Man of Peace

Okay, listen.  Of all the tens of readers I have out there, I'm sure there are some of you who are not Christians.  You don't buy into all that we claim to believe by faith because it really sounds kinda crazy.  To you I say, I agree.  It sounds crazy to me, too, if I'm being honest.  The claims we Christians make are audacious - we should admit that.  And sometimes when we go on about what "God did" and make connections that are seemingly not there, it sounds as if we are conjuring up our own reality to help ourselves believe in this "God" that we claim is alive and in control of all things.  It especially seems this way when the "all things" that we say God is in control of are dying children and natural disasters and hate.  What a Debbie Downer way to start a blog post, right?

But I cannot adequately introduce this man to you unless we get one thing straight.... I absolutely believe in that God.  I believe the crazy Bible story miracles and I believe in today story miracles.  That belief coexists with the knowledge that it seems crazy to believe.  I rest in that tension, but it isn't always comfortable.  I've seen suffering that takes the breath right out of me, then I contemplate that there is exponentially more suffering that I cannot see and it leaves me spinning.    

Do you know what else leaves me spinning?  When I think of one choice in one moment of time that led to one encounter in one person's life that intersected with another person's one choice and the dominos fell in all the right places and it all meant something cosmic.  

For example, I wonder when was the first moment Osseh chose to take the steering wheel as a taxi driver?

In that moment, God was steering him toward a life in which he would daily face down evil for the sake of the most vulnerable in Sierra Leone.  And it all happened so "randomly."

Osseh is pictured here with Erica's mom.

Long story short.... Osseh was a taxi driver during the time that Erica was traveling to Sierra Leone to adopt her little girl.  During those trips, she and others came to trust Osseh deeply and they always arranged to hire him while in country.  He became so much more than a taxi driver.  He became a guide, protector, facilitator, networker, interpreter, friend, and advocate.  

He was the man of peace.

If you are not familiar with the term "man of peace," let me fill you in..... For a long time, missionaries have followed a spiritual practice when establishing a ministry in a new place.  Believing that God divinely sent them to this place, they also believed that He had gone before them by preparing someone there to receive them and help in the many ways that are needed when beginning a ministry in a new and often hostile environment. Missionaries still "look" for the man of peace as a first step in beginning their missionary work.  There are fascinating stories of how quickly and almost effortlessly these crucial people would surface, finding themselves smack dab in the middle of new circumstances that would lead to relationships that would lead to Gospel partnerships.  This concept was fashioned after the words of Christ when he sent out the 70 to preach the good news.  He commanded them, "When you enter a house, first say, 'Peace to this house,' If a man of peace is there, your peace will rest on him .... Stay in that house, eating and drinking whatever they give you .... Do not move around from house to house .... Heal the sick who are there and tell them, 'The kingdom of God is near you'"  Luke 10:5-9

I am convinced that Osseh, the taxi driver, was prepared by God as the man of peace.

Maybe it was all a set of unrelated coincidences that my mind wants to believe were directed by a sovereign God to do a mighty work.  Maybe.  There's no tangible evidence to prove my theory.

But the intangible evidence is overwhelming.  As a former taxi driver, Osseh knows a way to find just about anyone you need to find in a city of over 2 million people.  He has a vast knowledge of the people in Freetown.  He has a gentle and steady spirit that naturally builds trust and confidence.  He is as loyal as he is trustworthy, standing by your side come what may.  He has a deep love for Jesus, and his heart breaks for the suffering of the children in his country.  Isn't it interesting that THIS man was the one driving the taxi for the woman who would later need someone exactly like him as a Gospel partner when God would call her (them) to inform government officials of injustices being committed, work with community leaders to take action and forge new policies, rescue children from harm's way, and start and run an orphanage?  I mean, if you're new to a country you don't even know where to buy diapers!

Osseh has been there every step of the way.   He is pictured here walking across the only "bridge" that led to a remote village where TRS staff went to rescue children and bring them to The Covering.  I can't help but see the significance in this imagery.  Man of peace - leading the way into unchartered, unstable territory.  Being the one willing to stand in the gap for those trapped on the other side of injustice.

Now Osseh is the social work director at The Raining Season.  I'm not sure what his actual job description is; he just seems to do everything.  I know that he is usually the first to learn of a child who is in danger or suffering and is referred to TRS.  He does intakes on the children who come home to The Covering and follows up and forms relationships with their families.  He oversees each case to ensure that each child receives what he or she needs to grow up healthy in every way.

Osseh was responsible for our team the entire time we were in Sierra Leone.  And, except for the unfortunate incident of our team being detained by the U.S. Embassy (sorry 'bout that, Osseh), I'm sure we were a blessing to lead.  I learned that he loves Michael W. Smith and if he ever travels to America, the place he would most like to visit is McDonald's.  (I'm hoping someone at TRS has his back on that one.)  He picked us up from the airport and was our team's trusted chaperone and guide everywhere we went.  As we traveled to the children's hospital and visited another orphanage I saw first hand the significant role Osseh plays in extending the ministry of TRS to the entire community.  I had heard that Osseh somehow knows everyone in Freetown and I believe it.  His reputation of compassion and integrity precedes him, you can tell.  He is constantly fielding requests to find help for children in the most desperate situations and has deep wisdom in knowing what is most helpful.  I cannot imagine the heavy load this man bears daily with the knowledge of the limitless need and all too limited resources.  

Just for fun, I Googled the name "Osseh" to see what it means.  Would you believe me if I told you that the name meaning for Osseh is peace?  Well, no.  Turns out "Osseh" is a pretty uncommon name.  IN FACT, if you Google it, you'll come across this blog post, written by Erica about our very own Osseh on the first search page!  He's Google-famous, y'all!  

But, besides that, my search of "Osseh" did turn up something.  Apparently, there is a Jewish song called "Oseh Shalom" that is traditionally sung as a prayer for peace.  These are the words, "He who makes peace in His heights may He make peace upon us and upon all Israel; and say, Amen."  It is the prayer that God would bring shalom - complete peace, contentment, wholeness, well-being, harmony.  

On earth as it is in Heaven.

In my humble opinion conviction, it was for this purpose that the God of the universe set THIS saint behind the wheel of a taxi and on the path that was so clearly created for him.  Man of peace. 

Child

I've only actually talked with Erica once.  It was the day after her family's car broke down and left all seven of them stranded in my smallish city with only one taxi available in the middle of the night.  Not cool, Jackson.  We didn't spend much time together, as you can imagine, since their day was filled with troubleshooting the car issue to get them back on the road again.  So, everything I know of Erica, I know from her writing, her best friend, and her mom.  Dangerous combination, right?

During my week in Africa, as I spent time finding NAMES for these servants of God, I wondered if I knew Erica well enough to give her the right name.  I mean, wouldn't it be pitiful if the name I assigned the founder of The Raining Season was a dud!  I was thinking something along the lines of Mother Theresa meets Sandra Bullock playing Leigh Anne Tuohy in The Blind Side.  You remember the scene where she goes into the Memphis 'hood and tells those kids they better not ever mess with her son because she's always packing heat?  I mean, Erica has never done anything like that (???) and wouldn't (???), but I've heard some stories that put me in mind of that character for some reason.  Anywhoo...

I happened to spend my week in Africa with Erica's mom, who provided the exact perspective I needed in order to find Erica's name....

Child.

Here's what I've always wondered.... How does this sweet, little white woman go to Africa, fight her way through an independent adoption, confront government officials and lead a humanitarian effort to rescue the most vulnerable children out of the most deplorable conditions, start an orphanage, and lay the foundation for a non profit organization that now employs 70+ people in Sierra Leone, cares for 112+ children, and continues to inspire and connect the hearts of people in America and Africa to save the orphan?  That's what I asked her mom.  Her answer...

She said yes.

She obeyed the voice of her Father.  That's what a child does.

Ironically, obedience wasn't one of Erica's top qualities as a young child.  (Ahem.)  She wasn't a bad child, but it doesn't sound like she was super compliant.  It seems that the Lord gifted Erica early on with the stubbornness and resolve He would later use to further His kingdom.  Little preschool Erica applied this lovely quality to further her time out sentences.  "You will sit here until you say you are sorry," results in a two hour time out.  (Sound familiar, Erica?  Sorry, your mama told on you!)

When I found Erica's name, I felt like I understood her much better.  It makes sense to see her as a child.  Childlike faith is simple - moving forward without asking next-step stifling questions.  Children are driven by the passions inside their hearts, not deterred by the distractions of self doubt and fear of man.  They live fully in the moment as they see it, not looking back with regret or forward with anxiety.

Or, rather, this is what life as a child is supposed to be.

I can see in Erica's story this childlike faith and trusting obedience.  But, I also see that she has carried the heavy burden of innocence lost.  She has seen, loved, held, fed, and buried precious children of Sierra Leone, whose childhoods have been stolen both figuratively and literally.  She has stared directly into the spirit of evil and injustice that has threatened to take more.  And, she's had enough.

That's when "two hour time out Erica" shows up and says, "NO MORE."

You cannot move a child who does not want to move.  If you are disagreeing with me right now it is because you have never had the humbling experience of trying to set a two year old on his feet when he does not want to stand.  It is somehow worth it to that child, in that moment, to put up his best fight.

To this child of God, THIS FIGHT is worth it.  Not necessarily because she plans to win.  That is the God fueled hope, of course - that every orphan would find a home.  And the fight will continue until that day....

But, the win is not what drives her to continue fighting.  I've read this so many times on the TRS blog and many have heard it spoken as the mission of TRS is shared...

They know that we know.  

Once you know you must act.  We cannot pretend that what we have seen does not exist, 

for if we do.... we become part of the problem.

I know that many people admire Erica for what she has done, but she would be the first to tell you that she hasn't done anything extraordinary.  She said yes.  She obeyed.  She followed.

And Jesus loved the children of Sierra Leone enough to lead her into their suffering.  So that she could KNOW.  And now WE know.  And we must do something.

You may be thinking, there's no way I'm going to go to nowhere Africa and do what Erica has done.

Well, my point is not to be like Erica.  My point is to be like a child.

Follow wherever the Father leads you.... into the suffering of the hurting soul next door, the single mom in your church, the student who is waaay behind in your child's class at school, the forgotten veteran at your local nursing home, the sibling group growing up in foster care, the parents who are raising a special needs child.... or maybe it IS the orphan across the globe.  Wherever the Father leads, just say yes.

BONUS FEATURES!!

(Everyone loves the bonus features, right?)

1)  You can read in more detail how Jesus wrecked Erica's life and birthed The Raining Season HERE.

2)  Erica wasn't alone!  Jesus never wrecks just one person's life when He moves in to redeem the lives of many others.  There was an initial group of people, all of whom unfortunately I do not know, who followed Jesus AS children to lead a fight FOR the children of Sierra Leone.  Her story here is representative of all of their stories, not the least of which was Erica's husband and children, closest friends and family.

I ran across THIS VIDEO in the TRS blog archive that beautifully tells the story of that initial trip through photographs.  Apparently, these folks joined "two hour time out Erica" in Africa and had their own little six week "time out" (i.e. we will not give up) on that initial trip.  Watch it.  Trust me - it is SO worth your time!

3)  These are some of my favorite stories from the front lines in the early days.  (taken from the TRS blog.... Man, I hope I don't get in trouble for all my blog thievery.)
I'll Round Up All Your Scattered Children    
New Definition to Add to the Word ORPHAN
WOW What a Night!
TRS in the Local Freetown Newspaper
A Little...no BIG Shout for Joy! (A little later on the scene, but exciting nonetheless)
   

The Covering

I was told that there would be a recovery period after I got home from Sierra Leone, to process everything.  I expected that I might be a puddle of tears or get all stuck in my head.  But I think I have processed the poverty and devastation that I saw in the country of Sierra Leone by clutching onto the hope and restoration that I saw at The Covering.

This past Tuesday I went to the TRS blog and read from start to finish.  As in, the first post from September 6, 2009 all the way to the most recent post about the current 112 Reasons Campaign.  If you are looking for a good read, I suggest you go to the archive of the TRS blog and read this amazing story for yourself.  If you neglect your family, forego responsibilities, and keep your laptop plugged in, you can do it in one day!  (I would guesstimate.)  I read THIS from September 10, 2009, written two days before The Covering opened.  Two weeks ago I lived amongst answered prayers that were groaned out that day.

You know I am telling my story through NAMES.  Usually it will be a person's name, but today I'm starting with "The Covering."  I've said before, there could not be a more fitting name for this place.  It is a shelter for orphans, but is more than shelter and way beyond an orphanage.  It is a home.  It is a family.  And children are meant to grow up in a family.  Children are singing all the time.  Aunties and Uncles are caring, playing, holding, soothing, praying, nurturing, teaching, loving.  Love is poured over these kids - a constant flow of love.  It is ministry.  Yes, ministry to the kids, but also ministry OF the kids.  The vision of TRS is that these children will grow up learning to serve their neighbors, welcoming others as they have been welcomed, and knowing they have something to give.  So, they engage them in ministry within the walls of The Covering and beyond.  (Seriously.  I can hardly stand it!)  It is bright.  There is no electricity most nights, but it doesn't matter.  The spirit of this place is bright and beautiful.  Shine On!  What a perfect description for the impact these children make.  The children are the heartbeat of The Covering, for sure!

I'm sure I could find imperfections - TRS never claims to be perfect.  But, let me tell you what I saw that I did not expect and what impressed me the most.  The special needs kids at The Covering shine the brightest of all!!  They were not confined to their apartments, where it is probably a lot easier to care for their needs.  They were walking (or wheeling) about, playing with the other children, taking in the sunshine, worshipping at church with the rest of the family, clapping, laughing, smiling - always smiling!  Guess who else was smiling - their caregivers!  If you want an accurate measure of the way any childcare facility runs their place, find the special needs kids.  How are they treated?  How do the caregivers feel about caring for them?  They are the least of these - and they were loved as the most valuable.  "Whatever you do for the least of these, you do to me," said Jesus.

As I was marathon reading the TRS blog the other day, I read the intake stories of the children who are now home at The Covering and I COULD NOT believe what was their BEFORE. When I saw Sara's intake photo (below), I second guessed that it was really her, because I never saw this child without a smile on her face and arms reaching up to be held the entire time I was there.  I've included pictures and linked to the blog posts that tell their stories.  I hope you will join me in praising God for their AFTER.

The Covering is an amazing place.  These servants of God are covering these kids, and the presence of God is covering them all.  But, you should know that The Covering exists because of donations, and it cannot exist without donations.  If you're thinking - wait a minute, is this another person asking me to donate money?  Yup.  No apologies here.  Not when the return on this investment is so valuable.  There is a fundraising drive going on right now to raise the money needed to pay the 2 year lease on the building which is home to these children.  You will find everything you need to know about how to donate HERE.  Also, sponsorships are the main way this organization is funded, and a precious way to love these children directly.  You can find information about sponsorship HERE!

P.S.  I am expecting "a major award" (like Ralphie's old man) for the number of linky loo's contained in this post.  Not a small task for a techie dummy like me!

Sara's Story

 

This is the Sara I know and EVERYONE loves!

Moses and Lucy

Lucy's Story

Doctors said Lucy would never walk.
Here sister is WALKING up to receive her Preschool diploma!  BOOM!

Maligie's Story

Maligie sat with Auntie Allie at church on Sunday and copied scripture from her journal.

Kaday's Story

Kaday with Stephanie on the day they found her.

Kaday learning to take a "selfie" with my camera.

Kaday and Stephanie, the week I was there.

Kadija's Story

 

Kadija would always take my hand and say to me,
"You are Malikie's sponsor.  Come.  Let's go find Malikie."

Festus' story

Festus dancin' with his peeps in the toddler room!

What is your Name?

This was undoubtedly the most asked question of our trip.  I learned names and I gave names.  I'll explain....

If you read my post about the beautiful community spirit of Africa, I hope you found it familiar even though it is foreign.  "You are most welcome here" - that was in Sierra Leone, but I hope you have known community.  I hope you have been welcomed as family by someone other than your family.  I hope you have given yourself for the sake of others - community over individual.  I hope this for you because I have known community in this way and it is one of the greatest treasures of my life.  For real.  Sierra Leone felt like home because I had known community before I ever left this country.  This is a Christian concept.  If you are not a Christian you may have known this kind of community as well, but for Christians it is not optional.  We are the Body of Christ.

That's a word picture that the Bible uses to describe how Christians are to be together.  Body of Christ.  Members of One.  Pastor Daniel preached this message at church on the Sunday I was there.

This is a pretty pitiful photo, but I took it because I wanted to remember Pastor's word to us.  He had four children stand at the front, each holding a picture of a stick man.  Three of the four are holding a stick man's picture, but he is missing a part - his arm, his leg, his head.  The last picture was of a stick man that is complete.  He asked the children, "Which one do you like?" And they pointed to the last picture, of course.  He said, "You like that man because he is complete.  It is this way with us.  It is this way with TRS.  We are all a part of one body and we are all needed for the picture to be complete."

He gave another example.  He asked the children, "What must we have to make Groundnut Stew?"  (A common dish there.)  They listed the ingredients in chorus together, "peanuts, chicken, bullion, spice, etc"  He explained that every ingredient is needed or it's not Groundnut Stew.  He taught us that we each have a gift and that gift is meant to benefit the community, parts of a whole.  During the week, Pastor Daniel often referred to TRS as a team.  We all must work together.  And he called us a family.  One family that is spread over two continents.  Body. Stew. Team. Family.  I hope we are are all catching his drift.  The question was posed - what is your part?

He set the tone, as any good Pastor does.  It defined the way I proceeded into my experience that week.

Community over individual.  It has to be this way.  Time is short when there are children dying of malnutrition and preventable disease.  Or living without parents, without anyone.  There is no room for people to be fighting each other over their own value.  Everyone must fight together to protect and lift up the value of these children.  Community is at it's best when it is on mission.

When I met the TRS staff, I asked their names and I tried to remember.  But as I watched them function together I gave them other names, according to their part in the bigger picture.  I couldn't help it.  Pastor Daniel's message infiltrated my mind and I longed to search for each person's identity in the particular gift and assignment the Lord had given them in this mission.  It started with a man named Osseh, who I have given the name "Man of Peace."  I have an entire blog post in mind devoted to this Man of Peace that will explain the reason behind the name, but I'll bet those of you who know him already agree.   It just fits.

There are so many caregivers, and I made a special effort to learn the names of those who are caring for the little ones we sponsor.  But, generally caregivers are called Auntie and Uncle.  That is who they are to this mission.  Really everyone is called by this name because the children know that everyone is caring for them.  From the director to the cooks, cleaners, laundresses, teachers, social workers, sponsors..... to us!  We were all Aunties and Uncles.  I loved it!!  When the children tried to say "Auntie Angie" it really sounded like "Auntie, Auntie" - and so it seemed my name was always being called.  Then there was "Auntie Malaria"  ("Malaya") - bless their little African-English speaking hearts.  Surprisingly, they really loved "Auntie Malaria!"

Pastor, Man of Peace, Auntie, Uncle.... there's more....

I'm excited to introduce them each to you, by NAME.....

A little note:
Pastor Daniel made a request of our team at the farewell ceremony.  (I've included the video below if you would like to see for yourself.  He speaks very good English, but you'll have to use your African-English listening ears.)  He asks us to go back and tell the good news of TRS.  When he spoke to us that day, he threw in another word picture for good measure - we are each different sides of the same coin.  And, in America, our side of the coin has money.  The Sierra Leone side, not so much.  So, he asks for us to raise support because the money is needed.

And we said we would tell the story, and so I am.  Not just for the money, but also for the money.

You can donate to help pay the current lease renewal for The Covering HERE.  Or, you can go HERE to learn more about becoming an Auntie or Uncle yourself through sponsorship.  (Or contact me directly, because I'm trying to find more sponsors for the children we sponsor.  Little darlings that they are.)

You are Most Welcome Here

If you do something kind I say, "Thank you."  And then you say, "You are welcome."
But, what if "You are welcome" came first?  It would change everything.

I know this because for one week I was in Africa and "You are welcome" came first.

Our first day at The Covering began with a welcome ceremony with all the kids and staff of TRS, complete with special performances.

I can't remember which staff member said it first, and it really doesn't matter because we heard it repeated so many times that we knew everyone meant it - "You are Most Welcome Here."  I still get goosebumps when I think about it.

I've heard before and read for myself that hospitality is highly valued in the Bible.  I think it would be fair to say that in Biblical times hospitality was essential, definitely expected.  It was a deep reflection of character and had implications beyond what we can imagine.  Knowing this, I still never bought into it.  I mean, I know it is sweet to be the one to invite a stranger into your tent and whip up some unleavened bread, but what's the big deal?  I think I have previously associated hospitality with the concept of entertaining, as in Food Network.  Dinner parties.  I know.  I am so American.

In Africa, hospitality was more than a gesture.  It was a gift.  The kind of gift where you know you are being given something valuable.

And it was given so freely.  We were consistently met with this precious greeting, "You are most welcome here."  And, it wasn't just at The Covering.  We walked through the neighborhood with Pastor Daniel as he preached the Gospel and even HE was greeted in this way.  (Pastor Daniel is from Sierra Leone and is the Pastor at The Covering.)  He would walk up to strangers and introduce himself.

Then the stranger would say (and I really do believe it was sincere) "You are most welcome here."  Which seemed to mean - "You have my attention.  I give you my time.  I am listening.  I am welcoming you into my life."  At least to some degree.  It really was precious.

I'm not even going to Google the definition for hospitality because unless it says something like that, it's wrong.

Hospitality means it is not about me.


Sierra Leone is poor.  America is rich.

That's what the statistics say, but I cannot make myself agree.  Now, I'm not trying to be all pseudo humble, tryin to lift up all those poor people in Africa and find some silver lining to their pitiful situation.  I know it's going to sound that way because I've heard people talk about the richness of the human spirit and the gifts of joy and faith that overflow from the hearts of people in the "poorest" regions in the world and I did. not. get. it.  I recently (like two months ago) heard from friends who just returned FROM AFRICA, saying these exact things.  And I was like, yeah I just cannot imagine that - maybe these people are making lemonade out of lemons, but how is that a gift?  Who would want that kind of gift if you have to live such a hard life?

Go easy on me, now.  I know that sounds very shallow, and it is.  But, surely I'm not the only one, right?  It comes with American citizenship, doesn't it?  We don't want things to be hard and we avoid it like the plague.  Hasn't every great American industry been built around making our lives easier, more comfortable, more efficient?  (Apple, hello?!? - as I type away on my MacBook Pro).  My head is going to explode if I think about the excesses of the American "dream" and that I am a part of it / it is a part of me, so let's change gears.....

Here's a little Africa 101 -  Community over Individual
When you have "nothing" and are trying to survive, you need community.  And you KNOW that you need community.  Every man for himself mentality makes for a dead man.  People matter a lot.  (I hope I'm not eluding you with all my fancy words and stuff.)  This community spirit is interwoven into everything.  We were taught this concept in our orientation and given examples of how the children at The Covering share everything, because THEY WANT TO.  If one child receives a new shirt, it is not "mine" - every child in that apartment just received a new shirt.  If you give one child a sucker, they all enjoy a lick.  (They are working on germ awareness, btw.)  I can tell you that I've never seen 100+ children anywhere EVER with such little conflict and so much love for each other.  These are the implications of "community over individual" on a micro level.  It's not hard to imagine, then, how it is that these "poor" people are so rich.

When you are the person being told, "You are most welcome here," you realize that there's meaning behind that and these people know things that I don't know and have something I don't have.  They have a precious gift of self-forgetfulness, weaved into their culture.  They are sinful, too, and I know one's culture cannot take him beyond the selfishness of his own heart.  But, I'm telling you these people are not making lemonade out of lemons.  They possess gifts that are lasting and supremely valuable.  They are rich in the kind of gifts that don't spoil.

I thought of the manna that God provided the Israelites in the desert.  The instruction was to gather only the amount that was needed each day.  The manna gift was good.  It was God's provision.  But they hoarded it and the good gift turned to maggots.

Our American "gifts" (= stuff, money, time) are perishable.  And we hoard them and they rot.

America is poor.  Sierra Leone is rich.

Hospitality meant that these sweet people shared their gifts with me.  Freely.  I did nothing to earn their welcome - it was out of love.  And so I learned of Christ.  You cannot help but understand Christ when you are welcomed in true hospitality.  THAT is why it is essential.

When "You are welcome" comes first, it changes everything.

"Thank you" really means something now.

Believing is Seeing (Africa Edition)

Seeing is Believing - right?  When I began writing this blog a few years ago, I wanted a name that described the way I was experiencing our adoption journey.  For me, there was so much about adoption that was intangible, yet it was incredibly real to me.  When I would close my eyes tight I could almost see the face of our child-to-be.  But when I opened my eyes to the reality of paperwork and interviews and waiting and waiting and waiting, I was so prone to question and doubt.  I named this blog "Believing is Seeing," because it reminded me that what I could "see" with my eyes shut was actually real.  And, since this is my blog we're going to call that faith instead of delusion, even though those definitions are disturbingly similar.

Then, Evan came home and Faith Became Sight - remember?

The title worked for me.  Then one of my smarty pants friends pointed out that depending on how you emphasize the title it could mean either "BELIEVING is seeing" or "believing is SEEING".  So my blog title is confusing and I'm not as clever as I thought.  That is certainly a thorn in the side of a perfectionist like me.  But, I'm sticking with it because I searched for hours for a more fitting name that isn't taken and came up with nothing it is still meaningful to me.

So, in the interest of being crystal clear I need to explain the title of this post.  I'm switching things up, so pay attention!  What I am writing to you now is "Believing is SEEING."  With the emphasis on SEEING.  You with me?!?

Because I went to Africa.  And I saw what I saw.  (Oooohh - foreshadowing!)

And I had to SEE it to believe it.  And smell it.  And hear it.  And feel it.

I've been home from Africa a week now and I'm stuck.  I have a story to tell of beautiful people and names and lessons I could have learned only in their backyard.  But, I keep holding it close as if it's some treasure of mine that I don't want to share, because it is too precious.  And then I DO want to tell it because it is too precious not to share.  I just cannot find the words.

But, I do have pictures.  A picture is worth a thousand words, right?  And to me each one of these pictures is worth a thousand words.  There is a story in each.  And a name.  Some of you reading (shout out to my TRS peeps!) know the stories and the names, and you agree.  My emotions are stirred as I look into the eyes of these people with whom I spent only one week.  How does that happen?

Soon I will find the words to tell my story of Sierra Leone - my one week there that will resonate in me for the rest of my life.  It will only be my story, though, from my perspective.  My perspective is limited, but I find significance in that.  Sometimes limited is good.  I was looking for beauty and I found it.  If I was looking for devastation, it was certainly there to be found.  But we were told in our orientation to focus on PEOPLE not POVERTY.  We were told to invest in RELATIONSHIPS not PROJECTS.

In telling the story this way, I run the risk of being inaccurate.  I mean, the people of Sierra Leone are in extreme poverty.  They have known the extreme loss of a recent civil war.  Sierra Leone always makes the top ten list of countries with the highest infant mortality rate in the world.  But, what stuck with me was the beauty.  In the most beautiful stories there is loss and pain.  And then hope.  Courage.  Redemption.

It was easy to see this beauty from my vantage point.  I traveled to a children's center (so perfectly) named The Covering that is run by The Raining Season.  Technically, The Covering is an orphanage.  But, as one of the leaders there said, it is so much more than that.  He likes to call it a life development center, and I wholeheartedly agree.  Now that I have seen the ministry there, I believe in this organization deeply and firmly.  There is so much love.  And behind that love there is talent and dedication and accountability and humility and teamwork.  There is a ministry that is more solid and extensive and effective than I could have imagined.  I had no idea, until I saw it with my own "naked eyes," as Pastor Daniel said.

Writing always helps me process, and that is the main reason for this story. But, I also hope that you will see a glimpse with your own eyes, too. And that by SEEING you will believe in TRS's ministry and find a way to support it. They need your support, especially RIGHT NOW!

Beyond that, though, I hope you will SEE the beautiful work of Jesus in Sierra Leone through the lives of these precious people!

Today We Celebrate!

Today was the last day of K's revocation period, meaning that her parental rights are now terminated. I really really need to go on to bed, but this day must be marked on the blog, for heaven's sake! Today's highlights...

1. My eyes were tear filled at 4:30, when I realized that this waiting period is over. And, I realized at that point that I haven't really cried about all this. I think I've been emotionally frozen. I picked Evan up off his play mat and said, "We get to adopt you!" Now, he first smiled at me on the day he turned four weeks old when I said, "I think I get to be your Mama!" (The day K signed the termination papers.) I thought I would get another smile - no such luck.

2. The boys have been anticipating this day, the day "we find out if we get to adopt Evan." We told them from the beginning that there would be a period of time where Evan's birth mom would make the decision if she wanted to give her right to parent Evan to us. That period of time was longer than expected, of course, so the boys were very aware of what today meant and super excited. They each picked out a big brother gift (toy) for Evan this weekend to give to him today. We celebrated by driving through Dairy Queen and getting Blizzards, and taking one to David at work. I can tell that they are both relieved. It is an indescribable joy to a mama's heart to see her sons SO eager to welcome a new brother!

3. Zach's first reaction when I told him that K's decision is final and we get to adopt him was sadness for her. This little boy has such a tender heart. He said, "When she gets older she can have more kids, right? Then, she will be ok." Zach doesn't know the details of K's life, of course, and her age wasn't even the reason for her decision. But, that's how he processed it. I was able to tell him that K has said how happy she is that Evan is with us. I told him that we have talked on the phone and that she has said that God sent us into her life to be the ones to take care of Evan, that she knows he is right where he needs to be. He was relieved. It's amazing that even at such a young age, he gets it - adoption is multi-dimensional. One mom's moment of fullness is another mom's moment of loss. But, we trust and rely on God to fill her with joy and peace, as He already is doing.

4. Now, I will have to unload my thoughts about K and our relationship with her in another post altogether. But, for now let me say that I have been extra conscious of her today. I realized today that I have felt a sense of deference to her, emotionally. I haven't felt free to "move in" emotionally until her decision was final. Maybe it was to protect myself, but I also think there has been a certain feeling of respect. That sense of respect is easier to pull off when the birth mom is volunteering to surrender her parental rights, rather than having them terminated because she won't care for the child. But, in our case, I have felt a sense of partnering with her, as I am now free to fully accept the role of "Evan's mom." Sort of like she is handing the "mommy" baton off to me. (Cheesy illustration, I know.) As my love for Evan has grown deeper today, so has my love for her.

5. As a keepsake from this day, we made handprint ornaments out of air dry modeling clay. This seemed to mean a lot to the big boys. In fact, each boy requested that I make an extra Evan handprint for them to hang in their locker at school. I cannot tell you how amazing it has been to watch my boys' hearts grow during this process. I am confident that the experience of adopting Evan has shaped these two young boys and is a vital part of God's plan to make them the men He plans for them to be.