What a week!

Our family had the privilege of serving last week at a Young Life camp in Arizona specifically tailored for teenagers with special needs.

There were a little over 400 people in camp with us split into four fairly even groups--25% were teenagers with special needs from Arizona, California, and Alaska. These needs ranged from physical issues such as amputations, wheelchair restriction, cerebral palsy, hearing impairment and blindness to emotional and intellectual differences. Another 25% of the attendees were volunteer leaders and staff from the campers' local areas. These adults were remarkable in their knowledge of each camper's needs and special qualities. They took incredible care of their friends--physically, emotionally and spiritually around the clock all week. An additional 100 high school students actually paid to travel and attend camp from Lafayette, Louisiana and Jackson, Mississippi as buddies--able bodied campers full of energy and friendship.

It thrilled me to watch these three distinct groups merge into one camp community. I can only imagine how exhausted the buddies and leaders were as they stayed fully present with the often unpredictable demands of their Capernaum friends, but you would never know it from their faces. I was particularly moved watching the 14-17 year old buddies as they left their 'cool' at the camp gate and fully engaged in whatever activities were happening--from Disney sing-alongs to dance parties and messy field games. They were "all in" to create a joy-filled experience for their new friends.

Behind the scenes were another 100 people--some Young Life employees, but mostly volunteers--cooking, cleaning, running sound, lights, laundry, crafts and grounds keeping--all so these Capernaum friends could have an excellent camp experience full of joy and fun that pointed to the extravagant love of our Father in Heaven.

It was a true blessing to see 'behind the curtain' the outrageous lengths people were willing to go to for these kids. Chariots (complete with shock absorbers) were constructed for use in yard games so wheelchair bound campers weren't left out. A forklift was customized to safely transport campers with physical limitations to the top of the zip line and the water slide. Earplugs were available everywhere for attendees whose sensory processing issues made sound a challenge. Multiple sign language interpreters were on site so hearing impaired campers didn't miss a joke! Even the kitchen staff, who had to provide sustenance for over 400, modified their menus for the week to deliver quality meals that respected the gluten/dairy/nut/vegan tolerance levels of campers.

I wept more times than I can count as camp became a microcosm of the life God intended for us to have--so many people with various gifts serving together with one goal in mind. No job felt more or less important. We all had the same objective but knew it required many different types of service. Patience and kindness abounded and we all worked together to say YES to removing barriers between kids and the abundant life of the Gospel.

Each of my children were able to find their unique niche as well. One became a game room staple using the gift of play to connect and forge friendships. Another worked closely with my husband in the medical office, using encouragement and resourcefulness to support hurting kids. Yet another used his own loves of swimming and dancing to find ways to engage campers and leaders. I found myself watching, praying and actively asking "what do you have for me to do or see or say right now, Lord?" (It was such a refreshing, purposeful and expectant way to live!)

Empathy is a characteristic we've been actively seeking to encourage in our children...not sympathy or condescension, but true practice in relating to people in different circumstances. This week delivered constant opportunities to do so in a fun and meaningful way.

All in all this was a remarkable week--restorative, challenging and tremendously encouraging on many levels. I was shown that there are actually many pieces of this week that can translate into my 'real life' at home. I hope to live with a more simplified sense of purpose, a renewed appreciation for community and a glorious picture of  the beauty of the body of Christ working together.

I was reminded that working with people with special needs gives a unique opportunity to know a person's challenges and address them directly. Dealing with 'typically developing' people can sometimes be more difficult because we don't all wear our real challenges on our sleeves. The ministry of daily life is to remember everyone has limps, scars and limitations in this life and we would do well to recognize them with a compassion and a commitment to removing barriers that keep people from the abundant life of the cross.

On Going & Gloves

The older I get the more I realize it is hard to wrap important things up into neat little blog posts. I think it is why I am writing more sporadically. There are BIG things happening in my heart and life--and I want to hold them well. I don't want to oversimplify for the sake of a post. Writing can be so one sided and the most important parts of life generally require conversations not monologues.

At the same time, I need to start recording some of these things for posterity, so hold on to your hats. ;) I hope in the next several days to be a bit more prolific. Today I am starting with Spring Break.

Our family travelled to the Dominican Republic last week as a part of a Young Life Expeditions Team. The purpose of the trip was to go and see what God is up to(and engage as a small part) in the DR. As a family, we were excited to return to the site of our first family mission trip experience four years ago and see how things had evolved.


Our team built this walkway in 2011--so much fun to return & see how it has held up over time.

Sunday - Thursday morning was spent in Jarabacoa at a Vida Joven (Young Life) camp called Pico Escondido. For 6 weeks each Summer this property is used to introduce Dominican teenagers to the person of Jesus through humor, relationship and adventure. Our work team participated in several projects which improved the property, provided additional security and increased capacity so even more students can come and hear.

The majority of the year, the camp is used as a retreat center by other organizations in the Dominican. Pico's reputation as one of the more excellent facilities of this type in the DR keeps it booked up and that income is used to keep the costs of camp very affordable for low income Dominican students (about $12USD per day).

There are a handful of year round paid employees, but work teams keep the ministry's cost low and allow visitors to develop a heart for the work the Lord is doing here through 'sweat equity.'

We reestablished a green house so cuttings from the existing landscaping could be propagated & used around camp.

The men participated in clean up efforts. 

K enjoyed being a part of the painting crew with students from UNC-Greensboro and USC.

On the 2nd and 3rd work days we sanded/refurbished 22 bed frames so 132 additional kids can hear about Jesus this Summer.



 

We got dirty, slept in bunkrooms according to gender, washed our metal dishes in buckets of water, got eaten up by hell bugs and smelled a bit ripe. There was hard work as well as periods of laughter and rest. We made new friends despite language barriers and it was good.

Thursday morning we loaded a van and travelled 2.5 hours to Puerta Plata for the home stay portion of our visit. For two nights 18 of us were welcomed into a 2 bedroom house with an enclosed back garage with hospitality so gracious that I felt convicted of how poorly I steward my own home.

In under 48 hours we served all over the city. By picking up trash in surrounding neighborhoods we were able to model service without an agenda. Being on those streets, looking into the eyes of curious onlookers we were able to 'see' the city and pray for the people there. The high school graduation rate is only 10%. Drugs, sex, gangs & poverty are rampant. The fields are ripe for hope to come and light up darkness.

After several bags of trash collection we went to a home for elderly people. All we did there was touch the residents, look in their faces and love on them. I couldn't help but laugh thinking about a post I read years ago making fun of a short term mission team offering "Hugs for Jesus" in Costa Rica--here we were! Yet, it was a powerful part of the vision setting--instilling compassion and love in our group for the residents of this city where ministry currently does not exist.

I took this Friday when the children were playing a game called "Hands" after lunch. What a beautiful rainbow.

I once read a quote that said "To love the world God loves, you must see the world God sees."


The church inside the school we visited. There was no destruction here, this is simply where they stopped building and decided this would have to do.

We spent Friday morning as guests in a local school. Our group was allowed in 8 different class rooms to present a 15 minute version of club. Our children were quite engaged. Our whole group was involved in the humorous games and skits that broke down walls to allow a Dominican staff person, Julia to present the person of Jesus in a relevant and meaningful way. It was awesome to consider if any of these students would some day sleep on the new beds at Pico Escondido. Would they walk the stone path from 4 years ago while talking to a Vida Joven leader about God's love for them?

We played in the school yard together before enjoying lunch with a few students and members of the faculty who are supporting the establishment of Vida Joven in their community.

No fancy sports equipment here. A stick and a crushed can were all that was needed for a schoolyard baseball game.

Later that day we went to a new church meeting behind a roll up door in a garage like unit to bring supplies and manpower for painting.

That night a few local students came to meet with us in the home and we recapped our trip. Clearly, our hearts had grown to love these people. We caught their vision for local ministry and left there with hearts inclined to pray for and commit to support their mission.

We spent our final day and night resting with air conditioning and hot water at a nearby beach. As I scratched my dozen bug bites and considered the expense, the discomfort and the work my heart pondered the big questions: Did this matter? Was it worth the work of bringing my children here? What was the point?

There are people on strong opinions on both sides of the short term missions discussion. (I hope to write about that at greater length later.) For us, the answer is a resounding YES.

Several years ago I read one of the books that has helped form and shape my life. In one chapter of A Million Miles in a Thousand Years author Donald Miller shares about a friend whose daughter was struggling with rebellion in her adolescence.

“He thought about the story his daughter was living and the role she was playing inside that story. He realized he hadn't provided a better role for his daughter. He hadn't mapped out a story for his family. And so his daughter had chosen another story, a story in which she was wanted, even if she was only being used. In the absence of a family story, she'd chosen a story in which there was risk and adventure, rebellion and independence.”
― Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life    

Ryland & I have long loved travel and service, hoping to make it part of our family's story...but this quote solidified our desire to build a bigger story for our children. Clearly, this has to be about more than a week or two a year--but we committed to try and intentionally build in these 'out of the cul de sac' experiences as a part of our parenting strategy. "Giving up" vacation time to get a little uncomfortable and allow God to expand our worlds has blessed us and changed us. We are reminded whether you are a child of 10 years old, a trained specialist in a different line of work or a middle aged Southern housewife GOD CAN USE YOU in meaningful ways.

On Friday morning God drove this message home to my heart when local staff person, Julia asked casually "Do you still have your work gloves from camp?" I handed one over--a brown, non-descript, medium priced glove we had picked up one week prior at our local tractor supply company.

One hour later my eyes welled with tears as she used it to explain to the Dominican students how our lives are like those gloves. We try to fill them with many things...money, substances, good deeds, popularity, etc...but each of those things are lacking. None of them fill out the glove the way it was intended. In Spanish Julia asked, "What was this glove made for?"

"Mano!" they replied. She dramatically placed her hand inside the glove and wiggled all the fingers and the children applauded and cheered. In Spanish she summed it up. The glove was designed to be filled by a hand. Our hearts and lives were designed to be filled by our God.

"He came that we may have life and have it to the full." John 10:10

I thought of Donald Miller and his encouragement to find and fully live out our stories. I thought of how alive I feel in this season because God is showing me that midlife is a fantastic time to serve him with vigor. God-ordained ministry fills us with purpose. Purpose is invigorating.

 

And today, my purpose is to share with you and to encourage you to step out in some small way to *see* people you may have missed before in a way that reminds you of their humanity and our common need for love, grace & the Lord.

I am just a brown glove...no more 'special' or holier than you. I'd been home from an incredible weeklong experience less than 24 hours when I was apologizing to a friend for acting like a jerk. But the glorious thing about our God is that He can use brown gloves and mouthy women.

Let's let God fill our glove. Let him use us. Like that work glove it often means different assignments. Some are uncomfortable and make you feel ill equipped. Few are glamorous and many 'small jobs' leave you scratching you head wondering if it is merely busy work.

Those brown gloves sanded, carried, gardened and proclaimed the Gospel last week because they were available. Today the hands that wore them are typing encouragement before grocery shopping, tax preparation and putting away four loads of laundry. This is real life...mundane, necessary work that occasionally offers a glimpse of the extraordinary and eternal.

Some tasks are more exhilarating than others, but all can be done to His glory as part of His plan. May we be available, flexible and open to our assignments each day.

Just One

In January 2013 our little crew of five traveled to Honduras for our first family medical mission trip. We had taken the children on other short term missions, but those trips were with groups and with purposes that allowed them to physically participate.

This trip was different. We were sent out by World Medical Mission to a small hospital to work with Dr. Nasralla, who is the primary surgeon despite being in his mid-80s. We took suitcases full of donated medical equipment and willing hearts--but frankly weren't sure what the trip would bring.

At the time, I had been doing a bit of reading about short term missions and how sometimes 'helping was hurting.' I felt conviction that perhaps all the money we spent to get there could have been better utilized if directly donated. I wondered if taking our children along was merely meeting some selfish needs to go, do and see.

In addition to all this internal wrestling, we were in an unsafe area which required the kids and me to be sequestered on a compound for 8-10 hours a day while my husband worked in the hospital. We had brought items to donate to orphans and hoped to spend lots of time serving children while Daddy was operating, but those opportunities were few and far between. There was A LOT of downtime, which was frustrating to those of us who wanted to save the world. :)

Adjusting to the Central American schedule was a challenge for my husband. He is a very productive surgeon--seeing 60 patients in an office day, operating on 6-8 on an OR day. He had hoped that traveling to a medically underserved area would allow him to treat many needy people. That was not the case. Rather than a dozen cases a day, there were about 10 all week. They were complex cancer cases for the most part that the region could not manage. Dr. Scott's breakneck speed slowed to a crawl.

It made for a mission trip that left me with more questions than answers.
What had been the purpose of our visit? Couldn't we have been better utilized?
I realize in retrospect how self focused this all sounds.
We had plans...but God had a purpose. And, frankly, it wasn't very clear while we were there. (Perhaps because we were too distracted by our unmet hopes.)

On the next to last day, there was the story of a precious little guy--a week away from his 4th birthday with a tumor in his belly the size of a Thanksgiving turkey. It was not cancerous, but painful and very dangerous nonetheless. The surgery was tricky because of the size and the potential loss of so much blood.

I was able to scrub in and observe in the OR (my first time ever--click link for post with photos). I was struck by the size of the tumor next to this small sleeping boy. His dark hair and long eyelashes bore a striking resemblance to one of my sons. I prayed for that precious patient as if he were one of my own.

The surgery appeared to be a success and the next day we packed up and returned to the States. As is often true in life, we moved on to other things and I have only occasionally stopped to ponder that trip and God's intent for it. Until this weekend, when my husband received a brief but poignant email from Dr. N in Honduras. It included this photo and the caption: "Your patient with the tumor. His parents are forever grateful."

Look at that precious healthy, growing boy! I cannot stop studying his smile. He is healed, whole and thriving. He was worth every minute of that trip.

In a day and age that emphasizes efficiency, numbers and reach, I was reminded AGAIN that God's economy is about quality not quantity. The Shepherd that would leave the entire flock of 99 to go back in search of one lost sheep is the same God that would send a family of five to a sequestered compound in Honduras so we could see His love and care for just this one.

In retrospect there are other gifts, blessings and lessons from our time there---but 16 months later, this little life is certainly the greatest reminder of God's love and care for the least of these.

And this, it seems, was the lesson God wanted us to take. The point was not what we went to do. It was about what God wanted to show us. The trip wasn't about impressive numbers or productivity, it was about this ONE.

Lost sheep, lost coins and little boys--they matter to Him. And the fact that the same fiercely pursuing, detail oriented God deeply cares for you and me?
Amazing!

**Medical story shared with permission**

Observations Inside the OR

I keep thinking that I am going to have a lightening bolt moment where the summary statement of our time in Honduras comes to me. I really, really like a neat little package with a lesson at the end. Increasingly, God is taking me down paths where it just isn't quite that simple.

I am even having trouble writing about life in general because I want neat & tidy messages, but my heart has a lot of loose ends right now. (I am finding that's actually not a bad thing.)

I realized while flipping through pictures tonight, that I haven't even written about one of the most remarkable occurrences from our trip.  After 15 years together, I finally got to go into the Operating Room and see the man I love in a whole new light...literally.

From scrubbing in, to all of the pre-op preparations, it felt a bit surreal to be finally entering his sacred space.

 The case I observed was amazing on many levels. The patient turns 4 today. His complaint was extreme belly pain. The culprit was a massive tumor the size of a Thanksgiving turkey. 

 

(I really debated whether or not to post a photo of the tumor because I don't want to gross anyone out...so consider yourself warned. If you are intrigued, keep scrolling. If not. Stop now.)

 

 

This entire mass is a benign tumor that was inside the belly of a sweet little boy.

 

Yes, that is ALL tumor.

 

While my children watched Spanish cartoons in the tiny call room across the hall, I watched my husband's skills change this little boy's life.

(This is the 'after' photo.)

 

His resemblance to my R was absolutely uncanny. As my husband & Dr. Nasralla worked carefully to remove this mass, I snapped away with my camera and prayed for that baby as if he were my own. The following day when I was introduced to the patient's grateful father I was able to tell him so.

 

I have always respected my husband's calling. I know the unbelievable amount of hours he works, the research he does from home, the phone calls with biopsy results he is constantly making, the sacrifices he makes to serve...but something about entering that sterile sacred space to watch the delicate work took it to a whole new level.

 

It was all so intense for me..and yet he does this several times a day, 5-7 days a week.

 

It is so clearly his call--what God built him to do. It inspired me to affirm my husband more in his--and to look for ways to do so for others around me in their unique calls.

 

To the teacher whose students are never far from her mind/heart--who is in the zone when she is helping little brains love learning.

 

To the grocery store employee whose smile and general helpfulness is a blessing to people as they go about their mundane days.

 

To the artist whose creativity is a reflection of the incredible creativity of our God.

 

To the faithful friend who anticipates needs and meets them before they are ever spoken, a beautiful reminder that they are paying attention and they care.

 

To the parent who puts their own self interests aside time and time again in order to serve their family with little fanfare.

 

There are pictures of God's gifting in the people all around us.

The body is an amazing thing.

Let's pause to notice and to affirm one another.

It's a sweet slice of joy!

Honduras: Days 6 & 7

Sunday after I posted P had a fairly significant bike crash (down a hill in the pitch dark on a bike with no brakes and no helmet.) We always wear helmets even in the driveway at home, but things are different here and we all get a little too comfortable going with the flow of culture! Thankfully, he avoided major injury and/or an oncoming car from the road at the bottom of the driveway...but he did get a reminder of his crash...in the form of over 50 ant bites on his arms and face. Apparently, when he flipped over the handlebars he avoided a cement culvert but landed in an anthill instead.

The greatest gift from Sunday afternoon/evening was time with the missionary couple's grandchildren. The two boys and a girl, aged 9,8 & 5 live a normal, middle class life here. Because the focus of our recent international travels have been to serve impoverished people,  I appreciated the opportunity for my children to meet and play with children who were different from them culturally, but not because they were 'less fortunate.' These children were bilingual, very bright, exceptionally polite and totally schooled my kiddos in soccer!

Teaching compassion without any condescension is a goal of mine. As our children are exposed to the world I hope they realize different or diverse absolutely does not connotate better or worse. I am motivated by a quote I saw two years ago on a t-shirt that said: "To love the world God loves, we must see the world God sees." As we travel I realize that this isn't just about geography. It is about seeing people, regardless of their package, language or circumstances as children of God.

***Monday***
My husband spent seven hours in the operating room with an extremely complex case. The children and I enjoyed a LOT of down time at home. (My bag of tricks is running very low.) In the afternoon we drove about 20 minutes up into the mountains to see real coffee plantations.

Not sure why they are posing like cranes, other than the fact that they are silly 8.5 year olds.

It was not at all what I had imagined. Entire communities surround many of these farms with concrete block and/or adobe houses. While they certainly aren't built to American standards, they are substantial and a definite step up from the leaky tin roof shacks the most impoverished people here live in.


What coffee beans look like when growing on the plant.

Coffee beans ripe for picking. They actually have a sweet fruity taste in this form.

Letrina de trabatadores (bathroom for the workers) on the coffee farm

One of the other striking things about our trip up into the mountains was seeing young and old participate in the work. School aged children participate in the harvesting sometimes, as the families are paid for the weight of the beans they pick. The more hands picking, the better the payout.

When I was asked about minimum wage standards I was informed that it is equivalent to $350 USD per month.

 

The overseer's small home on the coffee farm was full of animals: three dogs, seven chickens/roosters, two ducks, a turkey

and this cat that thoroughly delighted my children when he stole some lunch out of the outdoor kitchen sink.

 

We were able to watch the National Championship game last night, albeit with Spanish commentary. Hearing the commentators shout "Touch-dooooooown, Alabama!" was quite entertaining. (I was thankful for social media to fill in the gaps on more than one occasion.)

***Tuesday***
My husband operated all day today. He is seeing patients who would have had to wait four months to be seen otherwise...many of them with cancers that need treatment quickly for better outcomes. Tomorrow his cases include a four year old with a complicated abdominal tumor.

Because we are on the compound without transportation (and it is unsafe to leave the grounds on foot) we are doing a lot of this...

Our big outing was a trip to a small neighborhood grocery store. Although I am not known for my culinary skills even in my home kitchen, I felt led to offer to cook dinner tonight for our host. I went to the store open minded...and did the best I could with limited produce, packaging that left much to the imagination (I had to ask two people if I was in fact purchasing beef) and the kitchen of an 82 year old widower. Of course, during the meal our host informed me that the strip steak was a little tough because I had actually purchase ox. Awesome!

Determined to create some adventure, my R insisted his Dad pull one of his teeth tonight. Apparently, his experience in Guatemala last year with Raton the Tooth Mouse convinced him that the mouse pays better than the fairy due to conversion rates.

We are all feeling a little homesick, especially since our school started back today...but we are hopeful for what the next few days here may hold!

Honduras: Days 4 & 5

It is the weekend, so our schedules have reflected a much more recreational pace. Saturday we relaxed all morning before taking an hour long journey to a nearby lake for a scenic lunch.

After 4 1/2 straight days of chicken and rice, we all rejoiced at the chance to eat fish!


Not to worry, ours came from a restaurant, not this roadside stand...but it was just outside, so who knows. Roadside stands offer everything from brown sugar to bread, fish, avocado, pineapple or banana.(Some of these pictures are from previous days, but illustrate our surroundings.)

Although our exploring has been filled with reminders of the extreme poverty that surrounds us, our accommodations on the hospital grounds are very comfortable.

The children enjoy a very American breakfast each day. We haven't been able to get our hands on any bacon, but cheerios and frosted flakes (called  Zucaritos here) balance out the ethnic food that fills the rest of our days. Fresh pineapple is a nice bonus!

I have been to the super mercado to shop twice--which has been quite comedic. There is actually a very western- type grocery store nearby. It is quite surreal to feel familiar and yet foreign at the same time.


This morning we went to church and the intersection of foreign & familiar was illustrated so clearly. The entire two hour service was completely in Spanish. (My sweet children who struggle to sit through the first 30 minutes of our home church's service did remarkably well, but, wow, what an undertaking!)

The service was full of a roller coaster of emotions. Within the first ten minutes they had the entire congregation break into small groups of 8-10 to pray. We were a bit intimidated!

Ten minutes later, I was moved as we sang Spanish words I only partially knew to tunes and melodies I know well. We sing in different words and with different styles about a God whose grace, love and mercy is the same. I couldn't help but let my mind wander to what heaven will be like...so many different people, worshipping one glorious God. We took communion and it made my heart smile. He is indeed the God of nations.

This thought process continued as the congregation spent 20 minutes celebrating Vacation Bible School. As the volunteers and students took the stage in their matching t-shirts, handmade sets reflecting the theme, and songs with hand motions I couldn't get over the similarity to the VBS at my own church each July. They even did a slide show wrap up!

This afternoon has been very low key. Tonight we will enjoy dinner in the home of a missionary family in their 60s who have been serving here for 37 years.

Tomorrow my husband has a very complicated liver cancer surgery, so please pray for him if you think of it. The facilities here are good, but are probably 20 years behind the technology he is accustomed to in the states.

I am not sure what the children and I will find ourselves up to, but another prayer request is for K, P & R. They are such troopers and have been thoroughly enjoying themselves for the most part--but being in someone's home has caused me to have high expectations of their manners and gratitude. (So I guess I am actually asking for prayers that I will have appropriate expectations that are led by the right motives. :)

This is the point in any trip when everyone gets a bit run down and weary of being guests and off of our routine. They are currently enjoying a 'siesta' in their beds reading for a bit. I think I might log off and do the same!