O.K., for all those who are wondering where I went:
Alaskan Adventures
is "our" blog of all the crazy stuff we do up here in Alaska.
I have taken 10 days off work to come out and stay with my hubby while he works out here in Valdez (a 9 hour trip by car). I am trying to make his stay easier and more fun, so if you'd like to see what I'm up to, check it out there. To be honest, I don't have anything all that deep to say, I'm just enjoying being a part of God's creation that is absolutely breathtaking!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Lucky 13!
Isaiah is my 13th N&N, and I happen to find that a very happy number!
If you'd like to see more of their Ethiopian journey, click here!
I think this is my most favorite picture!
He likes to read in bed. Of course we're related!
Beautiful family! Can't wait til it's a full family portrait!
And seriously; how precious is this?
I've had the amazing opportunity to see two sisters adopt and choose two of my nephews. It has been so surreal for me to watch. I wonder why more people don't adopt. I know the reasons why more people don't, but for all those reasons, Jesus answers.
You might ask me why I don't: a valid question if I pose it so blatantly. All I can say is that God hasn't put it on our hearts to have children, instead we want to do the most we can for as many as we can through our "five loaves and two fish." Is it enough? Well, are there still orphans? We want to do more and I know we will, and what we do can be exponentially increased by the Spirit. Won't you join us?
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Six Hundred
This is a post from Ali's African Adventures - a link is on the right as well as a button. This broke my heart and I hope it does the same to yours.
Tuesday, August 3. 2010
six hundred
Update #1 (4 August, 12:30 Africa time) : 102 of the names on the pink sheets have been e-mailed out across the world, and people are starting to pray.
We laid them out on empty stretchers in the recovery room. Six hundred pink sheets, filled with information we had gathered at screenings throughout the outreach. From all over Togo they came to us, and we sat with them, learned their names, recorded their pain, filed their stories in a desk drawer and asked them to wait for their healing.
Six hundred pink sheets.
They were the ones we turned away. The ones who were too sick or not sick enough. The ones who missed their surgery dates and couldn't be rescheduled because there were hundreds more to take their places. The ones we tried to call but couldn't reach.
Six hundred of them, and when I looked at all the pages strewn across the room I wanted to scream.
Because they've always been there. They're in every country we visit, but we've never seen them before, never made it to their villages to peer into the darkness of their little mud huts and bring them into the light. And this time we did, this time we drove to meet them and we said we'd call if we could help and then we never did.
Instead we laid them all out in an empty room and we did the only thing left to us. We prayed. We didn't finish today; there were too many, so we're going to do it again tomorrow. We prayed over each one of them. Over Yema, the little boy who just turned one in July, too small for his cleft lip to be fixed but probably not getting enough to eat at home because of it. Over Maka, eight years old with a left arm that can't straighten and fingers crippled from the burns he suffered when he was two. Over Abel, a young man with a hernia the size of a football who we tried to call and who never picked up his phone and so his paper was moved to the back of the pile again.
Over Yema and Maka and Abel and hundreds more, lives reduced to words on a sheet of pink papers. A pile of cleft lips. Important,more often than not checked on the bottom of the forms, no, no, no scrawled across the tops when we realized that time had run out. A handful of tumors, all marked positive for HIV and turned away because in the time it would have taken for them to get their CD4 counts done, we would have found five more to replace each one of them.
I cried this afternoon. Frustrated, angry tears, and I don't think I've ever been so aware of the scope of the need here in West Africa. By the end of an outreach, we usually have a few pink sheets left in the drawer in the OR office, lumps and bumps that didn't quite make it into the surgery schedule but weren't going to mean the difference between life and death. This time we found the forgotten, called out to the ones who've never heard the voice of hope and then we turned away because the time was too short and there were too many of them.
Six hundred pink sheets. Hundreds and thousands more sleeping on dirt floors tonight, nursing their pain and their fears as we get ready to sail away.
Pray with us. Please pray with us.
If you'd like to pray specifically for a patient, let me know in a comment or an e-mail, and I'll head down to the office and choose one or five or twenty names for you. If it's children who touch your heart, I'll find you a child to pray for. If you're drawn to those who have suffered burns, there's a whole pile of them. There are mamas and papas, old men and little girls, and they have all been told no.
Wouldn't it be incredible if we could find six hundred people willing to pray for these six hundred?
Please pray with us.
We laid them out on empty stretchers in the recovery room. Six hundred pink sheets, filled with information we had gathered at screenings throughout the outreach. From all over Togo they came to us, and we sat with them, learned their names, recorded their pain, filed their stories in a desk drawer and asked them to wait for their healing.Six hundred pink sheets.
They were the ones we turned away. The ones who were too sick or not sick enough. The ones who missed their surgery dates and couldn't be rescheduled because there were hundreds more to take their places. The ones we tried to call but couldn't reach.
Six hundred of them, and when I looked at all the pages strewn across the room I wanted to scream.
Because they've always been there. They're in every country we visit, but we've never seen them before, never made it to their villages to peer into the darkness of their little mud huts and bring them into the light. And this time we did, this time we drove to meet them and we said we'd call if we could help and then we never did.
Instead we laid them all out in an empty room and we did the only thing left to us. We prayed. We didn't finish today; there were too many, so we're going to do it again tomorrow. We prayed over each one of them. Over Yema, the little boy who just turned one in July, too small for his cleft lip to be fixed but probably not getting enough to eat at home because of it. Over Maka, eight years old with a left arm that can't straighten and fingers crippled from the burns he suffered when he was two. Over Abel, a young man with a hernia the size of a football who we tried to call and who never picked up his phone and so his paper was moved to the back of the pile again.
Over Yema and Maka and Abel and hundreds more, lives reduced to words on a sheet of pink papers. A pile of cleft lips. Important,more often than not checked on the bottom of the forms, no, no, no scrawled across the tops when we realized that time had run out. A handful of tumors, all marked positive for HIV and turned away because in the time it would have taken for them to get their CD4 counts done, we would have found five more to replace each one of them.I cried this afternoon. Frustrated, angry tears, and I don't think I've ever been so aware of the scope of the need here in West Africa. By the end of an outreach, we usually have a few pink sheets left in the drawer in the OR office, lumps and bumps that didn't quite make it into the surgery schedule but weren't going to mean the difference between life and death. This time we found the forgotten, called out to the ones who've never heard the voice of hope and then we turned away because the time was too short and there were too many of them.
Six hundred pink sheets. Hundreds and thousands more sleeping on dirt floors tonight, nursing their pain and their fears as we get ready to sail away.
Pray with us. Please pray with us.
If you'd like to pray specifically for a patient, let me know in a comment or an e-mail, and I'll head down to the office and choose one or five or twenty names for you. If it's children who touch your heart, I'll find you a child to pray for. If you're drawn to those who have suffered burns, there's a whole pile of them. There are mamas and papas, old men and little girls, and they have all been told no.
Wouldn't it be incredible if we could find six hundred people willing to pray for these six hundred?
Please pray with us.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Awesome August!
This week has already been an incredible week!
If you read the previous post, my sister and her husband are in Ethiopia meeting their new son! It's been an incredible experience so far for them and if you'd like to know more details they are on her blog here. I've felt so excited for them and a bit bewildered at this entire experience! I'm so thankful for modern technology, even though it's tough to connect with the even the phones there.
I read a different blog a while back that shared a very special perspective about how their 2-trip requirement emulates Jesus. In this first trip, Isaiah has now seen the people who have chosen him to be their son. As adoption is so close to God's heart, this is a perfect example of how God has chosen us to be His children. Just as in adoption, the ages can vary of when we get to join this perfect family, and it never matters to our Father. He want's us all, no matter how old we are! Right now and for the rest of the week, my sister and her husband will be investing a little bit more each day into their son, just as Jesus did for us during His time on this earth. They will have to say good-bye, but they will promise that they will come back for him to take him home with them - permanently! Jesus said the same thing! Isn't this just perfect?! Fortunately, my little nephew will not have to wait long, possibly 4-6 weeks, before they return to bring him home. I think our time perspective when Jesus returns will be similarly short! For a much sweeter rendition of these thoughts from the original author, click here!
So, as we all wait for this special time to come, I am constantly in prayer for my sister and her husband and her 3 kiddo's who are waiting for them to return home. I'm calling her everyday to get their updates and keep everyone else informed and praying! I'm so glad that they are not only going to be able to spend more time with their son, but also meet another friend's little boy! Her friend B just got their referral and got in touch with them to share the news! What an amazing opportunity to love on another little boy!
This has been an exciting week so far, and it will only get better since my beloved who has been gone for 2.5 weeks, will be home on Thursday! Three weeks is a long time to be separated, especially knowing it will happen again. I'm praying already that our week together will be sweet, long, and fun! Knowing my husband, it will definitely be fun! I miss him! I'm beginning to really love August!
If you read the previous post, my sister and her husband are in Ethiopia meeting their new son! It's been an incredible experience so far for them and if you'd like to know more details they are on her blog here. I've felt so excited for them and a bit bewildered at this entire experience! I'm so thankful for modern technology, even though it's tough to connect with the even the phones there.
I read a different blog a while back that shared a very special perspective about how their 2-trip requirement emulates Jesus. In this first trip, Isaiah has now seen the people who have chosen him to be their son. As adoption is so close to God's heart, this is a perfect example of how God has chosen us to be His children. Just as in adoption, the ages can vary of when we get to join this perfect family, and it never matters to our Father. He want's us all, no matter how old we are! Right now and for the rest of the week, my sister and her husband will be investing a little bit more each day into their son, just as Jesus did for us during His time on this earth. They will have to say good-bye, but they will promise that they will come back for him to take him home with them - permanently! Jesus said the same thing! Isn't this just perfect?! Fortunately, my little nephew will not have to wait long, possibly 4-6 weeks, before they return to bring him home. I think our time perspective when Jesus returns will be similarly short! For a much sweeter rendition of these thoughts from the original author, click here!
So, as we all wait for this special time to come, I am constantly in prayer for my sister and her husband and her 3 kiddo's who are waiting for them to return home. I'm calling her everyday to get their updates and keep everyone else informed and praying! I'm so glad that they are not only going to be able to spend more time with their son, but also meet another friend's little boy! Her friend B just got their referral and got in touch with them to share the news! What an amazing opportunity to love on another little boy!
This has been an exciting week so far, and it will only get better since my beloved who has been gone for 2.5 weeks, will be home on Thursday! Three weeks is a long time to be separated, especially knowing it will happen again. I'm praying already that our week together will be sweet, long, and fun! Knowing my husband, it will definitely be fun! I miss him! I'm beginning to really love August!
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