Who Knows?

We all believe in authenticity here, right? My past transformed me. It continues to. This blog is a diary. An excavation. An unearthing and a revelation. It doesn't have to be remarkable or memorable. I just want it to be real.

When I was approximately 19 years old, the process of my first divorce began. He was the boy I broke up with my boyfriend to marry, because I was carrying his child. He was my old boyfriend. My new boyfriend was stunned. Either way, this was the path I chose. We sat in our rented farmhouse outside of Cookeville, Tennessee. Shag carpet, lousy heating and air. Mice. $210 per month. He told me he was leaving and I continued to watch TV. He would have left right then because I didn't fight for him to stay with me and our 9 month old baby. He didn't have a car. The next day, I drove him 90 miles away to his parents house.

So be it.

Soon, baby Spencer and I were living in public housing in Cookeville. I collected foodstamps and was on the WIC program. Spencer went to government subsidized daycare while I went to work at the video store. Soon, the electricity was cut off and the eviction notice came. The $800 Visa card had been maxxed out at Walmart. My car had been driven for 2 years without an oil change. Were it not for the love of that sweet baby Spencer, who knows what I would have tried, where I would have ended up. Who knows?

I have no memory of moving out of that apartment. In fact, other than Spencers tiny room with the little crib, and the view out of the top story window down onto the parking lot and the dumpster, I only recall listening to Edie Brickell and Wilson on my radio. And singing alot.

Fast forward to my next apartment in Nashville. Spencer & I shared a room. Mauve carpet...it was so en vogue at the time. Spencer might have been 2. Maybe 3. I had a job, although I don't recall which one it was at the time. I have no idea how I survived financially. I'm pretty sure I didn't.

One night on the TV, after being glued to the stories of the starving children in Africa with large bellies and flies on their eyeballs.....I sponsored a child. I could barely feed the baby I had in our one-bedroom apartment but I sponsored a little boy in Zambia. I could not wait to receive the information in the mail with his photo and a story about him. When it arrived, it went on my fridge. I have no idea how long I paid to sponsor him. I think it was several months before I finally had to back out. It broke my heart. I cannot remember his name. I have no idea what my backing out did to his life, or if someone else sponsored him right away. Who knows?

I know that I have been passionate about Africa, orphans, and starving children ever since. I can recall dreaming about going to Africa, way back then....but like the prospect of me flying to the moon feels impossible today, so did an African encounter then. It was never going to happen. Never. No doubt about it.

Stepping my middle class white girl feet onto devastated African soil last year was absolutely a miracle taking place in my physical life as much as it was a miraculous God-injected enlargement of my spiritual heart. Through His nudge and His faithfulness, without (me) ever planning a moment of that to take place in my life, He created my African encounter. I met children and children met me. Amazing things took place. What if I hadn't gone? Who knows?

If I could redesign my life today, map out my future and follow the steps, those steps would lead to Africa. My family and I would reside there and we would love on the village around us. We would share love and food. We would praise. We would teach. We would nurse wounds and heal hearts. But I'm not in control of my life. That might not be Gods' plan. Who knows?

The Lord knows.

Zimbabwe - 17 more days

Stacking Bricks

My past and future experiences in Zimbabwe are officially racing through my blood and beating with extra power in all 4 chambers of my heart. I'm obsessed. Cannot get Zim out of my mind.

The experiences from last year flood my memory like a wave. There are specific children I cannot wait to see. They will not understand when they see me and I am sobbing because I miss them and love them. Especially the ones who do not even speak English. They will most likely remember all of my hugs and kisses, because that is what I am famous for. There is one little boy I can smell. I can smell him right now. His dirty hair and skin. His unclean sweater. I can smell him right this minute and could cry a river. When I held Shawn this morning in my garden chair, I could literally sense that in a 3 weeks, with the same love, I'll hold others. It is bizarre to say the least. But it is a love God gave me. That is all I know. And I'm thankful for it. Love in abundance.

My future experiences are meeting me in my sleepy dreams. I have no idea what special things will occur on this trip. I cannot predict, but my mind is working overtime in the expectation that I will come home more filled than I could imagine. I keep remembering the letter that I received via email, from Sarah in Zimbabwe who told me "I remember everything you told me about God". What if our conversation really made a difference in our life? What if God really worked through me to reach her? My heart could pound right out of my chest this very moment. I want more of THAT! Oh God....please.

I am continuing to raise more and more, almost having raised enough funds to sponsor every teenager in the Rose of Sharon Orphange Home, to go to a Christian camp in December. If you want to sponsor a child to go to this camp, the cost is $80. Please contact me and I'll let you know how. It is going to be an amazing, life changing, faith increasing experience for every child. I just wish I could go to camp with them in December to witness the immeasurable increase in their hope and faith. This is what they need at this time in their lives....as they are about to be too old to stay in the orphanage home. When a teen leaves their only home and venture out onto the streets of Zimbabwe...there is little hope.

So, for now....I dedicate as much snuggle time with Asher and Shawn as I can before I leave. Last year, God curbed the intensity of my withdrawals from them. He will again. But I still feel bricks stacking up in my heart and the dreaded anticipation of those tearful goodbye kisses.

Zim babies....I'm coming soon.

ZimAgain

I cannot decide whether to dance around my house or fall on my knees. It looks like I'm going back to Zimbabwe in November.

If you have a desire to and are able to contribute to my fundraising...please contact me.

But for now, I'm dancing and praying.

I cannot wait to see these children again, and the precious teenage girls who rocked my world.

Zim, baby!

Ds in the DR

This is Maria. She lives in the Dominican Republic, and has Down syndrome, (Ds). She is 16. As soon as I spotted her out of the 50-60 kids that came to play with us the first Saturday we were there, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Every person with Down syndrome is a learning and heartwarming experience for me. Maria was no different. We couldn't speak the same language, but we played peek-a-boo and hide & seek. She was very flirty with me. Maybe I gave her far more attention than she is used to.

This is the community she lives in, referred to as "The Hole". Poverty, drugs, HIV/Aids, and sex are the norm in her neighborhood. Saying goodbye to her was hard on my heart. In the Dominican Republic, there is no Federal Early Intervention, speech therapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy, and Susan Gray school. There are no food stamps, WIC, or unemployment compensation. It is a different world, to say the least.

Notice the garbage in her community and the hand constructed dwellings.

This is home.

So Blessed

I cannot believe that I am boarding a plane in 9 hours to fly to The Dominican Republic with a few other people from my church. I was so worked up and anxious before going to Zimbabwe...probably because (A) I had never left the country (B) I traveled alone into an unknown situation, and (C) It takes 2 whole days to get there. I have no anxiety over this trip to the DR... because (A) not only have I left the country before....I've been to frickin Africa, (b) I'm traveling into a known situation with people I am familiar with, and (c) It only takes 4 1/2 hours to fly there. Big difference.... but quite the same scenerio. I'm going to a country that has unbelievable levels of poverty. I won't state here everything that I expect....because I'd rather just tell you what I experienced, when I get back. I feel like tonight is just a regular night, but it is not. It is, once again, the night before God will do a work in my heart and in my life that He expects me to grow from. The night before He allows something to manifest in me for His greater good and His big picture purpose. What? Not sure. But it will hit me the same way Africa hit me......right in my heart. And I beg that He will never let me let go of whatever it is. I beg that He will never again allow me to be spoiled in my American ways. I beg that He will allow my heart to suffer forever from what it will feel in these far off places. I just do.

So, adios sweet people who visit here often. Say prayers please..... just for my heart to be wide open and for the Spirit to move through me...and that I not get in His way. I love my savior, our savior. I love Him. I'm so blessed and so thankful that He is allowing me to do anything at all in the poverty stricken worlds that wait for Him.

I'm so thankful for every dime that was raised by every soul that had a heart for helping to send me to The Dominican Republic. And for the record....if you helped me but have not received a thank you card from me....please let me know...because that would mean that I was not aware of your contribution. Please please please let me know if you were a part of this...(if I haven't already acknowledged you and shared my gratitude).

I'll be home soon. I'll take photos and I will write here when I get home.

Jesus and Aunt Peggy

So, I've told ya'll about my stalkers before. I've learned more this week about others of my readers. It is so funny to me that people I don't even know...(not even in the blogosphere) are checking in to read my blog on a regular basis. Some of my very best friends don't even come here. They think they know everything about me without reading my blog. Boy, are they wrong! They miss some of the best stories about my kids. Truthfully.....once I document it here, it is kinda out of my system, and I rarely feel the need to mention it by mouth. Sometimes I do.......but not much.

Today, I got an email from my Aunt Peggy stating how she has been checking everyday and that I haven't updated in a while. Well, here it is exactly... "Ok - you're disappointing me. I log on every morning for your news and you haven't "blogged" for a few days. I'm anxiously awaiting." I feel so special....and also under such pressure. I have nothing special or poetic to say....today. Sorry. But I got to thinking....Peg.....if we're to have a one-sided conversation here, I'm betting you know me better now than ever in my history. Wouldn't you say that is true? And you know my kids without getting to see them but once a year. You're getting to know their personalities, their misgivings, their gifts, their spirits and their hearts. It means so very much to me that you (and others) come here to read about our lives and our hearts. I've always done this.....always written it all down. I've kept journals for years. I've typed out letters to nobobdy....for years and years..... the difference now is that there are readers. I'm so glad that you are here sharing my life with me. I wish you would start blogging so I could be more a part of yours. (smiles)

I am leaving in 8 days to go to the Dominican Republic. I really can't believe it. Everything surrounding this trip is entirely different than when I went to Zimbabwe. This time, I'm going with other people from my church. My total air time is only about 4 1/2 hours. I'll only be away from my children for 1 week instead of 2. I will be doing physical work instead of loving on children in an orphange (although I am hoping to meet some kids). I'll be sleeping in an open-air dorm, with bunk beds, with other women....instead of having a private room all to myself with glass windows. Another major difference is that I will not have access to a computer at all, while i am there....I'm almost certain of this. The ONLY way I will get to check email or blog is if someone else sneaks in a laptop and they happen to share it with me. I'm not counting on this. It will be hard for me. I will not get to receive updates about my kids and email messages to daddy to read to them. I'll not get to pour out what I'm feeling and thinking in a way that brings me much comfort and release. I will take a journal.....but the instant gratification of posting a blog....will not be mine. I'm a bit bummed about this. But I promise I will blog blog blog when I get home.

So I'll just end this post by saying I love Jesus and Aunt Peggy.

Nighty Night!

Passport

I am going to the Dominican Republic soon...well, early March. It hardly seems possible. I still have Zimbabwe on my brain everyday. I cannot wrap my mind around another desperate need, in an entirely different part of the world....but I'll be on my way to another part of the world where children are starving. This time, I'll be focused on physical work work work. I'm excited about that. Most of the physical work I do revolves around cosmetic improvements. I love to paint, landscape, install hardware, change out lighting, even plumbing fixtures. But in the DR, I'll be helping to construct a feeding center and a church. A church that will reach the community for the Kingdom of Christ and a feeding center that will provide nourishment and extend life, day by day.....literally. I'll be honest.....there is a part of this that I do not want to do. I'm not looking forward to flying again....as I still have not recovered from my last flight....my sinuses are messed up and I'm even having some inner-ear dizziness and balance issues. I'm not looking forward to the smells. This time, I'm traveling with a group....whom I mostly do not know...but a group I'll belong to none-the-less, and therefore I might not have time to be by myself, to pray, to regroup, to ponder and process, etc. What if my back hurts? What if I re-injure my wrist? And blah blah blah........ but I am going. And once again, I am going in the hope that I can make even a small difference in the kingdom. I just love the Lord, and I'm thankful He has put these missions on my heart. He is doing an amazing work IN me and I hope to work it out FOR Him.

Thank you to all who have helped me raise the money! I am so blessed and grateful. My goal is almost met....and I could not have done this without the support of others. God Bless you sweet ones!