The Queen B

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. 

Good Intentions

Happy 2011!!

I cannot believe that 2010 has come to an end.  The year FLEW by for The Palace.  It was definitely the most defining year of my life, and now I'm excited to take what I've learned into this new year.

The general direction of this year feels like it will be LIVING INTENTIONALLY.

Not just letting our days pass while each blurs into the next, but being aware of each moment.  

Choosing how our time is spent.

Stepping back from the things that don't work for our family.  

Stepping toward things that do.

***

This week, I hope to write about our recent trip to Guatemala.  There's so much to share... I want to do it justice.  

***

Tell me something.  What was the most important thing that happened to you in 2010?  

 

Beloved

Sixteen years ago today I married my best friend.

This year has brought us more challenges than any other. 

It has also brought us closer than I dreamed possible.

I came so close to losing him on March 21. Mercifully, God allowed us more time together on this earth.  

I am grateful for each day that I've been given as his wife.

He's shown such a gentle strength in weakness.  

He's learned how to trust.

He's learned how to wait.

He no longer seeks to get his own way, but seeks to do the will of his Father.

I am so very proud of him.

Happy Anniversary, King.  I love you.

 

 

In A Rut

I'm just writing the thoughts in my head.  

Today's topic...disappointments.

That seems to be an overwhelming emotion that I hear from people lately.  

Myself included.

There is always something that could have/should have/we wish would have gone differently.  

Sometimes the circumstances are of our own making.  But it seems like most often we are at the mercy of the consequences of other people's decisions.  

Either way, disappointment stinks.

I've been thinking a lot about why we experience disappointment...

Do we set ourselves up by having expectations that are too high?

Do we put too much responsibility on other people who never asked to be in that position?

Do we fail to look at the entire situation?

Do we fail to look at the intent of others and instead worry only about how we feel we were treated?

Do we pile our baggage on a situation and overly complicate things?

(I can answer yes to all the above.)

Disappointment is a part of life.  We know that.  We sort of expect it.  But we are nonetheless unprepared for it when it arrives.

Looking back, most of the disappointments that have stuck with me have opened the door for opportunities that otherwise would not have happened.  

They have shaped who I have become.

They have allowed me to understand someone or something in a way that I hadn't before.

But only when I have cooperated.  

I have also experienced bitterness.  I have isolated myself.  I have chosen to remain in a place of hurt and pain.  I've been stuck in that revolving door of blame and self pity.

And I was miserable.  Those around me weren't so happy, either.

So what determines how we handle disappointment?

I could give a sweet answer and say our faith or our attitude.  And I think both are totally important and essential to getting to the other side of the disappointment.

But I also think there is an uncomfortable answer that is at the root of most of my disappointment.

My insecurity.

I'd really rather not think about that.  

But it has been on my mind today.  

How I perceive myself is directly related to how I perceive the given situation.

Was I overlooked?  Probably because they don't like me.

Was I treated unfairly?  That's about what I deserve.

Did things just not go my way?  They never really do.

Ever been invited to that pity party?

The King has a healthy dose of self confidence.  Some might see it as arrogance, but I know his heart.  He has a very clear understanding of his place in this world.  He doesn't place himself above others, but he doesn't place himself below them, either.

He evaluates a situation and looks for the truth.  If he's at fault, he deals with it and moves forward.  If he's been hurt, he deals with it and moves forward.

I tend to camp there.  

And maybe send out change of address cards.

Recently, someone brought up a situation that was hurtful from my past.  I struggled with my response.

I thought that I'd moved past it.

I know the truth.

But I began to set up my tent again.

The King quickly reminded me that I'd moved from that place.

I quickly reminded him that I had grown to like my tent and I sort of missed it and it was probably where I belonged.

Why is the familiarity of our disappointment so comfortable?

Why does moving on seem like the more treacherous path?

It takes a lot of effort and desire to get to the other side of heartbreak.

And a lot of self reflection.

I think the possibility of seeing something in ourselves that we don't like is terrifying.  So it is easier to never look.

(How's this for a holiday post?)

Can we just blame Eve?  Doesn't this seem to be a girl thing?

I want to set a healthy example in this area for my daughter.

If only I could teach her to see herself as God sees her.  How to see her value.  How to see her worth.  I don't want to spare her from the disappointments of life, but I do want to spare her from the additional pain we often heap on ourselves.  

Realistically, I know the example I have set for her is the opposite of that.  She has seen my doubt and insecurity.  

She has seen me succumb to self pity.

She needs to see me...  See myself as God sees me.  See my value.  See my worth.

She needs to see me face disappointments in life, but then see me bounce from them.  

She needs to see me do a little self reflection.  And then see me deal with whatever ugliness I find.  

Do you struggle in this area?  Conquered it?  Just wanna think about sleigh bells and candy canes...?

Rest

I love the time change.

I love, love, love the falling back.

If only it came with a mandatory 24 hour catch-up-on-your-rest event, because...

The Palace is pooped.

We are all tired.  Physically.  Emotionally.  And there is no rest in sight for the next few weeks.

I think I'm coming down with a cold.  Or arthritis.

The Princess is in tears at least once a day.

I have tried to be so intentional about our schedule, but sometimes there is still TOO MUCH.

How do you rest?  I am seriously asking. 

What do you do to rest?

Do you rest?  Do you go and go and go until you crash?

Do you plan a time of rest?

Do you feel guilty if you rest?

Do others let you rest?

Do you let you rest?

Share your wisdom, friends....

 

Sweet

Guess who graduated from Kindergarten last week?

Isn't she growing up so fast??

We will be traveling to Guatemala later this month.  Would you please join us in prayer for our trip? Though we are praying for hearts to be softened, we truly just want to be in the Father's will.  

I do have a few tiny anxieties:  The King's first big trip since his surgery; flying.

That's pretty much the list.

I am really just excited to spend time with her and with the other kids.  

We have changed a lot since our last visit, and I'm excited to see the orphanage with clearer eyes.  

While I'm talking about the serious, I'd like to share something else with you.  I don't know how to explain it, but The King and I both feel that God is preparing us for a new chapter.  It may not be anything dramatically different.  But it might.  It may not alter our daily lives.  But it could.  

The last year and a half has taught me to rest in God's timing.  Not to rush it.  Not to force it.  

But it is still hard to wait.

Have you ever felt just on the edge of knowing something important, while really having no idea what it is you are about to know?

(Not rhetorical.  Spill it.)

Update on Conner

Thank you all for lifting sweet Conner in prayer.  

Those prayers are absolutely working!!

Not only is Conner able to move his legs, but he walked down the hall today!  And he was moved out of ICU!

He is also able to move the fingers on his right hand...his right arm is still paralyzed, but we are trusting that God will completely heal him.

He has been diagnosed with a condition that causes inflammation on/near the spine. My google research (don't laugh) indicates that this condition can continue to improve and he could be going strong anywhere from a few weeks to a few months from now.

Isn't that a miracle??

Thank you for taking the time to pray for this little boy.  Please continue to pray for complete healing.

I'd say he's feeling every one of your prayers...

 

Prayers Needed

Please be in prayer for this little guy...

 

Conner is the son of my friend, Debra.  
 

Conner began complaining that his arm was hurting on Monday afternoon and said he needed a sling.

Which cracks me up a little.

After a short time in the sling, Conner said his arm was still hurting and was hard to move and then mentioned that his feet were a little tingly.  

Debra quickly took him to the doctor, who sent them on to the Emergency Room.  

Late Monday, Conner was air lifted to Arkansas Children's Hospital.

Conner is currently in intensive care and is now unable to walk.  He has undergone many tests and, so far, doctors are unable to determine the cause.

Please lift this precious family in prayer.  

Conner has practically every food allergy known to man, which presents its own set of challenges. 

He is one of the spunkiest kids that I know.  He is the youngest of 3 boys.  Debra often says that they were a "library family" until Conner came along!  He is absolutely the delight of his family.

Please join me in praying for complete healing for Conner.  We know that God is the ultimate healer.  Pray for wisdom for the doctors....for strength for his parents, Debra & Tom.  And for courage for his sweet brothers.  

Thanks, y'all.  I mean it.