Kids' Club

A few weeks ago, along with some friends here, we started going into a village once a week to do a kids' club. We are so excited to be a part of this amazing opportunity. 

 Isaiah and one of his best buddies helped us hand out invitations to all the students at the school. 

It's safe to say, they think our babies are the cutest.

But this kiddo. I mean, it doesn't get much cuter than that little fella in the back. 

Yes, take your shoes off before entering the classroom. What's tricky is figuring out which ones are yours when it's time to leave.

And the school water fountain... I think.

On the first day of kids' club, we think we had over 70 kiddos. It was, um, intense... and yet so very good. The second week we only had about 30 inside with us and about 25 outside running around the soccer field with Brian and another guy. 

Every week we do games, 

a story from the Word, a memory verse, 

and a craft. 

Kate is such a big helper. She passes out supplies, plays games with the kids and helps us clean up everything. I love that girl's heart!!! This is a family affair. Isaiah gets chased around by the older kids. Kate and Thomas join in on the games and help where they can, and as a family we pray that the Word of truth that these kiddos are hearing every week will yield much fruit. I believe it will! 

Our hope and desire is to see the Truth go forth in power through this club into the families of the children, the hearts of the teachers and every home in the village.

Will you join us in asking the Father for that very thing???

Try Something New - Hairy Fruit

Peaches are fuzzy. Apples are waxy. Cantaloupes are rough. Watermelons are hard. But this...

 This prickly, spiney fruit looks kind of like a bald man with hair plugs.

Rambutan. 

I found it pretty funny that when I googled it, wikipedia informed me that in Malay-Indonesian cultures it is called rambut which means "hair." And in Vietnam it's called chomchom which means "messy hair." See, I wasn't too far off when I compared it to a bald man's hair plugs. Messy hair fruit. Yes!

It's not a fruit I would think anyone would ever even attempt to eat. But here, it is in season and for sell by the truck-load. So we picked some up. It's been a while since we have done an official "try something new." So this looked like it would be a great way to get back into the swing of things. I pulled off on the side of the road and bought a bag full. I probably shouldn't have bought a whole bag full, but for all I knew we may have been on the edge of striking tasty fruity gold. 

Kate examined it thoroughly for us, and Brian chopped into it.

The inside is kind of squishy, like a juicy stress ball. 

It was after Isaiah shoved the whole squishy middle into his mouth that we realized there is a pit. So we had to sweep it out of his chubby cheeks. 

Thomas decided he wasn't a fan. I think the final vote was 5-0, the winning vote deciding that we did not strike fruity delicious gold. Oh well. It really wasn't bad, but for now we're gonna stick with bananas and apples as our go-to fruits. We enjoyed our hairy fruit adventure.

Our try something new endeavors have fallen flat too many times. But maybe next time we will find something we just can't live without. I hear rotee is amazing. We'll see...

Just a Glimpse

This is one of the views we see every day as we exit our neighborhood. Rice patties are filling up with water this time of year. I need to sit down and study the ins and outs of rice farming. It seems like muddy and messy work for sure. But the fields are so pretty.

More rice. These fields are around almost every corner.

Banana Trees... I think.

And our mountain in the background is just gorgeous.

To be sure, this country we have found ourselves in is beautiful. We are constantly discovering new flowers, lush fields, and even waterfalls.

Up here in the mountain region, waterfalls are easy to find.  Brian took the kids on a little before school starts back campout. I stayed home because they needed special time with their daddy (and it is already hot enough in my house in front of my fan, I like my comfy bed and the army of jungle bugs would have made dinner out of me). They had a blast, but the word is, no matter how far into the mountains you go, it is still hot and humid. This is why the nationals all looked at Brian like he was crazy for going camping this time of year. "Wait until December." they said. 

"Oh, we'll be fine." Brian said. He learned his lesson.

But there were waterfalls and swimming. Kate and Thomas had such a good time. I don't think our small people feel the suffering heat as much as we do. And with a view like that, I think it was worth the trip.

And discovering beautiful waterfalls and rice fields is only half the fun. The grocery store is always an adventure. I find something new every time I am in there. Like these little beauties. Candy? Nope. Cookies? Nope. Buffet Fish Balls? You betcha. Appetizing, right? Before you get too grossed out or judgey, just remember our dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. We eat funny shaped meat in America, too.  

I will leave you with this picture of a worker on her break. After I pick Thomas up from school, I take a short cut down a narrow village road. And this is the sight I see. The people taking a break huddled under umbrellas or squatting in circles holding their bowls of rice (and maybe buffet fish balls). They are beautiful. And I love driving by, looking into their eyes and seeing them smile at me. They are fearfully and wonderfully made and so loved by their Creator. I pray that one day, I can tell them how very much they are loved. 

Until that day, I will pray. And thank my great God for every new view, every new face, every field being sown. He teaches me so much through every glimpse. His glory. It's shouting at us. It is truly an immense privilege to encounter and see God's wonderful creation in this part of the world. And...

 I am grateful.

Two Down and One at Home

This little 'stepped-straight-out-of-a-Tom-Sawyer-book' looking kid is now a kindergartner.

 And on his first day, there were no tears--not even from momma. Although I did have to fight them back at one point. While I will miss my wild man immensely when he is gone, we were all ready for this day to come.  He was so excited Sunday night that he proclaimed, "I'm going to wash all my body parts for school tomorrow." Sure this brought up other questions, but at least we know we sent him off to school clean. Bless us all.

Isaiah just couldn't begin to walk out the door without having his backpack too.

He stepped right out of a catalog. What is that dapper stance about? He's not supposed to be this studly yet. 

My little handsome man.

And this one is off to 2nd grade and couldn't be more excited. She's the "I love school, I love to learn, give me more homework" kid. Teachers may love her (maybe). Her friends may want to smack her for asking for more work.   

When did she get so big and start looking so much like a little lady. My beating heart!

This little fella followed behind his brother and sister wearing his big brother's flip-flops because that is not a battle worth fighting. He was ready to have his first day of school, too. Too bad he will have to wait several more years for that day. 

This picture did not come out like I wanted it to, but still... Those two and their love for each other.  They always look out for one another. I hope it stays like this forever.

This was the moment that got me. When they called the children to pray and my big boy bowed his head and closed his eyes, this momma about lost it because he is so big and because I didn't have to flick his ear to get him be quiet during prayer and because all of the my-baby-is-growing-up feels. 

Walking to his classroom. So brave.

My beauty.

And just like that, the first day was over, and we are almost finished with the second day. We are so thankful for the awesome school that they get to attend here. It is so beyond fantastic. And their teachers who volunteered to be here in a foreign country... who raised their own support so they could serve our children... That's pretty heroic in my book. So pray for those precious teachers because well, obviously, teachers need prayer. But teachers living and teaching in a foreign country need ALL. the. prayer!!! We will certainly thank our great God upon every remembrance of them, even over homework folders. 

No Matter How Small

I had a dream last night. In my dream, we were in the states meeting family for lunch, and planes were literally falling from the sky. It was said that politicians had turned off air-traffic control because they could, we guessed. Brian and I were appalled. People were dying right before our very eyes, and no one in the restaurant seemed to care. They all knew it was happening, but most said, 

“We can't really do anything about it.” 

“Eh, politics.” 

“I don't know anyone flying today, so it doesn't affect me or my family.”

“It's too hard to look at. I'm just here for lunch” 

Their responses went on, and Brian and I were out of our mind frustrated at the response. I normally don't remember my dreams, but this one is as vivid as the blue colored sky. I could apply it to various areas of my heart aches right now, but how perfectly does it fit into this ongoing 40 year old battle for the life of babies?! 

We can't just call it politics and look away. We must look it square in the face even though it hurts our hearts and makes us ache. It does affect you. And we can do something about it. We must! 

One of my heroes, Corrie Ten Boom, helped Jews escape from concentration camps in Nazi Germany. She ended up becoming a prisoner in one of those very camps. She lost almost her entire family to this evil. She suffered immensely. She and her family certainly knew the cost when they started hiding Jews in a secret wall of their home. They knew they could be caught, imprisoned, killed. They didn't turn their face away from what was happening, and they could have easily ignored it because they weren't Jewish. It didn't affect them. Instead they engaged in the fight head on. They showed love that has courage, strength, and sacrifice. 

We can engage in this fight, this holocaust, in love with courage and strength. Love DOES. And so I am promising to do something more than just shake my head and say America's going to pot. A couple of years ago I wrote THIS, but it needs so much more. So, here are some of my thoughts and action steps:

1. Women, I love you. I am one of you. We are strong. We are intelligent, capable, fierce. We love hard. We go for our goals. Some of us are genius scientists, some CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. Some of us are phenomenal, world altering cooks. We can lead conference meetings, change diapers while reading to a two year old, write novels and teach children. We can manage a home like a boss. We can fight in wars and work construction. We are amazing. And we need to stay healthy, but allowing for abortions to remain legal in our country does not keep us safe and healthy. We might think it makes us happy, but cutting a life out of your body will not make you happier. More successful, maybe? More in tune with your own desires? But happier and healthier is just a lie you have been fed. You are smart. Intelligent. Do some research. Ask some questions. Dig deeper. Don't turn your eyes away for the sake of “women's health.” And yes, think about women's health. But think about all the little baby girls who could have been amazing successful women if only it hadn't been an inconvenience to the women carrying them. Yes, those little girls matter too. 

2. To those of you who mourned Cecil, the beloved lion. You are precious. Do not read that as sarcasm. I mean it. It is good to care about Cecil. It is good to care about animals. I, myself, am not the biggest lover of animals. I'm not even really a pet person, but bless those beautiful, amazing, hairy or scaly or jumpy little creatures. And bless those of you who love them so much that you cry big elephant tears when they are hurt. You are kind and merciful. And because I believe you are kind, I am asking you to, just for a minute or two, consider the babies, the human ones, too. They matter like Cecil matters. All life matters. Little, big, hairy or covered in skin. But let me add this: humans, these little babies, they are different than Cecil because they are made in the image of God, and the Bible says they are being knit together in their mother's womb by that very God. I realize that some of you don't believe that either, but it doesn't make it any less true and it doesn't make that baby that our country is deeming a product for research any less precious. Let's fight to protect it, each one. Let's cry big fat elephant tears over every one lost. Let's mourn that they were brutalized and destroyed. Let's honor each one like we would honor any life.

3. There are people fighting the fight in real ways. You can fight with them.

• First Choice Pregnancy Solutions  and pregnancy care centers all across the country are fighting to care for women who are in need of good health care, who don't have the resources to financially support a child, who were abused, or who have been abandoned by the father. They are fighting for the women by offering practical support, ultrasounds, counseling, adoption resources, groceries, even baby showers. Good, loving, sacrificial things are happening within and without of the walls of these centers. Women are feeling valued, cared for, loved. And they are choosing life because they are given practical ways in which they can. Women are hearing heart beats and falling in love with life. Give of your money, time and talents to support these great places. Life transforming, good things are happening here. It would be worth your investment. Google it and find one in your area.
• Loving amazing people who are willing to adopt children, including those with Downs or other handicaps, are raising money to take sweet babies home. This is a big part of the fight. If we truly value life, we must offer our lives, our home, our family to one (or many) of these sweet babies who need a family. Sign up for a foster class in your state. Host one in your church. Look into adoption agencies. Pray. And if you can't adopt, give to someone who can, like this lady and her husband who already have five and are bringing home number six in the near future. LOVE!
• We also need to offer our lives, our home, our family to that brave girl who chose life but may have lost everything in the process. Church, you need to get this better. Get involved in your local pregnancy care center. Volunteer to help these women. Give them a bed to sleep in. Help pay the rent on their apartment. There are real ways you can help these ladies. We must.
• And that teenage girl who got pregnant out of wedlock from your church's youth group. Love the mess out of her. Don't ever, for even a split second, let her feel judged, shunned or alone. 
• And that girl who chose abortion, let her know you love her wildly. Take her for coffee, invite her into your home, make her up a bed if she got kicked out of her house for making this decision. Walk with her, listen to her, laugh with her. Love her. Because y'all Jesus loved you and me and our hearts were fiercely dark and full of sin, but God.... Be her grace-stepped-in person. Point her to the lover of her soul. And love her deeply and genuinely—no strings attached.
• Call your senators. Yes, you can do that. They supposedly work for us, right? Let them know, kindly, what you think about Planned Parenthood and that you thoroughly dislike your tax dollars going to support it. It's time it stops. We can do better at offering women good health options while not killing babies. And after the last 24 hours, it is clear we are going to have to be loud to make our voices heard. Money speaks louder than morals, and most of us aren't rolling in the dough like Planned Parenthood. So y'all pray for them to be haunted by the decisions they are making (or not making) in the name of freedom. 

4. Take this seriously. Read THIS and tell me they aren't babies we are killing?! These are babies. I carried four in my womb, and three to term, and I know they are as real and as human as I am sitting here right now. Fight for them like you would your own child. Fight for them harder than you would a lion or sea turtles. Because “a person is a person no matter how small.”

Y'all really, I know this fb trend of videos and articles will blow over. We will stop looking at it and thinking about it every day. Some of you already have because it is too heavy. We will go back to our day-to-day and forget that somewhere there is a young woman who thinks this is her only option, somewhere there is a baby being torn to pieces because of science or convenience or career or college. So please, please don't look away. We can fight in a loving way. We can hold the hands of scared women. We can pray. We can have good, productive conversations on the issue. But we can't look away and say it isn't our issue. 

It's heavy. I don't like the weight and I can't bear it. But somebody must because these are babies, little tiny humans who barely weigh anything, and their lives are worth the weight of my time, my energy, my prayers, my fight. I can't look away when planes are falling from the sky in my dream and I won't look away now. It's been said on the social media world, and I will say it again, “This is our Wilberforce moment.” And as he, the abolitionist, said, 

“You may choose to look away, but you may never again say that you did not know.”