs?  Have we really invited them into our country and our culture?  Have we embraced them so that they feel welcome in our churches?  Have we left the comforts of our churches to go and minister to them?

 

These Sudanese men remind us of our Peaches.  They have the same beautiful dark skin.  They have similar lankiness, similar facial features.  We clearly see the connection between the Dinka people (Lost Boys' tribe) and the Anuak (Peaches' tribe).  It makes us remember where she came from.  It makes us remember the miracle that has happened in her life and in our lives over the past two years.

 

Oh God, we thank you that you brought our beautiful Peaches into our lives and that you spared her from the potential horror and pain that likely awaited her.  Oh God, we thank you that you kindly showed mercy in her life and kindly brought joy in our lives as you united us together.  How grateful we are for your mercies each day and your loving, sovereign hand.  Help us to be mindful of those around us each day.  Help us to be your light.  Help us to be your servants.  Help us to go where you send us.  Help us to love the least of these.  Help us to spread your glory.  Open our eyes.  Use us Lord.