Lavished Love

Standing boldly in front of the church when asked “ Why missions?” a thirteen year old replies, “if we aren’t going, who will?” There are many proud moments we have as parents.  The goal that’s scored in the game while a quick over the shoulder glance is shot back for approval, the “A” on the math test after all the difficulty, the polite words spoken to the clerk at the grocery store.  But this, by far made my face beam with delight.  With all the “letting go” and the “giving up” we have experienced, God is up to something far more than in just Matt and I. 

People say, you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.  I definitely knew we had something special and was always grateful but was really reminded of this upon arriving home.  God already knew ahead of time that we needed this.  I felt like I had just walked off a battlefield and had the wounds and scars to prove it.  With all the stress, my skin felt like I was trapped in a teenage body full of acne.  I felt ugly on the inside and out.  How was it even possible to share what we have experienced in the last year.  I felt broken. I felt tired, and defeated.  And it was time to come home for a rest, to allow people to pour into us for a change.  It's hard for me to be on the receiving end of things.  There was an outpouring of messages, coffee dates, gift certificates, surprise cottage retreat, date nights  accompanied by meals shared with friends.   Through all this, I felt so encouraged and loved.  We met with old faces and even some new ones.  It is incredible to see how God works in ALL things.  I received beautiful messages from people I don’t even know who are inspired by what God is doing.  And it is all for His kingdom’s sake. 

handmade items from our transition program

A few weeks ago on a Saturday evening we found ourselves surrounded by such a group.  The presence of our Father is not always  found in a loud auditorium with bright lights and flashy props. On the quiet roads of a rural backdrop of endless fields and sunsets is where I met Him.  We gathered  small but strong in our faith.  We didn't know each other but the bond that we have in Jesus is a stronger tie than any earthy thing.  We worshiped, listened and shared.  And at the end of our time, we were surrounded by  the church.  Hands were laid, knees were bent.  We were in the centre of a huddle and prayers were lifted up over us.  One gentleman touched my shoulder and prayed with such authority, my insides literally shook.  It was the most beautiful expression of community.  

I feel ready to go back even though the journey ahead is daunting.  I am ready to get back to our family life as a whole but fear the enormous void of Lilly.  I'm still waiting for the pain to subside.  I walk into a store and when I see little baby clothes my heart drops to my toes.  I am learning to walk by faith and not by sight and God is revealing His lavish love through the support and encouragement of our community.  Thank you for your prayers!

FRC chilli night

Walking Wounded

This past week has been one of the most emotionally, physically, and spiritually draining weeks for our family.  I felt like I was waiting all week for the inevitable.  It almost felt like a death of a loved one.  No one can ever prepare you enough until  you walk through the pain of loosing a child.  Feelings of guilt would overcome me as I wanted desperately to spend every waking hour with Lilly.  We integrated her into the safe house slowly, increasing her time there with each day . Her cry changed and the sound of her voice was more hoarse.  She had diarrhea and no appetite.  She knew her little world was changing around her and she was gripping on to us with all she had.  Her hugs got tighter and lasted longer, her smile and excitement when she would see us, the calling for mom and dad, and the clapping of hands when we would pull up to the house after a stay at the safe house were all signs of her awareness that change was coming.

I am in the process of putting together a little box of some special memories.  The blanket that wrapped her tiny frame when she was found, a dress I made for her, and a photo album full of firsts this past year.  I remind myself that this is for her, but deep down inside I think it’s for me…. Help me work through some the pain.

We have always held her “loosely” in the sense that we knew that she could go at any time.  How it all went down was not expected or makes sense.  Since we have been told that adoption is impossible for us at this moment, I had hoped that walking into the court room someone would be there looking for her.  There had been a case in progress when they took us in to deal with ours.  At first I was confused as there was a man and a woman present.  I think I stared the gentleman down so much, wondering how he could possibly be related to Lilly.. “ She has his nose… yes that’s it… and look at the shape of his eyes.. and oh the shiny black hair with soft curls… it has to be him..”  For a moment I had hope that someone related to her wanted her.  Since no one came to claim her, we asked if transfer of care could be given to us until she was adoptable.   We were denied.  We were told she belonged to the safe house (a registered NGO) within Guatemala.  I say she belongs to God first!

Last night we packed up her little belongings along with her crib.  My room feels bigger and so much emptier along with my heart.   We held onto her as long as we could before I kissed her goodbye.  I feel so angry.  Why did she have to go into a place she has never known?  Matt and I know that regardless of when she left, it would be hard but at least if she was going to another family it would be better than a facility that is understaffed.  I had to pass her off to a teenager when I left.  A teenager that needs healing in her own wounds; not having the responsibility of caring for a baby.

In processing all this , a friend wrote me and shared this. “When God gives you the opportunity to learn more about love, you go for it.”  

And so I keep going.....

beauty from ashes

This blog post is probably one of the most difficult ones I've had to write.  The words are coming to you through tear streaked cheeks and eyes.  I looked in the mirror tonight and find it hard to recognize the face that's staring back.  I never used to look this tired.  Stress has taken its toll and I realized that I have a huge bag under my left eye that seems to have developed over the last few months and won't go away.  The hour drive home this afternoon from the judges' office, seemed like an eternity.  The refreshing breeze through my hair and sun on my face just wasn't enough to dry my tears.  I looked in my lap and held onto the most beautiful baby a little tighter and closer than ever.    " How am I going to break the news to the kids?" I knew I needed to be strong enough by the end of this drive back to face them and comfort them.  They waited all day for an answer.  One that I was not ready to give them..... one I wasn't ready for nor ever would be.

We were never expecting to take care of a baby when we first came last fall.  I didn't imagine in my wildest dreams that Matt and I would ever have more kids for that matter.  I always wanted to adopt but it never really was important to Matt.  It wasn't until a few months ago that I was reminded of a vision God gave me about ten years ago.  It was a vision of a tiny brown eyed, brown skinned, brown haired girl.  I don't know if it was the endless episodes of "Dora the Explorer" but I tucked that away and had almost forgotten about it.  Fast forward a few years later to an orphanage down a dusty rural road in Los Pinos where we met and fell in love with not one but four.   I thought "wow God you really are funny".   I was expecting a little girl around the age of 3 and certainly not more than one.  Since first coming in 2009, our family has travelled back and forth and even lived here for a time.  When we  came back last  fall we were introduced to a tiny bundle; brown skinned, brown eyed, and brown haired... actually black and a full head,and of course we were smitten.

I have wrestled with the unknown of her future and many nights laid at the foot of her crib, praying and crying.  Is it better to have loved than not at all?  I have always said that she belongs to God first... not any institution or government.   Our fist appointment with the judge was back in July. Her file that had no name was given a name... Lilly Grace Wilson.  As the Family/Children Service representative read over her file, the folder of photos was passed around the table.  I choked back the tears seeing the pictures of the police holding her and the place in the street where her little box was found.  Every time we drove through the town where she was found, I would pray for her mom. I don't know what situation she was in that she felt like she had to abandon her child but God knows.


We have been in a whirlwind of events, being told one thing and then something altogether completely different.  My hearing went fuzzy as I watched the lips of the judge move and couldn't make out what he was saying.  The tears quietly fell in the courtroom today and there wasn't a thing I could say.  I wanted to tell the judge how much I love her.  I wanted to tell him that in my eyes, she is ours. I wanted to tell him how I tried to breast feed her in those early days.  All the sleepless nights and how she has graced our family and brought complete joy in a very difficult move for my kids.   There was no transfer of care for us today.  We can't have her in our home anymore.  She has to go to a place she has never really known.  She "belongs" to the safe house and there's nothing more that can be done.   I walked out onto the street today sobbing.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I sat on the curb with my face buried in my arms... In that moment I realized how the girls from the safe house feel when they need a hug and someone was there to give one..... no one came for me... and I felt so incredibly lonely.   I feel like someone is taking away "my daughter mercedes".  Matt put on his best and held it together.  He had too... we had a drive ahead of us.  I later found him standing in the garage tear stained eyed and wishing he could make things better.  I have cried so much I think I have nothing left, and then I walk past her crib and peer in to see her peacefully sleeping and the weeping starts again.   I wish a FACS worker could come over tonight and talk us through this.  To tell me what I am feeling is completely normal and how to handle the next hours, days and weeks ahead.  I wish systems were different and better for the kids here. There is fostering but it is a volunteer position making it hard to find families willing.

I believe God spared her and has the most beautiful plan for her. After all He created her.  He has made beauty from ashes.  And I am so, so thankful for being a very small part of that.    This is a story I need to share.. it is part of our journey.  I wish I knew the out come. I wish I could flip ahead and see the ending.  For us .. for Lilly.  God knows it.  and He is right in the middle of it with us.
Gal 6:9- "So let us not become weary in doing what is good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up".

       If you can hear that, it's the sound of my heart breaking.  

Another Taste of Heaven.....

This past weekend marks the 22nd year that my family has been gathering at the lake.  Along with Christmas, this is my most favourite time of year.  It's an opportunity to play and enjoy the beauty of  Gods amazing creation.  As we were driving to the city to renew our pass ports Friday, I was thinking of my family back home making the long trip up to Thannet Lake.  Piled in a bus with our kids, I tried to hide my sadness.  I silently cried for the time lost.  Going to the lake is my most favourite place to reconnect with God, family and nature.  For me, it is a taste of heaven.  Little did I know what God had in store.

This lady dyed her threads and wove this fabric in 3 weeks

We decided to make a trip as a family. Our fist big trip away from Jalapa that involved a night at a hotel.   A much needed break from the 24 hr a day, 7 day a week work that many of you can relate to in any type of ministry.  It was a time for us to reconnect with God, each other and nature.  I felt like I was trapped in a movie.  Almost like a scene from The Lord of the Rings.  Words cannot even begin to describe the beauty.  We climbed into a boat and took it across the lake to a village where they made pottery and material.  It was the first ever boat ride for our girls.  It was so worth seeing them giggle and laugh as we put the life jackets on.  A lady met us on shore and walked us up through her village to her home.  It was there we saw her tiny workshop.  She showed us her loom and hand made  clothes.  She showed me the thread she dyed and the different patterns and methods she uses. Her place was rustic yet kept.  With our girl's business in mind, we are always looking for exceptional products.  I love knowing where we are buying our product from and seeing the work that goes into it.  There is so much respect for the women and men that work long hours using their hands to create. What's so discouraging is buying.  I totally feel like their time is worth so much more than what it is "sold" for.  With the materials bought, our girls have started their own little project sewing handbags, table cloths, table runners and making jewelry.
It is somewhat overwhelming with all the vendors trying to make sales for the day.  I guess thats why I appreciated visiting this tiny village because it was off the beaten path.  Matt was approached by a little girl to buy some card stock.  After declining a few times, she started speaking english to him.  Matt thought he would test her out a little to see just how much she knew.  He was more than impressed when she was able to keep up in conversation.  We know just how hard it is to learn another language.  Matt asked if she studied and she told him that she worked the market with her mom and picked up english by listening and speaking in the streets.  She is the same age as Mercedes.  With a soft spot and impressed demeanour, Matt bought her cards.
As we climbed back up the mountain to head back to Jalapa yesterday,  I felt like God showed me another piece of heaven and was reminded that He has so much more He wants to show me if I am willing to go.  "Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon the waters where you would call me, take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith would be made stronger in the presence of my Saviour"

our little hershey kiss

Gabe at the shores of San Pedro

these two bought matching hats

My favourite 30 mins of the trip ... alone at the water.

The little girl who sold Matt the cards. She turns 9 this November.

our 5 beautiful foster girls

sleepless night

This girl handed me a crumpled piece of paper
 thanking me for thinking of them

 It's 3:30 am and I can't sleep.  I'm exhausted but can't turn my mind off.  Maybe its the constant pitter patter of the dog that lives on our rooftop or the annoying rooster that seems to think its cool to to sing his wake up call at all hours of the night.  It could be the rustling of Lilly banging around in her crib from time to time in her restless sleep, or the hum of traffic that flows periodically in front of our house when really it feels like its coming through my house.  Or maybe... just maybe this is as quiet as its going to get and this is my opportunity to write some.

I never use to get headaches.  I get them all the time here in Guatemala.  I think it's the constant noise or smell of diesel fumes but it could be the fact that I have 8 children in a cement house that has no sound proofing.  A hushed whisper can almost be heard in the next room.   Privacy is hard to come by and Matt and I have to get creative.  

I cut hair in a school on the outskirts of Jalapa today. The line of kids was endless.  At first they were shy but by the end of my time there they were practically hanging off me.  From the smell and looks of their hair, I'd be surprised if they washed it in awhile.  Full of lice and dust I wondered how many of them actually had water at home.  Some had such brittle hair it felt like it was breaking as I combed through it.  A sign of malnutrition and poor diet. I have seen this before here when we visited families living in the dump. I came home feeling pissed. The director thanked me as I left and handed me a list of names.  About 20 names of kids who came from extreme cases of poverty.  Multiple kid families, single moms with no income, sharing a one room smoke filled shack... barely walls and a roof to call it that.  Dads, if in the picture spending all the money for the day on booze to ease an addiction or block out the pain of their reality, leaving the kids bellies empty.  I was pleasantly surprised to see the kids eating some breakfast while I was there.  The government does provide a program that reaches eligible schools, but only if the school can get the funding do these kids get fed.  Because there is a lot of corruption here most often the money for government programs doesn't always get to the places it needs to go.  What does come through is minimal, but everything counts.  I left feeling overwhelmingly hopeless...angry and sad.  Yet the smiles on their faces were nothing short of thankfulness.  

I struggle with being a materialistic missionary.  I'm ok to go out and roll up my sleeves and get a little dirty  but feel "safe" with the luxuries of my comfort.  What would it be like to risk it all?  I argue in my mind.. yeah but they don't really know any different so they wouldn't understand..... I'm mistaken.... I find joy in good food, hot showers, entertainment and luxuries like colouring my hair.  They have a joy that no material possession can fill or no one can take from them ... really who is the one that is more poor?  I think of the story of the rich man and how Jesus asked him to sell everything he had and come and follow Him.   Jesus walked away sad... how many times has He felt sad over my inability to fully surrender my life to Him.

 Don't you ever wonder why in the world Jesus would step down from a kingdom to live a selfless life on earth...knowing full well what humanity is like.. being rejected, tossed out, ridiculed... yet He still came.. He came to surrender His life for a higher calling.  I sometimes wonder if I knew what I know now would I have ever come.  I would like to say yes but in my selfishness and lack of faith, I know I would have to think and rethink and think some more about it all.  And then there's this tiny voice inside that constantly reminds me of the short term that we have on this earth.