The Queen B

Hope

Worries.

Unknowns.

Disappointments.

Old fears resurface.

What-ifs threaten to strangle.

Pause.

Remember.

My help comes from the Maker of heaven and earth.

 

Praying for those of you who, like me, need peace today.

 

 

Be Quiet

"The Lord will fight for you; you must be quiet." Exodus 14:14

Well that seems pretty straightforward.  

Except for I'm not quiet.

Even if I'm silent, I'm not quiet.

I'm texting or pinning or surfing.

Or reading or watching.

Or planning. Or wishing.  

Or dreading. Or worrying.

But not being still and quiet.

What does stillness even look like?

When was the last time you were quiet?

I can't seem to recall...

I want to be quiet.  

I want to be fully present so that I can be completely aware of His presence.

It is nearly impossible to feel conviction or gentle nudging when the mind is spinning.

I want to be quiet.

 

Such Things

 

"...Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." Philippians 4:8

 

This is my prayer for each of you this weekend.  

Enjoy every moment.

Amazing Grace

One year ago today.

One year ago today I almost lost my husband.

One year ago today my priorities shifted.

One year ago today I learned the meaning of gratitude.

One year ago today unconditional was redefined.

One year ago today we began a journey that I would never have asked to embark upon.

One year ago today we began a journey that I appreciate more every day.

One year ago today.

King of Kings

My heart is really missing La P lately.

I can't believe it has almost been 2 years since we found her.

From a spunky 5 year old, dragging her friends to meet us...

 

To a confident 7 year old, welcoming us as her family.

Amazing.

It hurts my heart too much to let my thoughts of her linger very long.  

My mind is now trained to be thinking of her constantly, yet cautiously.

I'm doing Beth Moore's Daniel study.

(It's really, really good.)

I did a different Daniel study not long after I met La P. The verse that jumped at me then is jumping at me again.

     And He changes the times and the seasons; 
      He removes kings and raises up kings; 
      He gives wisdom to the wise 
      And knowledge to those who have understanding. 
      He reveals deep and secret things; 
      He knows what is in the darkness, 
      And light dwells with Him. 
      I thank You and praise You, 
      O God of my fathers; 
      You have given me wisdom and might, 
      And have now made known to me what we asked of You, 
      For You have made known to us the king’s demand.  

      Daniel 2:21-23, emphasis mine

If God can change the times and seasons and remove and raise up kings, why would I doubt that He can bring La P home to us???

There is no government situation or authority situation that He has not allowed. With one word from Him, laws and rules can be changed.  

She is not with us because He has not yet allowed her to be with us.

That doesn't make me frustrated or angry.  It gives me hope.

And whatever situation you find yourself in today...even those that seem hopeless...know that the same King who controls time, seasons and governments is also actively working on your behalf.

There is hope.

 

This Path

I want to share about our day trip with La P, but first I'm going to continue with my thoughts from the last post.  

This trip to Guatemala felt different for us.  The other trips have been amazing and wonderful and have revealed many things that I'm grateful to have learned.  The same can be said for this one, but in different ways.

This trip caused me to look beyond me.  To look beyond what is a little bit uncomfortable and come face to face with what's really uncomfortable.  

I'm left knowing that there has to be more to life than striving to get to an imaginary point of success.  

There has to be more than giving out of obligation.

There has to be more than standing on the sidelines and wondering what it would be like to play.

I feel as if we are moving in a direction, but the map has been blacked out.  We can only see a few miles in front of us.

The King describes it as using a head lamp when the stadium lighting is not working.  

Here's all that I know for sure...

2 years ago, I was begging God to give me a stomach virus so that I wouldn't have to go to Guatemala for a week.

And since then...I've been back twice.  The King's been back 10 times.  God has given me a sweet child who may never really be mine.  My husband has survived brain trauma and surgery.  We're in the midst of some financial situations that would have (2 years ago) sent me into permanent fetal position. Our future is pretty much completely unknown.

But I have a peace that I've never had before.  

Not in spite of all of those things, but because of all of those things.  

I've seen how God prepared me for things that I could never have seen coming.  He used each situation (which I'd think surely HAD to be the end) to stretch me and grow me and place me in circumstances that I never would have thought I'd be capable of enduring.  

And then here we'd go again.

Only now I'm not sure where we are going.  Because, unlike the times before, I don't feel the same need to fight.  I don't have a particular destination that I'm trying to reach.  

Plan A no longer appeals to me.

So you can sense that I'm confused, I'm guessing.

And I'm not sure why I'm sharing it with the internet.

Vulnerable, much?

Any wise words or experiences that you have about finding direction?

Or anything else?  

Like a new snack.  Or great jeans.  Or something else to distract me from reality...?

(And if you are wondering if there was any point to this rambling, the answer is no.)

 

Things Are Not Always What They Seem

We arrived at the coffee farm as the darkness was just taking over the day.

I was kind of thinking we would surely just head back down to the city.

We didn't.

Mama Carmen popped out of the suburban and took off down the mountain trail.

Let's backtrack just a minute, shall we?

Remember how I killed my ankle on the first day?  Well.  It was really hurting.  I didn't want to be a total whiner, so I was trying not to talk about it constantly...but it was really hurting.  

And upon leaving for this particular day's adventures, I didn't really have a clear understanding of the fact that I would be walking down a steep mountain trail that would cover 17 acres.

In the dark.

So I just began asking God to help me get through this ridiculous hike without hurting my ankle more seriously.  

If 63 year old Mama Carmen could hike 17 acres in the dark, surely I could, too. 

I had never been to a coffee farm before, but it was really interesting.  We were looking at the beans by the light of my iphone.  

Coffee grows best on the side of a mountain. It was very steep.  There was a beautiful stream at the base of the mountain.  

Well.  I'm sure in the daylight it would have been beautiful.

This is a banana tree.  Or banana plant?  Whichever.  It was really tall.  And the flower on it was amazing.  I didn't know that their flowers were so lovely.

And can we all just take a moment to reflect on the darkness?

We were seriously lighting the path with the flashlight app on my phone.  Here's the tiny bridge we came to and crossed by app light...

Yeah.  Ravine below.

Eventually, we made our way back up the mountain to our vehicle.  Then we walked to the house that is on her property.

It was incredible.

It has not had anyone living in it for sometime, but it could be like the coolest house ever.

The middle of it is an open air courtyard.  Most of the living areas are both inside and outside.  It was phenomenal.

While we were looking, we heard gunfire.

We were trying to not be offensive and scaredy cat gringos, so we began whispering to our kids to hightail it to the car.

As we were stuffing them in the car, I looked at the building across the street--a church of some kind, no less--and told The King I was certain I'd just seen a sniper.

Soon the others joined us in the suburban and we began driving back through the village.

We turned a corner and saw several of the village children in the road playing with firecrackers.

Not exactly the storm of gunfire we'd pictured.

And I felt so silly.

And small. 

And prejudiced and ignorant.

And sad.

We were going to take Mama Carmen and her kids out for dinner, but our translator shared that Mama Carmen still had to go to the grocery store for the next day's food and needed to get back to her home.

We visited with her a bit more as we drove back to the city and soon had arrived at her home.  As she got out of the car, she told us she'd be praying for us.

And I'm pretty sure she meant it.

And it broke my heart.  Because as a friend shared with me upon my return, we may pray for her for what she doesn't have, but she is likely praying for us for what we don't have (or maybe for what we do have?)

Something that our missionary friend shared with us that day has stuck with me.  We were talking with him about his safety and the crime in Guatemala.  He was taking us places (and has & will be taking his family places) that are not safe by our standards.  

His response was basically, "I don't know how I'd ever reach people if I were behind walls. Or keeping my distance.  Or staying away from where they live.  I figure that if I'm helping them and improving their lives then they will protect me.  And if they don't, then that's ok, too."

Isn't that astounding?

I can't stop thinking about it.  

I have used my safety as an excuse to hide.

I think another thing that I learned from the experience with Mama Carmen is this...

She could live in a really, really nice house.  And take her kids with her.  And run the coffee farm to its maximum potential.  And employ people in that village. 

And all that would be good.  Really good.

It would, in many ways, be a "better" life for her and the kids.  

But her calling is in that city.  By the dump.

She doesn't get mired down by the fact that the really nice coffee farm is not being used to it's maximum potential.

She has just waited and trusted.  And now this precious missionary and his family have shown up.  And they are getting the coffee farm running more efficiently.  

That is their calling.

It is such an example of each of us being the hands and feet of Christ and of the church. 

One thing I kept thinking is that we would have had a hard time leaving something on the table.  Meaning, if we had a coffee farm that had been given to us and it wasn't being all that it could be--we'd be nuts.  I'm still processing these thoughts.

I do know that we all have a role to play in some story.  Each of us has a calling.  Our part may be small or it may be the starring role.  It may be a piece that can be filled by anybody willing or it may be so specific that it can only be filled by you.  

What if Mama Carmen hadn't followed through on her promise to take care of these children?  Or what if this missionary chose to use his knowledge of the coffee industry to work for a world famous coffee chain?  Or if this doctor wouldn't have given his time to examine Erma? The list goes on.

God doesn't call us all to move to a third world country.

He doesn't give each of us knowledge about specific fields that can be used to change lives.

He doesn't give each of us the financial means to support ministries both here and abroad.

But He does call some of us to do those things.  

Others He calls to take meals to a sick friend.  Or to babysit for a mom who is in a bind.  Or to take a coat that you no longer need to someone who needs it desperately.  Or invite a family over for a night of fun and laughter because they haven't had much laughter for awhile.

I guess what I'm saying is, we need to seek out ways we can serve someone else.  

And then there's this...Mama Carmen doesn't consider the fact that she is caring for 88 children to be enough.  She is serving her community by providing VBS to the city kids.  She is feeding the hungry at the dump.  She is giving of herself by entertaining selfish Americans for an afternoon. 

This is totally NOT the direction I intended on taking this post.  Not sure where I digressed.  I hope it didn't come off preachy.  I'm thinking it probably came off preachy.

I am just sharing what is on my heart.  

I'm not sure what it all means.  

More on that in the next post.

 

The Joy Of The Lord

So Mama Carmen greeted us warmly and asked if we were ready to go. 

We piled in the suburban...the missionary we were spending our day with, the translator, our friends Jason & Lacey, their oldest son, The King, Princess & I and Mama Carmen.  

Some of her older kids asked if they could go with us.  We were all mentally tallying how many were already cramming in the suburban and thinking there would be no way they could fit.  

I think someone said something about no room.

Mama Carmen quickly went around to the back of the suburban, opened the back doors and said something in Spanish that most likely translated to "you crazy gringos, there is a quarter of this vehicle that is empty".  

So 3 teenagers piled in the cargo area of the suburban.

While we all sunk down in our seats.

And we were off to Mama Carmen's coffee farm.

Sidebar:  Several years ago, a Guatemalan doctor gifted Mama Carmen his coffee farm in the mountains.  The hope was that it would fund her ministry.  The problem is, Mama Carmen lives in the city.  That is where her kids are.  She isn't leaving. Right now, the coffee farm makes enough money for an emergency fund.  Barely. She uses it for medical issues that might come up and things like that.  Trust me, it isn't making much.  

The missionary with whom we were spending the day is temporarily in Guatemala to help improve her coffee production. He is very experienced in the coffee industry and uses that knowledge for God's kingdom.  Cool, huh?

(Is this making any sense?)

(I don't feel as if this is making any sense.)

(But I'm gonna keep going.)

We embarked on the very curvy journey to the mountain village.  I completely lost track of how long the drive was. I was bouncing all over the back seat and praying for my life to be spared because we were on a one lane road (half lane road?) with scary buses and no traffic laws.  

It was dusk at this point.  Which totally made the half lane road scarier.

And the sweet orphans in the back of the suburban started spraying some perfume. 

Which almost caused me to spew.  

Because, really?  Curvy, bouncy, death roads and strong smells of gardenia DO NOT MIX.

BUT.

Those kids in the back of the suburban laughed the entire trip. 

They talked and talked and talked to each other.  They laughed.  A lot.  

(And sprayed gardenia.  A lot.)

We were asking Mama Carmen questions through the translator as we drove up the mountain.

I asked her if the kids who stay with her while their parents worked paid anything to be there.

She said no.  She said that if the parents paid for their children to be with her then they might not be able to eat.

I felt small.

Then we asked her about feeding all of the 88 kids under her roof.  

She said that she didn't know where her food would come from next week, but she knew that it would come.

Wow.

I mean....WOW.

And get this.  On Mondays and Fridays?  She feeds the people at the dump.  

Imagine that faith.  If I was unsure of my family's food situation, would I take my excess to feed an entire community of people?

Loaves and fishes, y'all.  Loaves and fishes.  

So then Lacey asked her if she'd share her most pressing need.  

She hesitated to share at first.  But then said that she'd like to build another story on to her home so that she could house more kids.  

We asked what that would cost and it was about $25,000.  

I absolutely love that she knows she serves a big God who can accomplish big things. 

We asked her about the kids.  She said that each one is hers.  She is their mother. 

We were climbing the mountain.

I was trying to take a picture but was struggling. 

One of the kids in the back looked at me and pointed to herself and then out the window.

I handed her my phone and she took a few pictures.

 

We passed through several villages.

We were passing what I'm assuming were small houses and came upon a lady standing by the road.

She held a tray of chocolate donuts.  

Her tray was full.  

You'll recall it's dusk.  

And her tray was full.

This is not a busy road.

We pulled over.  And bought 10 donuts.

(That is the back of Mama Carmen's head.)

(Why would I have thought to take a picture of the front of Mama Carmen's head?)

Do you know that the 10 donuts that we bought could pay for her family's groceries for a week?

Would I have stayed out there with my full tray until dusk?  

I'm afraid I know the answer and it shames me.

Lacey and I were immediately sending out the word to our families to NOT EAT THE DONUTS.

We handed them to the precious kids in the back.

Well.  We did.  

Their stomachs are used to it.

Ours?  Not so much.

Of course, one of us ate a donut.

Wanna take a guess?

Yeah.  It was the one who possibly had a brain parasite from eating in a third world country.

(I love you, King.  So thankful you have a life to risk.)

(But, really?)

Anyway.  

The translator overheard the conversation between Mama Carmen and her kids and told us quietly that none of them had eaten since 6 that morning.  

Y'all.

They had not eaten all day.

And were laughing.  And smiling.  And NOT complaining.

Our kids were sulking because they were late for dinner.

Lacey and I immediately started quietly threatening our kids...."you will start laughing like the hungry orphan children!"

It really was interesting to observe.

The absolute JOY that flowed from Mama Carmen and her kids was palpable.  

They are happier than we are.  

And we are happy people.

But they are filled with the JOY OF THE LORD.

And it is different than ours.

I've never seen anything quite like it.

This is long.  I'll write more later.

Thanks for reading.

Beautiful

While still wrapping our minds around what we'd just witnessed at the dump, we made our way to a children's home in the city.  

Mama Carmen is a 63 year old Guatemalan lady who has opened her heart and her home.  Years ago, her son was kidnapped.  She prayed and promised God that if he would safely return her son, she would never turn away a homeless child.  He was returned safely to her, and she is fulfilling her promise.  

At the time of our visit, there were 66 children living with her.  Additionally, 22 children stay with her during the day while their parents are working.

We pulled up to the curb on a city street.  Her home is part of the city block. Nothing identifies it as different from the other doors lining the street.  

We entered through the door and were greeted by sweet little faces.

Seriously.  Those eyes.

Within minutes, we had children hanging from our arms and legs.  Each wanting our attention.  How do you choose which one to hold?

            

It is my understanding that the home is run by Mama Carmen and her adult children.

We were supposed to meet Mama Carmen to go with her to see her coffee farm that afternoon.  I'll share more about that in a bit.

Mama Carmen was running a couple of hours behind.  We knew from her calls with our translator that she had been having some car trouble. We hung out and played with the kids while we waited on her.  

This is Erma.  Erma hasn't been at Mama Carmen's very long.  She was brought to Mama Carmen by another orphanage who couldn't care for her.  Erma has (what was thought to be) epilepsy.  At the time of our visit, they were having trouble regulating her medication.  She was so medicated while we were visiting that she could barely put words together.  

Her eyes were truly a window to her soul.  

It seemed they were pleading to let her out of her medicated prison.

The medication also made her vomit each time she took it.  The evidence was all down the front of her shirt.

She clung to me for a while.  I tried to communicate with her.  She would grow very frustrated.  She kept repeating the same phrase to me over and over and over with those piercing eyes.

Finally, I called the translator over and asked her to help me understand.  

Erma was saying, "Why are you such a flirt to be wearing that jewelry in your nose?"

I cracked up laughing.  

So did Erma.

It was lovely to see her smile.

Erma's medication was $200 each month.  We have since found a way to get it for her for $50. Now we are working on how to get it to her.

One of the doctors whom God placed in our path for La P agreed to see Erma a few weeks ago.  He determined that she does not have epilepsy, but has brain damage from something he believed occurred during birth.  The medication will still be able to control her seizing.

After a time, Mama Carmen arrived.  Honestly, my expectation was that she would bail on our plans.  And I thought she would greet us with some degree of aggravation.  Kind of like we were another group of Americans who take pictures and then disappear. 

Which, sadly, isn't far from the truth.

However, Mama Carmen got out of her van, came to me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

I was so shocked that I could barely hug back.  Seriously.  She did not have an ounce of frustration anywhere on her face.

And get this...Mama Carmen and several of the older kids had been out since 6 a.m. (it was about 4:30 at this time) doing VBS in a worse part of the city!

I was absolutely blown away.

If anyone ever deserved to be served, it is her.  Yet she was out serving others.  

And with a beautiful attitude.  A kind and generous spirit.  A lovely demeanor.

After being broken down on the side of the road...and running hours behind.

Y'all.  I would have been fit to be tied. I would have been irritable and ugly and hateful.  I would have bailed on the plans.  My day, and the day of those around me, would have been shot.

I can honestly say that the graciousness that she displayed that day has made me reevaluate much about my life.  My priorities and my attitude.  

My heart, really.

I can't wait to share the rest of our day with you.  Next post, ok?

***

Please be in prayer for Joanne from The Simple Wife.  As you may know, she had a stroke Tuesday morning while on her treadmill.  Let's go before the Lord and ask for complete healing and restoration for her and her family. In 2007, I read Joanne's book, Living Simply.  It was the catalyst for many changes in my life.  God used her words to begin whispering to my heart. Keep her close to yours today. 

 

 

Thankful

As you may recall, we spent Thanksgiving week in Guatemala.  

I sort of began recounting the trip a few weeks ago.  

I got to the part about the monkey and my ankle. 

Ugh.  Let's move on.

So Day 2 of the Guatemala trip was kind of a drag.  Usually, we have had a project to be working on while visiting with La P.  This time, however, there wasn't much going on at the orphanage.  

There was a mother and daughter from Louisiana staying in our house and they were a hoot.  We had a lot of fun playing cards in the evenings with those two!

But as far as productive work...not so much.

On Day 3, we had plans to venture into the city.  

In the past, we've been cautioned to stay out of the city.  Guatemala City is very dangerous.  The most recent statistic that I read is that there are an average of 11 murders a day within that city.  It is home to over 13 million people who have an average annual income of less than $5000.  

This past year we have felt God moving us to step out of our comfy box a little bit more.

(Thank you very much, Radical.)

Samuel, a missionary from our hometown, had moved to Guatemala a week or so before we arrived, and he picked us up that morning. 

As Samuel told one of the missionaries at the orphanage the places that he was planning on taking us, the response was, "I'd never take anyone there.  If you need help, don't call me."

Surely he was kidding.

We went to a local restaurant with Samuel and a translator.  We learned a bit about Samuel's ministry and how he had ended up on this short term adventure in Guatemala.

Our plan for the day was to visit a children's home in the city.  As we began talking about the many heartbreaking situations in Guatemala, our conversation quickly took us to the city dump.

Samuel asked if we'd like to go there.

The dump in Guatemala City is home to thousands.  Generations of families have lived and worked in the dump.

I'm not sure that I can use words to accurately describe what we experienced.

Any words that I could use feel so empty and hollow and cheap.

So bear with me.  

To see to the dump, we had to walk through the General Cemetery of the city.  

Most of the vault type things where the people are laid to rest are rented.  If the family of the deceased doesn't pay the rent, then the body is taken out and chunked over a cliff to the dump so that the vault thing can be used again.

Do you see the vultures?

I cannot even begin to explain the vultures.  

We walked to the back of the cemetery toward the cliff.

Every sense was assaulted.  

 

There were so many people.  There were men hanging on the back of the trash truck in a line so that they could get the first chance at grabbing what dumped out.

When the back would lift and dump, their bodies would slam toward the ground. They would sometimes not let go, and so their bodies would flail in the air when the bed slammed back onto the truck.

We were told that many are maimed and killed by this act of desperation.

We witnessed one man grabbing a tarp and running as fast as he could while gathering it in his arms.  He had scored shelter.

In the last picture, you can see a blue rectangle and a yellow rectangle in the center toward the bottom of the photo.  Those are two houses.

As we stood quietly, taking it all in, Samuel said gently, "It's overwhelming, isn't it?"

So very.  

Samuel said that he struggled with how to pray after seeing it for the first time. Soon, however, he began to focus his prayers on the dump truck and bulldozer drivers.  He prays that they will be alert and attentive and that they will come to know Jesus.  

I thought that sounded more manageable, but couldn't process it at that moment.

Off to the side, I could see an area cleared from trash and lots of movement.

I nodded toward The King and showed him the area.  

We struggled as our minds registered what our eyes were witnessing.

It was a soccer field.

Some young men had cleared an area of trash and created a soccer field.

It was now much more than just "generations of people who live in the dump".

Those are words.

These were young men.  Young men who have a life in front of them.  

Young men who deliberately moved tons of trash and filth to create an oasis of joy.

Do they have hope of getting out of there?  Do they even want to get out of there?

Do they know they can get out of there?

The pictures seem so flat.  My words seem so insignificant.  

The magnitude of despair in that place seems so enormous.

Soon we made our way back to the car.  

I'll share about our next stop in the next post.