Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Blessed

By Mary

Blessed are the poor in spirit,

For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn,

For they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,

For they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

For they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful,

For they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart,

For they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers,

For they shall be called sons of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake,

For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.



[life is not about us]



Thursday, April 7, 2011

the left side of the road

I started driving again. I don't have many places to go, seeing as I am now a college dropout and have no job. But still, there's the occassional trip somewhere. Always its a battle of some sorts- to keep on the right side of the road. My mind always leads me right, but when I turn down the road to our house, my heart always turns the wheel tight so that I hug the left.


In my wallet, there's a $20 bill and an even smaller R20 note. The pocket for change is filled with South African coins, and a lone American quarter. In my bedroom sits an empty suitcase. I emptied it almost right away, but never found the willpower to actually carry it down the stairs.


Tonight my mom showed me the baby blanket she's been crocheting. It's almost finished. A beautiful brown pattern with a creme border. For her first grandson. (I know his name and the feel of his hand in mine. In my memory, I can hear his laugh and can trace the shape of the scar on his scalp). Tonight I have so many questions. All kept to myself because I've asked them so many times that by now I know that there won't be an audible answer. Tonight I am just empty, and I miss the left side of the road.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

humidity, homeownership and a little thing called change


By Mary


People may think I'm making it up or hyper-sensitive, but I can feel the moisture creeping back into the air these days--just enough to lay like a think layer of lotion on my skin and make my crackers grow stale quicker. I'm not looking forward to the sticky heat of the summer months.


Our puppy is running around with a plastic cone around her neck, thunking into walls left and right because we had the audacity to get her "fixed". I feel horribly guilty. But she gets payback frequently by using the cone as a weapon, trotting around behind me and smacking my calves with it or slamming it into my face every time she tries to give out kisses.


When we moved into our house, my husband and I were warned that we'd be spending a lot of time at the home improvement store. And sure enough just about every weekend we're wandering through Lowes, thankful for their 10% military discount.


First we decided to paint the trim on our front door, to make it stand out more. Simple. I told my husband I'd get it done in an afternoon. So I taped and painted and let it dry and painted some more. And in the evening when we took it down we discovered firstly that I'm not very good at taping anything other than a straight line. And secondly either that the paint the builder used on the door was not very good quality or we didn't let our paint dry long enough--it started peeling off with the tape. But after about an hour of damage control, the door was done and doesn't look too shabby.


We have a little front yard nicely covered in grass slowly growing green again. And we decided we wanted our backyard to match, especially after all the winter days of Allie's wet and muddy paw prints tracking all through the house. We went to our trusty Lowes to pick up the seed, rakes, hose and sprinkler for taking care of the beautiful grass we intended to have.


"It's easy!" people say. Rake it up, throw it down, lightly cover, water and wait. Five steps. Can't be too hard. Our neighbor even let us borrow his seeder. So after 8 hours of raking, spreading and covering I watered religiously every morning to keep those little seeds of potential moist and ready to germinate at the proper moment. We kept the dog off of it and my flip flops were perpetually caked in mud from moving the sprinkler through the yard of nothing but dirt and grass seeds.


The first week passed with nothing but a possible few blades here and there (which might have simply been the product of our hopeful imaginations) We decided it must need the extra week and continued to wait (slightly less patiently) That was three weeks ago now and the only thing that seems to be growing out there is the dozens of dandelion weeds I keep pulling up.

Our indoor painting projects went better and we have successfully,-without too much mess or mistake-painted our living room, dining room and kitchen.


I don't mind changing things up. I like the newness. But I like doing it my way and having control. I don't like the way life sort of does it's own thing and you have to go along with it and make the most of what you're given. And what's hardest is caring so much about the very things you have to be separated from.


Following God can be costly--but laden with such rich blessings. Everytime I think things couldn't be more wonderful, He proves me wrong. And on the days when my heart is heavy and hurting this is my hope--He is life and I could never have anything more beautiful than Him.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

enlarge my heart

by Alanna

The only prayer I could choke out on the airplane was this.
Enlarge my heart.

Somewhere on the way home, I realized what the difference is. When I'm in Africa, my heart aches for and longs for the people at home. But that heartache never stunts my love. I never have a hard time with the children, letting my heart open up with joy and laughter and love for them. Somehow I can miss home, grieve, and also rejoice. I can love with a full heart.

But somehow, when I come home, the grief cripples me. Last year I could never quite figure out how to rejoice well. I hurt of course. I missed them with all my heart. The same way I always miss my family when I am on African soil. But the hurting didn't end there. It took my whole heart away, and left an empty space where there should have been love and laughter.

My biggest fear in coming home this time, was the empty space. I feared the long lonely nights of dreaming about my children. Of my mind wandering in circles, unable to sleep and only able to cry. I was afraid of not knowing how to love well. So my prayer of the last months has been that God would keep me from this. That with His strength, He would keep my heart alive. That He would teach me how to love well. How to be "perplexed, but not despairing". I want to know how to grieve and to rejoice. I want these children to be a testimony to the power of love. Not that love cripples and makes your heart smaller. Not that the pain overwhelms you. Love should make your heart bigger, more capable of loving. Tonight I am hurting and all I can do is ask God to protect me from the sorrow that threatens to drown me.
To enlarge my heart.

"Therefore, we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day.
For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an
eternal weight of glory
far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen,
but at the things which are not seen;
for the things which are seen are temporal,
but the things which are not seen are eternal."

Friday, March 25, 2011

Filled to overflowing

By Mary

Life follows the same pattern, with little change from day to day, just work and play, serve and relax. And God is here, every day. My constant companion, the giver of every good gift [for from Him and through Him and to Him are all things]

Spring has come, so early on the east coast. Pear trees blooming white and full and potent and daffodils showing their sunshiney faces. They speak to my wandering heart, a reminder of my Father's faithfulness and the truth of His promises [He makes everything beautiful in its time]

Each morning I wake up and realize Alanna is one day closer to being home-and one day closer to saying goodbye to the most precious little heart-thieves I've ever known [even in laughter the heart may ache, and joy may end in grief] And even while I wonder why it has to be this way, my sore heart grows more confident in God's plans for each of those I love so dearly [leave they fatherless children, I will preserve them alive] He does all things according to His plans...to prosper, not to harm, for the glory of His name [Come, let us return to the Lord; for He has torn but He will heal us; He has stricken but He will bind us up]

Me heart is filled with prayers and wishes, love and tears and missing people. But most of all it's filled to overflowing with the daily goodness of my Lord, new every morning [now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen]

Monday, March 21, 2011

time..

by Alanna

I can feel it slipping through my fingers these days. A little boy back from the hospital, edges into the corner of my heart, and of course, God makes room. I wonder how another piece of my heart can possibly stay here in Africa when I leave. I feel King’s scratchy hair under my chin as he pulls my arms around his tummy. He wants me always to hold his hand now, as he falls asleep. So my thoughts fly back to another time, in the same room, sitting between two other beds with my arms stretched, one precious hand in each of mine. Oh how the time slips away. Before you can see the days passing, they are gone. Just a string of beautiful moments, small hands, whispers of “I love you”. I remember thinking when I came, how long six months would be. I would have so much time with them. And here is the end. Now I am counting down days instead of months, and a panic rises up in me and cries “slow down!” But really it is just a reminder to take nothing for granted. To cherish them, to love them and delight in them with every fleeting moment I have left. Really I believe this is the end of my time at TLC. I am ready to go home. But who is ever ready to say goodbye? To leave behind five months of singing them to sleep? To leave behind their hugs and their laughter and the beautiful way they smile? Their little footprints are imbedded all over my heart, never to be erased. And tonight it is ok to ache, to let myself cry for them. But God’s plans are so beyond goodbyes. A friend once told me that in heaven, all time will be redeemed. So tonight I am not only learning to cherish every moment, but I am also reminded of our redemption. Of a future that God in His great mercy has bestowed on us- a future with no heartache, no broken pieces, no tears. An eternity of worshipping and loving the Savior, and never again feeling time slip away.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

surrendering

by Alanna





March 6th, 2011- little one says my name, "anana"
though I will never know to call you anything but son, you will only ever know me by this.

i love you