What Wednesday Looked Like

It's not that there's some super-sneaky-supernatural-better-than-there beauty about South Africa and these children. Don't get me wrong, I think they're among the most precious and perfect in the world. But it's that sometimes we look for that faraway, extra intense, poverty-level kind of glory. 

These are my Wednesday afternoons. Sweaty, dirty, there's-frog-poop-in-my-house, and the-water's-not-working-again Wednesdays. And it's just as easy for me to see my Wednesday afternoon like you see yours in whatever you do on Wednesday afternoons. So I prayed that, as we opened up for our first feeding of the year this Wednesday, I would see Wednesday the way He does. And see them the way He does. And LOOK at what I saw. (Please at least watch the video at the end... it's worth it.)

I pray for your Wednesdays too. And for your todays and tomorrows. And that we see with heaven's eyes - the ones that will be wiped tear-free and beholding perfect glory for eternity. 

Don't judge me...

What I Didn't Know Four Years Ago

It’s that time of the year where we rev-up, remember and dream big.

At Ten Thousand Homes, we’ve been looking back and everything that happened last year, all that was “accomplished”, and can see the miracles God did in retrospect. We are just a weeeee-little group of full-time staff. We could not have done all that was done by our own strength.

We may not be able to physically see God, but in the numbers, the photos, the smiles, the homes, and the strong-standing relationships, He’s tangibly real.

(Click here for a photo review of the year!)

Today is a day that always causes me to look back. I didn’t know what I was stepping into when I stepped onto a plane four years ago. FOUR YEARS!

I don’t know what I’m stepping into today as we seek God for and start running into 2014. So I learn in retrospect and I lean in hope.

January 12, 2010 was one of the CRAZIEST days of all of my 29 years. I was going on a “trip” to South Africa.

I’d been up half the night before packing between “WHAT AM I DOING!?!” texts and bites of that one last Chinese binge.

The next morning, at the foot of my cousins’ stairs, I FRANTICALLY weighed, packed, unpacked. The extra towel, the vitamin C and assorted other treasures just wouldn’t make the cut… I was sweating and on the verge of losing it. (Probably didn’t have all that much to do with luggage tags and weight.)

And then my ride came. My lifelong best friend with her mom and brand-new adopted baby, as well as my best friend from college who’d taken the day off on her anniversary (HAPPY ANNIVERSARY JARED AND MELISSA!) to send me off.

I had to say goodbye to my family to get in the car with my friends. Tears flow even now when I remember those hugs… and practically slamming the door in NaNa’s face because I couldn’t let her see me break. While luggage was flying and I struggled to keep myself together, I remember her saying, “This is what it’s like when you’re getting ready for a wedding. You’re just going on your honeymoon with Jesus.”

I cry-called my mom in California to say goodbye. I cried to the AT&T lady as I canceled my phone service.

And then there was the airport. EVERYTHING that could have gone wrong DID. Luggage was rolling in the middle of busy roads. We had no idea where we were going. It’s apparently frowned upon to enter a country without a visa and with a one-way ticket. So much chaos, and so much laughter. I was with the PERFECT people for that misadventure. The pain of leaving dissolved with laughter and memories that still make me smile.

I never came back from that trip. Now I go on trips to see those people I love so deeply.

I didn’t know what kind of goodbye I was saying that day. I had no idea that my Beloved was carrying me across the threshold of that airplane to live with Him in a new way and in a new place.

I didn’t know that the sweet, adopted baby I kissed and the forever friends-turned-family I was squeezing at Intercontinental Airport in Houston, Texas were releasing me to kiss more precious, adopted-by-the-Father babies and make more forever friends-turned-family. 

On January 12, 2010, I didn’t know about covenant love that doesn’t require birth certificates or anything binding because Family lasts long after documents, diseases and this earth passes away.

I didn’t know about finding joy and hope in suffering – in broken homes, hospital visits and throughout a land ravaged by HIV.

I didn’t know about the strength of the Body of Christ – a church that loves me for real all the way from Texas, people who come and spend themselves for people they’ve just met, and a local church that doesn’t give up.

I didn’t know that I could never grasp the full love of the Father, but I could get a lot deeper in it with dirty hands and a broken heart.

I didn’t know that I would still be leaving Texas airports with tears every year, still balancing frustrations of multi-cultural living, still in over my head with things that I don’t know four years later… 

And that it would all be worth it.

Please look at what I have my hands full of.

What I know today is that if I did know (and I mean really, really know) all of that when my alarm clock went off on January 12, 2010, I would not have even walked down those stairs. I wouldn’t have had the faith, the strength, or the endurance.

One day, one step at a time. I’m still walking into I-don’t-knows, and it’s still hard.

But every toe pointed toward His I-don’t-knows leads you toward sovereignty and the freedom of following the Father, one step at a time. The kind of freedom-stepping that leads to dance parties and joy when it doesn’t make sense.

You may not dance every day. But on the days you do, it’s good.

This is my pep talk for both of us.

When your feet hit the floor in January 12, 2014, you might not be heading downstairs to pack, repack, and start a journey around the world. But you’re stepping into something that’s been planned by True Love himself since the very beginning. There’s intentional love woven into unknowns, tears and laughter. Maybe even miracles, whether you see them in retrospect, in real-time, or choose one that’s already been paid for - like forgiving someone as you’ve been forgiven.

At the beginning of 2014, I don’t know anything except that He is good, and He works for the good of those who love Him.

We just have to take one step at a time toward Him.

2014: The Year of Pizza and Noodles

On New Year’s Eve-Eve (December 30^th), I learned that Lifa does not know the English word for “throw-up”, or any other time of human body projection for that matter. It was a 2am lesson learned with all five senses and everybody’s gag reflexes fully engaged.

I’ll spare you any further details... Let’s just say it was a long night.

On New Year’s Eve, I laid that sweet, recovering boy down at 7:30pm and wondered what to do with my attitude, my perspective and my evening on my very first ever New Year’s alone.

I tried my hardest not to let thoughts sway in the direction of feeling lame or lonely.

It ended up being a just-right kind of night. I put my headphones in so I couldn’t hear crawling creature sounds, the party music from the neighboring communities and Lifa’s snores; I busted out the fancy dark chocolate; and I let my Savior set the tone and pour His Truth over me for 2014. Afterward, I reminded myself that I AM NOT LAME for flicking off the lamp at 11:53pm.

The peaceful, tone-setting, Truth-writing way 2013 ended was not exactly how the wee-hours of 2014 began.

The first screeching home alarm jarred me out of bed at 1:30am, and it was only the beginning. We had some major security issues last night. From 3:00 -5:30am, I stood guard from within the safety of my security bars while a hired security guard stood outside of my house.

Most important fact: WE’RE ALL OK!

And, in truth, I started 2014 with my TTH family around me for an unexpected gathering and a team of prayer warriors in America lifting us up.

At 6:30am, Lifa bounded onto my bed actually saying, “Mama! It’s a great day! I slept so well!” 

WHAT KIND OF SIX-YEAR OLD SAYS THAT!?! 

I whined that I was tired. 

He suggested closing my eyes next time it’s time to sleep. Good one, Lifa.

But in those morning hours I realized that the shaking of my heart and state-of-mind were very real all night long. They were also in direct opposition to the Truth of my God the fortress and His unshakable Kingdom.

In the very moments the calendar was turning, I had to choose what I would turn to.

Before I went to bed on New Year's Eve, I hung up 2014’s promise on my wall:

“Yet I am writing you a new command: its truth is seen in him and you, because the darkness is passing and the true light is already shining.” 1 John 2:8

I will not give the first breath of 2014 to fear. Perfect love casts out fear.

Darkness flees as soon as Light shows up.

No thief can steal my joy. It doesn’t come from this world.

Still, I needed to do something with my heart. Even more than I need this fortress of steel bars, I need one of thanksgiving and praise. I needed to walk in the opposite spirit of what the dark night was saturated with.

We enter His courts with thanksgiving and his gates with praise.

So Lifa and I made a banner of thanksgiving for the gifts God had given us in 2013. We let colors run wild and thankfulness abound. Creativity flowed and hope rose. Even my exhaustion got washed away.

Lifa giggled and danced as we read over and hung up all the things we are thankful for. We decided to start 2014 by giving our Maker a gift since He’s given us so many good gifts.

I asked Lifa what he wanted to give to Jesus this year. First he said pizza… but then we determined that’s what he wanted this year. Finally, he decided to write Jesus a storybook.

He dictated.

I wrote.

He illustrated.

It was so sweet, so genuine, I could hardly stand it.

All the darkness of last night truly did pass as Light flowed from Lifa’s eyes as the words from his heart came to his mouth. A few times he had to stand up and dance out his emotions as he screamed, “I’M SO GOOD AT THIS! JESUS IS GOING TO LOVE IT!”

There’s a video of Lifa’s play-by-play of the book he made, but, just in case you don’t have 6 minutes to spare, here’s what he wrote.

A Story for Jesus.

For: Jesus. By: Lifa.

Jesus, I love you.

God the Father, I want to be with you.

Holy Spirit, I miss you.

I want to give you a kiss!

I want to give you a hug!

Thank you for giving me paint.

Thank you for my mom being a good mama.

I want to give you some pizza and noodles. And Sprite.

The end.

The best part was watching his joy bubble over as he illustrated. And then when we watched the video together, he followed along cheering and chattering with himself. So much genuine joy. In the most simple and sincere gift-giving.

The one who comes to steal, kill and destroy tried to steel up 2014 in a prison of fear. The One who comes so that I may have abundant life came to release the captives and set the prisoners free.

The rest of the day was filled with Spiderman slip-and-sliding and making our own (delicious) pizza and ice cream. Lifa couldn’t stop talking and dancing and shouting about how great the day was. And I couldn’t stop smiling, agreeing and thanking God for the first day of 2014. It aligned so perfectly with His promise.

“Yet I am writing you a new command: its truth is seen in him and you, because the darkness is passing and the true light is already shining.” 1 John 2:8

Let His true light be seen in me this year in all circumstances. Darkness is passing. He’s already shining.

Now go have some pizza and noodles, Jesus. 

'Twas the Day Before Christmas

‘Twas the day before Christmas, a perfect summer day,

We’d cooked, and we'd cleaned, and we were ready to play.

The stockings were stuffed with sweeties and love,

With hopes of turning hearts to the greatest gift from above.

We dressed all the children in their brightest and best,

Not knowing our joy would soon be put to the test.

I’d already written on the rock a bold proclamation,

Choosing God’s joy in all is my newest revelation.

I pulled into Dwaleni and heard no children chatter,

I sprang from the Condor to see what was the matter.

Mama Charity came out and said Busi’s brother was sick,

To go to the hospital – and to get there quick!

I made that too-familiar drive around that same old, big mountain,

Just in time to hear he was gone, to receive Busi’s tears like a fountain.

I wrapped arms around her and started to pray,

And my heart sunk thinking, ‘Why did I write about joy today?’

While we talked to the Father who gave His own Son,

I knew in a moment we must not get undone.

More rapid than eagles, His peace surely came,

As we leaned, and we trusted, and we called on His Name.

“Now Father! Come quickly! Your children are crying!”

“Come joy! Come peace! Even while sick and while dying.”

From the words on that rock to the sorrow of our hearts,

Can you really come and bring holiness to all of these parts?

As Busi stayed to mourn, we brought her baby away,

Sweet girl will still have Christmas and for her mom we will pray.

So back to the cottage, the Condor it flew –

Our hearts not quite shining as we wanted them to.

And then, like a whisper, I remembered what is True,

I opened the Word and knew just what to do.

I gathered the mamas and cried as I read,

He’s dressed us for eternity; it’s what His Word said.

Cloaked in a garment of praise, not a spirit of despair,

He offers the robe of salvation; it’s been waiting right there.

A bundle of peace exchanged for the cross on his back,

In His eyes, He sees a Bride. There is nothing we lack.

His eyes- for His Beloved; He’s dressing Her to marry,

Will she put on Her crown, Her inheritance to carry?

We had to take action, respond to His outstretched hand,

Because this baby King brought access to our Promised Land.

We prayed for Busi’s family, and then we decided to choose joy.

To celebrate the coming of this life-saving baby boy.

We put smiles on our faces and gathered all those curious little eyes,

And we pulled out the very most wonderful surprise!

It was time to play dress up, and we were keeping it real.

Adorning ourselves in delight, no matter how we feel.

Like a wink from our Healer as we put crazy wigs on our heads,

We knew, come what may, we have nothing to dread.

His Word rang true, and we went straight to joy’s work,

Light filled all our hearts, left darkness no place to lurk.

We shared a great meal and remembered how love grows,

With hugs and with kisses, our spirits all rose.

The kids sprang to their feet full of sugar and cheer,

And that when I knew it was time to get them out of here!

I’ll always remember one thing from this Christmas Eve.

I’ll trust His higher ways; His path I won’t leave.

Every day from now on, I will command my soul to rejoice,

Because Christmas is about when True Love made a choice.

Merry Christmas with love from South Africa!

Joy Bubbles: Lessons from a little boy

Lifa’s home!

And the cottage has turned into a comedy club.

Jokes, dances, and giggles are bouncing off these same walls that, just a week ago, I felt like were closing in on me.

This house feels different. I feel different. My perspective and countenance has done a complete turnaround as my arms have wrapped around this sweet little boy-giant. I’ve never been so thankful to be so tired, to wash so many dishes, and do so much laundry.

This little cottage felt barren and broken last week… or maybe that was me.

This week, it feels like it’s bursting with life, joy and baked goods!

There’s been bumper car driving...

Cookie rolling…

Cookie decorating…

Cookie eating…

 

LOTS of dancing…

Even a little tooth losing…

And lots of bubble-bathing.

Laughter… the real laughter that I’ve been praying would return… bubbles out of me. Pure, unrestrained love erupts through running, jumping, spontaneous bursts of affection out of that little boy who was once silent, withdrawn and invisible.

I can’t help but remember the promises we started this year claiming… The Year of the Lord’s Favor. (Isaiah 61)

Less than a month ago, I was washing away my prayers as I wrote them with heart-broken, angry, burning tears. I was stomping my spiritual foot and telling my Maker, “YOU SAID YOU TURN ASHES INTO BEAUTY. YOU SAID you replace mourning with joy, garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. YOU SAID this was the year of Glory.”

Yeah.

I tooooold Him.

Yesterday, it wasn’t tear-washing that brought me back to that passage in Isaiah like it was a few weeks ago… It was Lifa-washing. At bath time. Because during bath time, Lifa had a dawning and life-changing scientific discovery: He realized he can add so many more bubbles to his bath by adding a little personal gas. He’s actually still laughing about it.

I laughed so hard. (And also explained to him what the word disgusting means.)

And, yes, I should be embarrassed to tell you that it was really that moment (among many others) that reminded me of my faithful Father.

He binds broken hearts and set the captives free.

Not always in the ways you think He will either.

I didn’t think bath bubbles (especially of the stinky persuasion) would do a healing work on my heart. And I didn’t think that adding more people, mess and chaos into this tiny cottage would set me free.

I didn’t think the Year of the Lord’s Favor, the Year of Glory, would end with me in this same little cottage, with this same back-and-forth ambiguous routine with Lifa, with no birth certificate, and with a taller tower of tear-filled journals.

It is ending with all of those things, but it’s also ending with joy. Complete joy.

And, guess what… I’m going to read Isaiah 61 again in 2014, and claim is as the Year of the Lord’s Favor again.

I’m going to call 2014 the Year of Joy. And I’m going to choose it.

Bath bubbles and Christmas cookies are fleeting… (at equally rapid rates!)

My circumstances and my emotions are like shifting sand.

But the Kingdom of God is unshakable.

“Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.” Hebrews 12: 28-29

I’m asking my God, the consuming fire, to burn away my expectations and my burdens, and to keep on exchanging those ashes for His beauty.

“Instead of your shame you will receive a double portion,

and instead of disgrace you will rejoice in your inheritance.

And so you will inherit a double portion in your land,

And everlasting joy will be yours.”

Isaiah 61:7-8

And I’m latching on to Joy – living, breathing, active, sovereign, complete Joy – within me and choosing it every day. He’s my promise and He’s my peace. Everything else can burn away… and make more room for beauty.

“Though the mountains be shake and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,’ says the Lord, who has compassion on you.”

Isaiah 55:10

Ocean View

I just got home from a week on the beach.

This rural plot on Old Plaston Road is only a 7-hour drive from the Indian Ocean. To make it even better, it was family vacation. Although a deep part of me was crying out to make cold(ish)-weather Christmas memories with the ones I love back in Texas, I was thrilled and blessed and loved to overflow this year when my close-enough-to-be-family friends and leaders, John and Carla, invited me on their holiday trip.

We’d been counting down the days until we left…

This year has been unbelievable on every spectrum.

There have been highs and lows that you can only know if you dare to love with everything. We’d spent the year urging each other on to deeper love - love that changes you.

And, quite frankly, we needed to take a deep breath and to step away from the extremities of our daily life, the highs and lows of loving all the way.

Speaking of extremes...
In Africa, there's no such thing as a typical beach vacation!

We needed to let the ocean’s tides wash over everything 2013 has washed up and to clear a space in our hearts and minds for new footprints, castles and dreams to be etched.

And it was going to be a REAL vacation. Not just a little 2-night, I-hope-this-helps dip into respite, hoping to subdue dried out hearts. We were packing our big girl (and big boy) bags, and going away for SIX NIGHTS.

I’d promised Mama Charity I’d come back with the same color skin as her.

It’s summertime in South Africa - BRING ON THE SUNTAN!

We were welcomed to our lovely beach cottage by… RAIN.

And the rain didn’t stop for FOUR DAYS!

We played Yahtzee. We memorized the aisles of the grocery store, even though we didn’t need to buy anything. Carla baked cookies. We signed up for pilates. I went on walks in the rain. And we went freakin’ stir-crazy.

I poured the bucket of questions, cries and burdens that traveled with me into my journal since I couldn’t pour it into the ocean. I drained the ink of all my pens with the burdens of burnout, the worries of countless what-ifs, and with hollowing homesickness. I wondered what my faith was really made of and if it was strong enough to withstand the storm, both outside and in.

The rain kept falling.

And the part that drove me crazy is that it wouldn’t pour. It sprinkled, misted, drizzled and pitter-pattered. And if the heavens would have just released the torrent it was hoarding, WE COULD HAVE GONE TO THE BEACH.

 A light and steady resistance just kept falling.

Finally, we said goodnight on the fourth night at the beach cottage to the sounds of real rain. Loud rain. Real rain.

And the sun was up at 4:30am the next day! And so were we!

We had our beach umbrellas set up, sunscreen on, and feet in the sand by 7:30am… and we stayed for almost 9 hours to make up for lost time.

I walked along the shoreline with my Savior.

The tides washed my feet, and the Healer washed my heart.

I looked at that ocean that kept going.

Kept washing. Kept flowing.

It was there the whole time.

It was constant and unchanging during the four-day drizzle.

I’d just spent so many days staring at that little storm cloud icon on the weather map. But the deep kept washing, rolling and flowing the whole time.

We spent two full days of perfection on that beach. PERFECTION.

And, you know what, it restored me.

It washed me. It refreshed me.

In just two days.

As I walked along the shores of the One who keeps washing and flowing and restoring, I realized how quickly the rainy days were forgotten when the sun came out.

As soon as I stepped into the sunlight and let that water wash over me, I felt new. All the sounds except rushing water faded away and, for a minute, I soaked in what Forever will sound like.

Right now – and for the last 3 days since we returned -  I’ve been staring, daring and begging my phone to ring or vibrate or do SOMETHING that says Lifa can come home today. And for that one call that’s promised to come any moment, the one we’ve been waiting on for 2 ½ years, that says there’s a birth certificate with his name on it that is real.

And I’m back to feeling crazy. I’m back to feeling that constant drizzle, the unyielding resistance, that is filling my bucket of burdens.

So, I open all those pages I filled in the beach cottage. And I pour Living Water into my stubborn and struggling spirit. And water threatens to pour out of my eyes.

And I remember how I forgot.

I spent DAYS staring at a tiny storm cloud icon, when the ocean was there the whole time.

There were a lot of deferred dreams in 2013. And I bet there will be in 2014 too. Clouds come and block that radiant glow. But it’s still back there. And, when it rises and shines, the rainy days are washed away and joy wins.

But back in the farmlands, where the mangoes and the litchis are ripening, I remember that it takes rain and sunshine to make fruit grow. It takes the heavens drizzles and downpours to drain me of myself give my heart back to Him so he can do even greater things than this.

So, today, whether that phone rings or not, I’m going to set my sights on the ocean. On the Deep, Who keeps coming and healing and restoring.

There will be rainy days and sunny days, but I won’t set my course on a weather map. What’s True is not found on a tiny forecast icon. My vision and my home is higher and greater.

I’ll fix my gaze on heaven, where there is always an ocean-view.

And I’ll be thankful. Because He always comes, heals and restores.