So today there is something heavy on my heart. For me, this blog has been about sharing my heart and hopefully inspiring others to get involved with something that matters to you. But today, I am just really sad. And there is something we can do about it.
The numbers on HIV/AIDS in Africa are staggering. If you've been out of the loop on HIV for the last 10 years, I encourage you to pick up a book or two and get affected by what is happening in our world. Melissa Fay Greene's book "There is No Me Without You: One Woman's Odyssey to Rescue Her Country's Children" is a fabulous choice and you won't be the same. She writes on the political, economic, and cultural impacts of this pandemic. You will learn more about the disease than you thought possible. If you are more interested in a Christian's response to AIDS, then try Tom Davis' "Red Letters". I've just started "When God Stood Up: A Christian Response to AIDS in Africa" by James Cantelon, and I'll let you know what I think. My point is we should all know what is happening, because these are real people, real kids, real parents and grandparents. And they aren't that far away.
Chris and I contribute to AHOPE's orphanage for HIV+ children. The amazing thing is that America now allows these vulnerable kids to be adopted here. Adoption of these kids is undeniably saving a life. Actually, we save 2 lives with each adoption. For every kid that gets to come home to a new family and excellent medical care, there is a newly opened spot in the orphanage for another child who will definitely die without this chance. Can you think of anything you could do with your life that would more clearly make a difference for eternity? You may not be able to adopt one of these kids, but I have no doubt that you could support other people who can.
Today I am so sad because AHOPE has lost 3 children in the last 5 weeks or so. Since the introduction of ARVs to their care of kids, they haven't lost a child in years. They are devastated. And I think we should be too. In April a little 1 year-old girl came to the orphanage very sick with AIDS and died. In early May a 7 year-old girl died of complications of the measles. Then this week a 5 year-old girl died of a bacterial infection. A heartbreaking part of this last death is that she has a 10 year-old brother who is HIV-. He loved his sister very much and insisted that he would only be adopted with her. So people were working hard to find them a family together. Now he is completely alone, facing a much different future than he hoped for. My heart breaks for this boy. - For the loss of his little sister and the life that he hoped for with her.
But the thing that has hit me hard is that if more of us took the step out of our comfortable lives to make a difference in kids' lives who desperately wait, then this little girl and her brother could be alive and healthy together in a family today. One of us could be blessed with sharing and guiding their lives. We could be the ones to hold them in their grief, take pictures at band concerts and soccer games, laugh at their silly antics, and help them make decisions about what they will do and be in their lives. We could have been the ones to smile and cry with pride on a wedding day, and we could have been the grandparent someday trying to hide a smile as we watched them struggling to parent a strong-willed toddler. We could have been the ones offering support through all the trials of life and stopping ourselves at times to reflect on how in the world God allowed our path to cross theirs. These kids deserved that. And we have missed out. This little girl's story ended this week. Her brother's is changed forever.
Let's do something. At the very least check out some resources. The links are on the side of this blog.
AHOPE is the agency and orphanage working exclusively with HIV+ children in Ethiopia. They have an orphanage, and now run a community outreach center for kids who are able to stay with their families (check out my last post). There is lots of great info on their website. The American side of the agency is based in Washington state.
Chances by Choice is an agency that works to find families for orphans with HIV worldwide.
Many adoption agencies are getting involved with HIV adoption. But one of the leaders is Adoption Advocates International. They now have a staff member who is devoted to providing information and helping families make this decision. They subsidize a bit of the costs for HIV+ kids. They work with AHOPE and Kidane Mhiret in Ethiopia, and are working with China to be able to adopt HIV+ kids.
A new agency that I am so excited about is From HIV to HOME, and you have to check out their website. They are raising awareness, and have by far the best information on parenting a child with HIV that I have seen. They answered so many questions I didn't even know I had! They are also setting up funds to provide grants to families who adopt HIV+ kids. They have lots of ideas on how to get involved. So exciting!
I'm adding another one that a blogger friend just told me about (thanks Melinda!). It definitely looks great too! Go check out Project HOPEFUL. Lots of support, information, and hope from kindred spirits.
So we are too late to save the lives of these 3 girls and so many other victims of HIV/AIDS. But there is still time to do something powerful in the lives of the kids who are still fighting for their lives. At the very least let's all work to support the people working so hard to care for these kids. They need donations and financial support. Let's support the families that adopt HIV+ kids and give them so much more than medical care.
And maybe today is the day to explore that flicker of interest you have been trying to quench. Maybe you are one of those families...
There is so much going on for us right now. We are neck-deep in some major decisions. Hopefully I'll have news to share in the next couple of weeks!
But there is one thing left from my Ethiopia experience that keeps creeping into my heart, urging me try to put words to what is churning around inside me.
On our last day in Ethiopia, most of us drove over to AHOPE's new community outreach center to lend some of our energy to making classrooms beautiful. I'll back up a bit in case you aren't familiar with AHOPE.
AHOPE has changed and grown and restructured over the last few years. It was started basically as a hospice for HIV+ children, many with HIV- siblings who went to other orphanages to be adopted. Many people worked hard on behalf of these beautiful children. - Children who were dying from a disease that is now treatable in most of the world. AHOPE was able to get ARV medications, and everything changed for these kids. They are now able to have their HIV status monitored, and when they need medication, it is available to them. They now attend school and lead normal lives. Many of the kids are simply on a multi-vitamin for now. Chris and I sponsor a boy at AHOPE, which is one of the ways that the costs are covered.
Then recently America opened its doors to allow HIV+ children to be adopted. Now these kids can join families and receive excellent medical care. Many of the children who have been adopted here respond so well to the medications that their viral load is small enough that the virus is almost impossible to give to someone else. They are able to look toward a future as bright as anyone else's. It is a disease that is similar or even less of an issue than other chronic medical conditions such as diabetes or hepatitis. There are many other orphanages that also have HIV+ kids in Ethiopia, and other agencies are beginning to show interest in adoption of HIV+ kids.
One really exciting thing that AHOPE has started is a community outreach center. This is a place where kids can come for the day to go to school, get their medicine, and still live with the family they have left. In the past, relatives would have to make the hardest decision imaginable and turn kids over to an orphanage because they didn't have the means to treat HIV, and the stigma is still so huge. This project is allowing kids to stay in their family and community. This holds huge promise for the future. Hopefully the stigma around HIV will lessen as people see these kids living healthy, happy lives. The more kids that can stay connected with their families and get an education has huge benefits to a society that has been so deeply impacted by HIV. Adoption will always be only an option for a few. AHOPE is onto something huge here, and it was so great to be able to see it.
To respect the kids' confidentiality, no pictures of the community center are allowed, but here are some of our murals. The kids played outside while we painted, and for me this experience was a highlight of my trip.
Spending time in Africa, and seeing for myself how hard HIV/AIDS has hit our neighbors, was really hard. I believe wholeheartedly in adoption, and I couldn't be more excited and supportive of HIV+ adoption. But when you look at a country (and a continent) with your own eyes and see and hear the magnitude of the impact of this disease it is beyond overwhelming.
AHOPE's community outreach program holds so much hope and promise. My hope is that this place can be a model for how communities can respond to HIV+ kids all over Africa. Our world is losing millions of people to this disease. We have already lost too much of the middle generation. We have the ability to not only save the youngest generation, but to watch them grow, thrive, study, and lead their countries.
There are very exciting things happening, and many places that we can be used!
More to come...
Today the world lost one of the greatest "willing hearts" of all time. If you somehow missed her story, then I'm glad you stopped by.
There are so many people throughout history who laid their lives down to save others. In the most oppressive and dangerous times, some human hearts soar above their unimaginable circumstances to accept a higher call. These people choose not to turn their backs on strangers. They step out of their privileges and choose to make a difference for as long as they can.
I thought about naming Irena Sendler to some sort of "Willing Hearts Hall of Fame" until I read a quote she made last year at the age of 97. She said, "Every child saved with my help and the help of all the wonderful secret messengers, who today are no longer living, is the justification of my existence on this earth, and not a title to glory". I realized that she didn't place much value in being honored. But I bet she wouldn't mind more people knowing what happened when she was a young welfare social worker in Poland.
Irena was 29 in 1939, Warsaw, Poland at the beginning of WW2. Poland issued a death penalty for anyone helping a Jewish person. Jewish people were taken by force to a large ghetto which they would probably never leave. Irena decided not to turn her back as I am sure she was instructed. I can only imagine the fear and panic that must have been pervasive in her country at that time. She led a group of people that chose to put their lives on the line. Maybe they were restless and intense, as some of us are. Maybe some of them had already spent their lives serving others, while some had lived comfortable lives until the atrocities in their community began. Probably they all had a feeling of urgency that they didn't have much time. - They didn't.
In October 1940 they began rescue efforts. They went into the ghetto, pretending to be working, and brought children out in ambulances, trams, baskets, and probably anything else available. Sometimes the children were wrapped up as packages. Irena helped teens escape when they were forced to labor outside the ghetto. The children were hidden in homes, while Irena recorded their names in hopes of tracking families when the war was over.
They worked until April of 1943 when the Nazis destroyed the ghetto, and sent any survivors to the death camps. Irena was arrested and sent to prison. I don't think any of us can possibly imagine what a Nazi prison at that time was like. She was tortured but refused to tell of the work she had been part of. I can only imagine the anger in Heaven as she endured the physical torture that left scars for the rest of her life. Her friends from an underground group paid a bribe, and miraculously she was released. She had hidden her lists of names in a jar that she buried under a tree in a friend's yard. The jar held 2,500 children's names. In 2 1/2 years, she and the other messengers saved the lives of 2,500 children.
Breathe that in for a moment. 2,500 children that were able to survive the war and the torturing of their people. They survived to grow up and become parents and grandparents. Each of those 2,500 lives holds a story of their own. Their story would have been extinguished at the hands of genocide, and no one would have ever known their names. All because a small group of people led by a 29 year-old social worker decided they would rather lose their lives than turn their backs.
Irena's story smashes the fears inside me that hold me back. Sometimes you just decide to step out and do what needs to be done. Few of us will ever face a choice of the magnitude that Irena and the secret messengers faced. Imagine if the scary paths we feel called to: adoption, relief work, missions, HIV/AIDS work, foster care, working with inner city youth, people in recovery, people facing homelessness etc. carried a death penalty for our involvement.
Tomorrow, and the next day, let's throw our fears out the window and embrace making a difference, in honor of Irena and her friends. I have a feeling that is the kind of honor that she would appreciate most.
Info for this post taken from "Irena Sendler, social worker who saved 2,500 Jewish children from Holocaust, dies at age 98" by Monika Scislowska, Associated Press Writer. A biography by Anna Mieszkowska titled "Mother of the Children of the Holocaust: The Story of Irena Sendler" was published in 2005. Hallmark has begun producing a movie based on Mieszkowska's book.
I can relate to Kay's feelings of living in the shadow of her husband. I think it is easy to feel like the shadow of anyone in our lives that seems greater. Could be a sibling, a best friend, a spouse, or even a child. Anytime our lives seem consumed with holding everything together so someone we care about can do the things they love, or have been called to, can feel like living in a shadowland.
Kay says her feelings began to scare her. She writes of her decision to surrender herself to God's will, and what she believes the cost may have been if she hadn't. "Prayers of surrender have the power to radically alter the course of our lives. I have no doubt that if I had not decided to surrender - to take up the cross of self-denial - my marriage would have begun to deteriorate. I would have grown increasingly bitter toward and resentful of Rick, which would have led to friction and conflict. I would have seen him as an enemy to undermine rather than a partner to build up."
As I was thinking through what she said in relation to living alongside my own fantastic husband, I realized that her words also have another spiritual lesson. I know so many people who love God and served their faith communities deeply and sacrificially (including Chris and I). Over time, either burnout, slow-seeping bitterness over our sacrifices, or toxic relationships within the church lead us to disillusionment. We try to compartmentalize our feelings of hurt and anger and direct them to God's church and not to God Himself. But it is hard to separate them sometimes. We may feel we are standing in the shadows of what we feel God promised, or what we deserve after years of service. Our bitterness can affect our relationship with our Father slowly and quietly until we don't even realize what has happened. We could substitute God's name for Rick's in Kay's quote above. We find ourselves holding onto a thin thread of the faith that used to wrap around us. Surrendering to God's will and His promise that He will use all circumstances to His glory strikes me as the only path back. Letting go of the frustrations, and confusion, and hurt, knowing that we may never understand "why" in this lifetime, are essential to healing our faith and stepping out of the shadows.
Kay writes about Jesus' post-resurrection appearances with the disciples. Jesus tells Peter to follow Him, even if it means going where he does not want to go. Peter stops and looks back at the other disciples, and asks about them. Kay writes, "The next words are the ones that shattered my argument with God. Jesus puts an end to any potential protest 'It's not fair! 'You've got favorites!' 'You love him more than you love me!' He simply says, "Peter, if I want John to remain alive until I come back, what is that to you? You follow me."
No part of faith should include comparing ourselves to others. I also think we need to be careful to not compare our present circumstances to what we feel God should have done with our lives. We may look back later and see His plan unfolding, or we may never see the connections He is forming.
I love what she says toward the end of the chapter: "Following Jesus is to offer to him all that you think are, all that you really are, all that you think you are not, and all that you really are not - to be used in the way he chooses. It is stepping down from the throne in the Kingdom of Me and joining a new Kingdom - the Kingdom of God. It's following him, even when following makes no sense."
In order to be used in great ways, I think we need to spend some time sorting through what our surrender really means. If it is on our terms or only to the extent of what we understand or feel is fair, we will always be limited in what we can do. We will also be vulnerable to every stumbling block that lies in our path. So I think if our surrender is complete and "dangerous" as Kay describes, and we spend time making sure that it stays at that depth, then we will get out of our own way, step out of the shadows, and follow the path Jesus takes us on.
What do you think?
9 years ago today, Chris and I began our marriage. So much has happened in that time, that I can barely remember that far back. I vaguely remember a wedding. I do remember Chris surprising me afterwards with an overnight to an island by our house before we flew to Hawaii. It was such a beautiful idea - but I was so exhausted from all the stress of the wedding week that I slept for 13 hours straight once we got there! Fortunately, we were well rested when we headed to Hawaii, and Chris turned 25 on the plane.
We lived for a year in a cabin Chris bought the year before we married. All 450 square feet of it - with 2 dogs and 3 cats! We didn't see much of each other since I worked days and Chris worked swing shift and played in a band. Then we bought a 4 bedroom house and took in our first kid - a 16 year-old, and I found out I was pregnant. Everything has pretty much been a whirlwind since.
Through it all, I can't imagine a better friend, husband, and parenting partner than Chris. He steadies me and slows me down. He thinks I'm funny and pretty, weird and difficult. The day I married him I knew that he would be the only one for me, regardless of how many years our lives hold - this was the love for my entire life. I love watching how much his kids adore him. And I wish I was better at showing him how much I adore him. He supports my interests and beliefs, and I've worked to support all of his. It took me too many years to realize that he needs to write and play music like the rest of us need air to breathe. I've let go of the jealousy and welcomed his need to retreat to the garage. I miss the studio we built at our old house. He loved having his place and peace out there. Hopefully one day we will build another. For now, recording equipment and music gear fill up our bedroom and the garage. And I couldn't be happier to share the space.
Chris has taught me so much. I've learned to love and be loved, and I've learned to rest in strong and sure commitment. I've learned patience - with others and with myself. Hopefully he has learned a thing or two along the way too. That sometimes you just need to dance, and it helps sometimes to just dive in and swim around in your dreams for awhile.
We have shared such deep grief at losing some of the kids that have grown in our home. I don't think there is anything quite as intimate as grief. It will either tear you apart from the inside out, or break down your walls and build you up together stronger than before. For us, those losses can never quite be described to anyone else. We have held each other while the tears flowed and our chests and stomachs hurt. We have shared the guilt of feeling like we are just another link in a long chain of broken relationships in a kid's life, or that we could have done things better while we had them. And we have also learned together to let go of it all, and trust that we played the part we were asked to. We've learned to realize that God loves the kids more than any of us could, and He is the one relationship that never has to be broken in their lives.
I love that we have the same values around living intentionally and raising our kids to think critically and love deeply. I also love dreaming together about what God has equipped us to do, and where we should take this family He has given us. We have shared so much change, and growth, and new experiences together.
But I have this sneaking suspicion that the best is yet to be...
Happy Anniversary Chris!
So these are the ladies at Layla House who hand wash the laundry of the entire place. They hang it up at the back of the compound, and all is well unless there is a downpour. When it is nicely dry and stiff, it is brought into the cafeteria and the kids fold it and claim their clothes.
I watched the laundry process with interest for two reasons. The first one is that as the mom of a family of 7, including several children who love to work in the dirt, laundry is a major part of my life. I used to tell people that two of my best friends were my washer and dryer.
The second reason behind my laundry-fascination is that in January my beloved front-loading washer had enough. There was a horrendous grinding, banging, and very loud thumping. It was so loud, that our toddler at the other end of the house started to scream in fear, the walls started to shake, and for just a split second I thought the big earthquake had finally hit (we've been preparing for it in the Northwest since before I was born). When I realized it was the washer, I was pretty sure it might explode. I've never moved that fast inside the house. I turned it off and then watched the cylinder inside grind to a halt. What I didn't know until days later is that the whole drum broke off of whatever is supposed to hold it.
Through a series of very unfortunate events, we lived without a washer for exactly 4 weeks. Our bottom point came when in a single night before 1:00am we had 3 kids wet the bed, and for various unfortunate reasons, no pull-up saved us. I considered having a breakdown that night, but reminded myself that the laundromat was only 2 miles away and opened early. (It was also one of those times when as bleary-eyed Chris and I carried the soaked bedding of #3, we passed each other in the hall, exchanged a sympathetic look, and I smiled to myself at how much I love this man. Through all the years of struggle, surprises, and joy we have experienced together, when things go terribly wrong we still silently pull together and do what needs to be done. I can't imagine sharing my life with anyone better.)
I gave up on dreams of it being fixed quickly after the 2nd week and resigned myself to my new routine at the laundromat. I felt proud and a little martyrish as I ran in between kid trips to all their schools and activities to throw up to 4 loads at a time into the washers. Then I'd swing by an hour later with my plastic bags and collect the wet clothes to take them to my working dryer at home. I surprised myself at the ease with which I transitioned out of my dependence on my washer. I even told Chris that maybe we didn't need one anymore. - This whole deal was working pretty well. But then our washer was finally fixed, and I went back to the convenience of washing AND drying our never-ending loads at home.
So I marveled at the work that goes into the laundry process at Layla. But I didn't appreciate the full extent of their work, because in my month of washer-less days, I forgot one important thing.
The stomach flu.
We just survived a week of the stomach flu at our house. I can honestly say now that our washer is my best friend. Several loads of the kids' bedding had to go through twice, and I had to spray one blanket out in the driveway before I even dared put it in the washer.
This week I have only the highest admiration for the laundry staff at Layla. I pray for strong hands, backs of steel, cheerful perseverance, gloves that never rip, and most of all - mercy when it comes to the stomach flu.
