Seeds of Celebration

Yesterday was just another Wednesday: clothesline hanging, gas bottle delivering, teatime singing, multi-lingual praying, water fetching, baby snuggling, spinach scooping, juice holding, GoGo kissing, and plate passing. In the middle of all of those exciting verbs was yet another exchange of hello’s and goodbyes.

People are always passing through Ten Thousand Homes. They come; they give; they join with their whole hearts in the work and in the lives we are all investing in together. And then many of them have to go. We hug; we become facebook friends; they say goodbye to us and to part of their hearts – completely lost for His Kingdom and those beautiful brown faces they’ve gazed into during their stay.

It was Brittany’s first day out yesterday – fresh out of Texas, she got her first look at the people who will change her life forever.

It was Connie’s last week, and she began her encouraging goodbye speeches.

Avelina’s got another month and is just beginning to let her roots go deep.

Cruiser, Ruth and Sarah had to say their hello’s and goodbye’s at the same time – here for only a week, they came armed with lollipops, zeal and Truth.

I get to tell them the stories of who the children were two years ago and who they are now. I get to FINALLY prove to Connie that Kevin and Given DO laugh. But even more significantly to me, I get to see the seeds planted by each visitor, each new extension of the TTH family. I get to be a part of the cultivating, watering and weeding. I get to send pictures, post blogs and beg them to come back to see the harvest.

I’m blown away this week by those seeds. By those hands and those hearts that come, in their perfect seasons for planting. The Body of Christ is rising up, and today I feel like celebrating that.

Today I’m remembering the 2+ years of celebrations, always with a TTH visitor contributing to the moment and the memory. It matters and it makes a difference.

I think it’s time to enter a season to celebrate THAT.

Is it too much to celebrate celebrating?

I see the seeds of celebrating you’ve planted rising up.

Some of you who are reading this have been here and celebrated these beautiful people alongside us.

Others of you have been part of my life and invited me into yours to celebrate with you – weddings, birthdays, babies, graduations, jobs, or maybe a really good sno-cone.

Some of you I might not even know. But that makes me celebrate BIGTIME that you’d read and join along with me without having ever met me face to face. Thank you!

Celebration seeds, scattered by your unique hands and from the fruits of your unique roots, are being harvested.

Celebrating calls out the good. Celebrating demands joy – even when life is hard.

We know where joy comes from.

I’m becoming a serial celebrator. I bake a ridiculous amount of cakes weekly. Droves of children come up to me to report birthdays and accomplishments, counting on a high-five, a hug, a kiss, a victory dance… and hoping for a cake or maybe a balloon. In this culture, celebrating is a luxury that usually falls to the very bottom of the priority list. Cake is out of the question. Shoot, toilet paper is usually out of the question.

But I love birthdays. I can’t resist them. I carry around candles and matches in my backpack… just in case. Birthdays are a just-because-you’re-here celebration. Celebrating the very existence of someone. They didn’t have to do anything to have a birthday. But it’s a celebration. It’s a celebrating of a part of God’s creation He poured His best craftsmanship into.

Blow out your candles and make a wish… You have something to hope for.

Some kids have never blown out candles. (I’m working on that.)

Some kids have never had to make a wish. They’ve never even known how.

I’m believing in a whole culture of those formally-known-as-orphans being celebrated in Family, around a big chocolate cake with sprinkles.

I’m believing in inflated, smiling cheeks breathing hope over those heavenly candles as His Kingdom Comes.

…on earth as it is in Heaven…

So let’s make this Birthday Week! I want to share a few hope-breathed stories with you – with a little bit of icing on top. 

The 4x4 Scooch

I dream bite-size dreams. 

It's all I'm capable of. 

One day, one step, one scooch toward something higher than I know how to reach at a time.

We all know that if God gave me the end of the story, I would never show up for any of the character-building, plot-developing, relationship-establishing chapters along the way. I'd just sit back with a cup of coffee and wait for it to get good.

In January, God breathed some pretty big two.... maybe three-scooch dreams into me. 

Now, please remember everybody, I'm a one-scooch-at-a-time kinda gal. So I, of course, didn't know what to do with the information. I got overwhelmed. I let doubt win. I remained silent about it.

But He is constant. Even when I waver.

I'll only tell you about one scooch today. 

We haven't really scooched to the next scooch yet. 

But, today I'm amazed by His faithfulness. One step, one day, one breath, one promise and one scooch at a time. So, you better believe another blog is coming some time, some day, and probably faster than I know how to scooch about His other plans, provisions and promises. 

In these January conversations with God, He told me I need more room. 

I need to live like He called me to live. 

Open doors, open space, open arms, open lap. 

He told me I needed to use wisdom and good stewardship with the gifts He gave me. He told me I would need a bigger car to do the job well and to be a good steward. (Apparently He thinks cramming 12 people into a 5-passenger Mazda is not good stewardship.)

I remember a fleeting vision in the back of my over-schooched mind, and even cracking a joke about it later. "God's probably going to have me get something RIDICULOUS like a bright red Condor!"

 Trust me... at the time, it was hilarious. Toyota Condors are used as taxis on the small community roads here. They're GINORMOUS!

At the end of April, He gave me specific words, a specific strategy and told me, "GO!" It's time for that scooch! 

In the month of May, through people who hear Him and respond to Him, God the Father provided enough money for a 7-seater vehicle in cash. The exact one HE picked out in January. A BRIGHT RED CONDOR! 

If you were part of this process with me, thank you. 

Thank you for dealing with my hem-hawing letters, my nervous laughter, my squirmy scooching. 

Thank you for knowing it was about a promise and not a possession.

Thank you for hearing God and trusting that I hear God.

Thank you for encouraging, believing, responding and loving. 

Thank you for celebrating with me the way God provides.

And now, I'd like to introduce you to Clifford, the Big Red Condor. 

Well, maybe we should let GoGo introduce him. (I wish we could have got her immediate reaction for you! This was her calming down from the running, dancing and screaming.)

First things first! GoGo and family went on a joy-ride through Mbonisweni! Little Fiona wouldn't get out of the car for the picture. (It doubles as a playground inside)

And now the most handsome man in all the land will give you a tour of his new moto!

Did I mention it's ginormous?

"Let me show you my seat!"

Tbe King of the Condor

Grammatic Temper Tantrums

It's been 3 weeks of bliss. 

When Lifa's home, it feels like all of God's people, promises and places are in line. 

A preview of heaven - with just a few timeouts and temper tantrums.

It feels like the broken parts of injustice and hopelessness I stumble through daily get eclipsed by Hope, by Home, by Family when he gets to come home to his own bed in our house.

Everyday activities take at least 12 times longer. And are at least 12 times better.

It's easy to be full and thankful when he's here. It's easy to believe God's promises when they are playing the thankful game in the car, calling me Mama, and glowing with the most beautiful Radiance.

Last night, Tuesday night, just before 9, I received message that said Lifa has to be taken back to his dad's on Friday. I had no idea how long he would be able to stay this time. I was so distracted by how full and complete I felt that it really caught me off guard. 

I'm thankful Lifa's a hard sleeper.

I fell apart.

The big, messy, sobbing, heaving, suddenly-I-remember-that-it's-not-always-like-this kind of cry.

A seemingly justified "3 days from now, it's back to being just me here and not knowing where he is or if he's safe" meltdown.

Until my sweatshirt held every tear I thought I was capable of producing. 

And then I got angry.

And started shouting and shaking into my pillows.

"FINISH IT"

I yelled and pleaded and wept bitterly. Begging over and over again for God to finish it.

His Kingdom came to earth. 

Manger style. 

He ascended so the Kingdom could stay.

His Kingdom is coming to earth. 

All the way.

There won't be any broken parts.

There won't be any surprise messages.

There won't be any tears.

There won't be any orphans, hunger, or death.

We'll feast with the King.

We'll be with the Complete Family.

We'll be one. We'll be whole. 

We'll be worshiping and singing and dancing.

I just want it finished already.

I want to slice off that -ing and do away with the present progressive tense forever.

I'm tired of the Kingdom Coming. 

I just want it all the way here.

It is finished. And it is being finished.

I just want it finished.

Every child safe at Home. All the time.

Every lost person Found. Forever.

I know God does too.

And I don't know if it will happen today.

But after I finally ran out of words and tears last night, he reminded me of a picture I had taken this week. 

Lifa helping John Shaw and Eric McMillian as we build Neli's house together.

Everyone coming together, bringing the piece of the Kingdom that dwells in them to a place it hasn't been built yet.

One brick at a time.

One shovel at a time.

One plot of land that's never seen a shade of help being made vibrant. 

From grayscale to full-color. 

From hopeless to hope.

Mixing colors to make Neli's house a beautiful home. 

Neli's house isn't finished. 

It is being finished.

The whole family got in on the painting!

All the promises aren't fulfilled yet.

They are being fulfilled.

One moment, one thank-you, one shovel, one smile, and three weeks at a time.

Letu, the littlest one at Neli's house getting all dolled up.

I can't breathe when I just sit and wait for the present progressive tense to turn into past tense.

So I might as well add a brick to that heavenly city today.

I can't function by just waiting it out through the in-betweens of the little hash marks that show how much Lifa's grown since he was home last. 

So I might as well fill that space with worship and obedience even on the days when I can't see him growing. 

So I will enjoy two more days of dance parties, making bubbles in the bathtub, and basking in the English-speaking, giggle-overflowing proof that the Kingdom has come. 

And hold on to it tight.

And keep building it, speaking it and dancing in it when my favorite dance partner isn't here.

The neighbors, our faithful cheering section who always join us for tea time.

Pray with us. 

Make it come.

Help Him finish it. 

 

  

How The Grinch Stole the 4th of July

Confession: I was mad at America all day on 4^th of July.

I was the Grinch of the 4^th of July.

In America, it was a day to celebrate freedom. The entire country came together around BBQ pits and sprawled out under fire-cracking light shows.

In South Africa, I felt swallowed up by oppression. It felt like things wouldn’t stop falling apart, and I missed the Light show as I stumbled to try to find a few more pieces to pick up.

The emergency calls started just before midnight.

Sweet little Given began fainting and had to be rushed to the hospital.

There’s not enough time or patience in the system here to explain to a 22-year old, SiSwati-speaking mother of 4 with a 9^th grade education what’s wrong with her baby – so no one has yet.

He just spent his second night there. We don’t know why.

Healthy, happy Given on Sunday

Lifa and I said goodbye to a dear friend, Lindsay, as she loaded up 2 months of memories to take back to Texas.

Something triggered in Lifa  - all the goodbyes and all the transitions. He spent the rest of the day fighting me, melting down on me, and remembering all the people who’ve come and gone…. Concluding, of course, that Jesus must live in Texas.

We brought Charity and Kevin home with us for dinner and baths. (They were still wearing Sunday’s church clothes.) They were even more lethargic than normal, absorbing the stress of Kevin’s twin, Given, being hospitalized.

Kevin threw up on the couch.

Charity’s eyes sunk even further in.

But we cleaned them, they ate, and they slept in warm arms for a few hours.

Nandi was safely returned to her mother’s home a week and a half ago. The church intervened; I watch closely; and her mom seems to be coming around, even joining us to worship on Sunday.

Yesterday I found out that she ran away again.

And a friend I admire tremendously, who is serving at refugee camps in South Sudan, wrote me yesterday with pictures and prayer requests. She asked me to pray for the children of Yida – they are dying every day due to malnutrition. The refugee camp is maxed out, beyond an ability to maintain proper hygiene, and there’s a life-threatening emergency every moment.

I woke up this morning, on the 5^th of July, saying, 

“God, is it time yet?”

Is it time for babies to stop dying?

Is it time for homes to stop being too scary to stay?

Is it time for goodbyes to stop hurting?

Of course it is.

He hates it more than I do.

I’m here to stand for Hope and Homes.

To walk it, talk it, live it, give it.

Some days I feel like it’s happening. I KNOW it, see it and get my hands dirty in it happening.

Those are the days when we do it together.

On Fridays at TTH, the whole staff loads up and drives down the bumpy mountain road to Neli’s house. A child-headed household of five sick, struggling, beautiful children have been abandoned and crammed into a tiny room for way too long.

We don’t have enough money to finish her house yet.

But we have enough Hope and Home in us to keep showing up.

We come with what we have, and we give it.

We’ve made miraculous, truly miraculous, progress in four Fridays.

When we all pick up a shovel…

When we all look for and pour out God’s love on that parched land…

Hope happens.

Home is being built. In more ways than one.

As a staff, we’re seeing God in each other and celebrating it.

We’re watching Him build Home together – using our hands!

The 10-year old man of the house, Mpendulo, picked up a paintbrush last week. He wanted to be a part of this Home.

Shy Neli’s sharing her fears and her dreams with me.

Thuli’s asking for help to go on a field trip for school.

We celebrate birthdays with cake and parties.

We work, we feed, we treat wounds, we build Hope.

Home is built in us.

On Fridays, I’m incapable of being the Freedom Grinch.

Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.

And where His people come together, there is the Spirit of the Lord.

He can’t resist unity.

While I was scowling, He must have been giggling with delight as he watched his red, white and blue-clad children join together in thankfulness and celebration.

It’s freedom time. It’s been signed, sealed and delivered. I just have to look up at the fireworks.

There’s freedom when everybody picks up their shovels.

There’s freedom when we know the pieces we pick up don’t pay for our freedom, but can help build Home.

There’s freedom where we are, when we are doing it together.

On the 5^th of July, and on all the days after that, I won’t let the real Grinch that come that comes to steal, kill and destroy have my freedom. Or anybody else’s.

Let’s do what you did yesterday, with an eternal twist.

Let’s come together, unified in the purpose of celebrating freedom.

Let’s wave Zion’s flag high, and sing the Hope-Spangled Banner.

Let’s lay on the grass, or maybe do cartwheels, under the most dazzling Light show we’ve ever seen.

Let’s sing and shout in anticipation for the Grand Finale.

Let’s eat together, and share what we have.

Let’s open our doors and invite people over.

Let’s call down unity and love in every country, under every flag, and on every day.

Let Freedom Ring.

**Since writing this blog, I’ve spent the day in the children’s ward at the hospital. Given was having seizures due to high temperature. He was being tested for meningitis, but after the results came out negative, he was discharged. He was so happy to see us and seemed to be feeling much better. Continue praying for his health!