One of the most beautiful expressions of a fathers' love was witnessed in a humble block home. A man in his wheelchair reached up to pray a blessing upon his 17 year old daughter who was in labour. For months she has carried the burden of this unborn child. Every visit we had, her head hung low in shame and tears would flow down her cheeks and every time she looked at her sick, crippled father, the regret only grew deeper. She felt ashamed, regretful embarrassed and an inconvenience. The phone call came in yesterday afternoon that the labour pains had started. I volunteered to be on standby as a support.
I felt so helpless as I drove her down the bumpy road as fast as I could. Coaching her to breathe during each contraction, I was reminded of the birth my children. My husband was amazing in getting me to where I needed to go. And I knew that I would be in good care upon arrival. So far from the reality I faced with this precious young girl.
Upon arrival at the hospital we tripped over a construction site only to find a long corridor filled with patients waiting to be seen. The tiny room where they took her vitals wreaked of urine and feces. I gagged as I stood on the sideline waiting patiently for them to move her along. We were directed to sit in the hall on an unstable wooden bench across from 4 other young teenage pregnant girls. They were there for simple checkups. My girl clenched her fist tight with every labour pain as I gently stroked her back. I was confused. Why was she not being attended too. A lady a few feet away writhed in pain and a young 3 year old boy screamed on the floor clasping his broken arm. I didn't know where to look but down. Dirty cotton scattered the floor and the little curtain that hung in the doorway was bloodstained and grimy. The sound of pounding cement and jackhammer might of drowned out the noise of the pain inside. But I still heard it. It was chaotic and felt like a bit of hell. I had to get out. I couldn't stand the suffering. I stood to look out the tiny window fighting to hold back every tear. "Lord please don't ever let me forget this experience", I prayed. The comforts of home seemed too far away in that moment, but I knew I would climb back in my car and head back to it. But so many people don't.
After hours of waiting, the doctor sent her home. False labour. He said she was too early. With purchased medicine we climbed back into the car to go home. I wasn't completely confident over the diagnosis, but trusted God had His hand on these precious lives. Two days later I received another message only this one with the news that she welcomed her baby girl into this world.
As I visited the other day, I watched the family surround this young mom with joy, love and support. I love that we serve a God that loves us no matter where we've been and welcomes us stained by sin and raises our chin and tells us He dearly loves us.
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
Friday, June 2, 2017
My Normal
I just want to feel normal, I told her as I sat in the airport waiting for my flight. I literally erupted in laughter as my friend responded over text with "you are a Canadian living in Guatemala on donations, with a backyard full of birds and chickens, neighbours that kidnap your dog and hold them for ransom, and you drive around on a moto with perfect posture while wearing a gas mask. You will never be normal." I have often thought back on those words last December as those feelings surface from time to time.
Part of the journey living here in Guatemala has been finding a new normal. A new way of speaking, grocery shopping, preparing food, dressing, exercising, doing church and the list goes on. Balancing the extremes of great wealth mixed with extreme poverty and trying to make sense of it all. My mom was just down visiting and asked the million dollar question. "How do you balance it?" Time for the truth. I am still trying to figure it out. I feel like it's never enough; that I'm never enough. And the truth is, it never will be nor will I. I pray everyday that I am a good steward of the gifts God has given me. He has blessed us abundantly and we have a responsibility to share our blessing with others. I can't feel bad and own the burdens of what I see, but with prayer I can share what God has given to me.
We try and teach our kids this life lesson as well and yet I am learning so much from them. One day while out doing our weekly soup/food drop for 2 of our local widows, Max taught me not only to bless but bring my best. My oldest son has started his own chicken farm project. He is raising chickens, selling eggs as well as birds for meat consumption. A simple poster taped to our front door is his marketing strategy. Week after week his sales were low and he was feeling discouraged after making a large investment. He asked me that day if he could join me for the rounds. To my surprise he ran and grabbed his prized hen. It was so huge it could have had it's own seat in the car. I mean huge like flapping feathers in my face as I drove. As we bounced along the bumpy road, he referenced a biblical story of sacrificing the best sheep. He said that God had given him an opportunity that many don't have and that it was time to give to God what belongs to Him. This was Friday night. Upon arriving home, the door would not stop calling. By Sunday, Max sold all his birds.
Today while I was out doing my rounds I just may have stepped in human feces as I delivered soup, I was chased by an angry goose, I stood in a dark smoke filled shack, held weathered dirty hands, was labelled 'gringa' by kids in the street, and was stared down as I went looking for a lady in the dump community. All of this may sound abnormal or call it crazy but it's my normal and I will never be the same.
Part of the journey living here in Guatemala has been finding a new normal. A new way of speaking, grocery shopping, preparing food, dressing, exercising, doing church and the list goes on. Balancing the extremes of great wealth mixed with extreme poverty and trying to make sense of it all. My mom was just down visiting and asked the million dollar question. "How do you balance it?" Time for the truth. I am still trying to figure it out. I feel like it's never enough; that I'm never enough. And the truth is, it never will be nor will I. I pray everyday that I am a good steward of the gifts God has given me. He has blessed us abundantly and we have a responsibility to share our blessing with others. I can't feel bad and own the burdens of what I see, but with prayer I can share what God has given to me.
We try and teach our kids this life lesson as well and yet I am learning so much from them. One day while out doing our weekly soup/food drop for 2 of our local widows, Max taught me not only to bless but bring my best. My oldest son has started his own chicken farm project. He is raising chickens, selling eggs as well as birds for meat consumption. A simple poster taped to our front door is his marketing strategy. Week after week his sales were low and he was feeling discouraged after making a large investment. He asked me that day if he could join me for the rounds. To my surprise he ran and grabbed his prized hen. It was so huge it could have had it's own seat in the car. I mean huge like flapping feathers in my face as I drove. As we bounced along the bumpy road, he referenced a biblical story of sacrificing the best sheep. He said that God had given him an opportunity that many don't have and that it was time to give to God what belongs to Him. This was Friday night. Upon arriving home, the door would not stop calling. By Sunday, Max sold all his birds. Today while I was out doing my rounds I just may have stepped in human feces as I delivered soup, I was chased by an angry goose, I stood in a dark smoke filled shack, held weathered dirty hands, was labelled 'gringa' by kids in the street, and was stared down as I went looking for a lady in the dump community. All of this may sound abnormal or call it crazy but it's my normal and I will never be the same.
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
Family Matters
The adoption journey for us has been a crazy one to say the least. When we got Lily back in August 30, 2016, I thought most of the difficult journey was over. In reality it separated our family from being complete for nearly six months. Whether it was myself working in Canada to sustain my status with the school board, Mandy visiting family and sponsors, Max studying in high school, Gabe and Mercedes travelling to and from Guatemala with mom or dad, or running fundraising events each time Mandy or myself would have to stay in Guatemala with Lily while the other travelled. This fragmentation of our family was premature. Despite the discomfort created, God used this opportunity to shape us a bit as we were put to the fire yet again.
We are now entering the next set of battles that need to be conquered: the jostling of sibling position; living as a biracial family in an almost pure latino environment; eliminating contact between Lily and the orphanage as she establishes our family as being home; gathering all legal documents to apply for a Canadian visa; and living as a family unit that has jumped into having a family member being in the toddler stage. Regardless of all of life's challenges we know as a family that we are doing this together. Breaking up the troops is not an option, at least until the time is right to deploy one from the platoon for their next set of battles into adulthood. We give praise daily for our family and what lies on the road ahead. To God be the glory, for the great things He has done and still is doing.
We are now entering the next set of battles that need to be conquered: the jostling of sibling position; living as a biracial family in an almost pure latino environment; eliminating contact between Lily and the orphanage as she establishes our family as being home; gathering all legal documents to apply for a Canadian visa; and living as a family unit that has jumped into having a family member being in the toddler stage. Regardless of all of life's challenges we know as a family that we are doing this together. Breaking up the troops is not an option, at least until the time is right to deploy one from the platoon for their next set of battles into adulthood. We give praise daily for our family and what lies on the road ahead. To God be the glory, for the great things He has done and still is doing.
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