I’ve been back from Guatemala for a few days, and I had forgotten how much trouble I have coping when I get home.  I have trouble concentrating.  I find myself being irritable about things that shouldn’t bother me.  I sit and stare at the wall, thinking about orphans.  And that’s me coping well after 8 trips!

I traveled with two friends who hadn’t been on an international mission trip yet, and it was good to see the experience again through fresh eyes.  They were both wonderful with the boys, gifted in different ways, and processing all they saw in different manners.  Both have been changed by the few days in Guatemala and are working at reconciling the ways that God is changing their views of the world and their roles in it.

It’s difficult to see the level of poverty that exists in other parts of the world.  Dirt floors, 14 people living in a one bedroom home, and primitive facilities.  It’s hard for us in the U.S. to understand what it looks like for hundreds of children to live in an orphanage with no mommy or daddy, desperate for a hug or a kiss, hoping and asking “please don’t forget us.”  And it should be bothersome.  It should be upsetting, and it should shove all the other less important stuff to the edges.

It would be easier to be unaffected by orphans and missions.  To get back to work at home with the business of doing the mundane.  It would be less painful if we cared less.  I remind myself that the Holy Spirit is also the great Comforter, and that we only experience the blessing of being comforted when we are uncomfortable and upset.  Who needs God to draw close and wrap his arms around us when we are content, comfortable, and in control?  As much as I dislike the unsettled feelings, it is in midst of that mixed up mess of thoughts and feelings that God is nearer and his heart is more known in my life.

It’s hard to write something coherent on the last day of the mission trip.  My brain is full of images, thoughts, reflections, sadness, joy, and the list goes on.  There is much to say about the wonderful visits we had, and there is a great deal that God has taught each of us as we have tried in our own sloppy ways to follow his heart for orphans in Guatemala.

A few things my mind is tripping over tonight:

• We had breakfast at the home of my friend Berta.  It was such a blessing to enjoy the hospitality of my Guatemalan friends.  I was humbled by their generosity.
• We cooked lunch for the boys at Eliza Martinez.  Nate & Rachael took care of salad and bread.  Shawn & Wendy took care of the pasta.  Adam and I make sugar cookies, with decorating help from two great kids named Christian and Jefferson.  They were so focused on precise placement of sprinkles.  The plates were full of food and looked delicious.  Things didn’t go quite according to plan (they rarely do, really), but everything turned out just as it should have been.  The meal was capped off by a young man named Hans making a speech thanking us for coming and for lunch.  He told us that each of them holds us in their hearts.
• We brought piñatas for the boys to beat with sticks.  They enjoyed the treats, and  probably also beating something with a stick.
• Rachael and Nate taught some of the kids the dance from Michael Jackson’s Thriller video.  ‘Nuff said.

It was a day that was bittersweet.  Such a good day of loving on the kids, showing them God’s love.  So sad to leave them, knowing that they experience a poverty of affection, resources, and relationship that I only understand pieces of.  I continue to pray for them.  I hold them in my heart, too.

Today held one of the moments I’d been looking forward to: seeing Christel again.  She’s one of my favorites, a sweet and smart little girl who I held on my first trip when she was just a sick baby.  Now she is healthy and has an infectious laughter, and you can’t help but smile along with her.  It was good to see her again in a lovely new home with nannies who obviously have great affection for her.  She came to me easily and wrapped her arms around me, laying her head of my shoulder.  And I closed my eyes and sighed.

Our time with the boys at Eliza Martinez this afternoon flew by.  We talked to the boys about being polite and respecting others.  About getting a job and wearing a tie.  About taking care of the bodies God gave them, as well as their neighbors.  We brought neck ties for all the boys to practice tying a tie, and it was amazing to see them watch Shawn, Nate, and Adam with rapt attention as they followed along with the demonstration.  It is a rare thing that brings that much quiet and focus to these boys.  We played games and passed out candy and trading cards.  Rachael ended the day with a bit of urine on her leg.  Adam may be responsible for a riot over candy.  Wendy is a rock star, and having your picture taken with her quite the thing to do. 

Tomorrow we’re looking forward to preparing lunch with, and for, the boys.  We’ll work on following directions, what it takes to prepare a meal, working together, and serving one another.  I think about the meals Jesus shared with so many other people, sitting with them, feeding them, relaxing with them.  It will be a good day with them, yet also a hard last day.  It’s so hard to leave them, even knowing that we’ll be back.

This was our first full day of missions in Guatemala City, and it was a great day.  We started with a trip with Compassion International to visit Shawn and Wendy Wallace’s sponsored child and his family.  My sponsored child, Miguel, had a family emergency and was out of town.  Shawn and Wendy took groceries to Irma and her family, as well as treats for their sponsored child Samuel and his siblings.  It was great to see the projects Compassion is involved with, but there was nothing to compare to the honor of being invited into this family’s home to get to know them.

They live in a simple home with a partially dirt floor, but it was evident that Irma had cleaned everything for us.  The children were excited about their presents, and they loved the chocolate milk.  At the end of the visit, we circled around the family in the middle of their main room with the dirt floor, and we prayed for their family.  It was one of those moments where I am absolutely certain that God is very near and that this moment is part of his plan and pleasure.  I left their home feeling like we had had church, we’d been to church, we are the church.

Our afternoon at Eliza Martinez was so much fun.  We talked to the kids about how God desires for us to care for our bodies, that we were created in his image, and that he said making us was “good”.  We practiced hand-washing and teeth-brushing, hoping to teach them some basic health skills and tasks that they will need to be independent with when they are on their own.  We took pictures, handed out the Foreign Exchange gifts, and the kids loved their photo albums, pouring over all the pictures and showing them off.  We played baseball and shared lots of hugs and kisses.

It’s good to see all the levels of God’s work today.  Maryland Community Church is doing a great thing by praying for and providing the gift of relationship and attention to these boys.  There are people in Indiana who may never see Guatemala, but they love a Guatemalan child in the name of God.  There are people who come to visit these kids, who are the hands and feet of Jesus.  Those hands wipe snotty noses and fit nicely around the shoulders of a lonely child.  Those feet run to play games and play tag.  The church met up and prayed together in 2 different languages today.  And I’m pretty sure God smiled while his children played.

I’m leaving again for Guatemala on Thursday for a quick trip to continue the work our church and our brothers and sisters have started with some a bunch of strong, beautiful, brilliant orphans.  The weeks and days leading up to the trip are full of details, things like budget, schedule, emails, packing, and other mundane tasks.  But in the midst of that, my mind starts filling with images of children, locations, and a hundred memories of laughing and crying.

When we drove up to the Wisconsin for vacation as a child, we’d get so excited when we would pass certain landmarks on the journey, indicating that we were getting closer and closer to our destination.  That’s how I feel getting ready for Guatemala.  The sights, sounds, scents (good and bad) come back faster and faster the closer I get.

We’ll be doing some life skills training with the boys, working on things like hygiene, cooking, proper greetings, and the like.  We’ll be visiting the toddlers we’ve grown to love, bringing them toys and smiles in their new home.  But I’m also looking forward to the look on Tomas’s face when he sees me again, the delight in the eyes of the special needs kids when they receive a small gift, the chance to sit with the boys and put our heads together to work on a craft, and the chance to put my hands on them with a prayer and a touch of affection.

I’ll be blogging throughout the trip, as will my friends Shawn and Nate & Rachael.  Stay tuned.

My lament all through childhood was that it was unfair that my birthday was in January, and my brother’s birthday was in July.  He had birthday pool parties with ice cream cakes outside on the picnic table; my birthday parties were often canceled due to weather conditions.

The most memorable birthday I experienced involved one of those canceled birthday parties.  Snow was falling and drifting, and the temperature was dropping rapidly.  And since we weren’t having company to the house, Dad decided that he would deliver space heaters to a family in need.

They were a family we knew through school, with the oldest girl playing softball with me in the summers.  They were a family known at school to be poor  but I hadn’t been to their house yet.  Theirs was a big farm house they were renting, and the whole house was heated by a single wood burning stove in the living room.  The living room was nice and toasty, while the rest of the house was frigid.

We drove the 4 miles to their home in the mustard yellow truck, my dad, my brother, and I.  We delivered the heaters and visited for a while, and when we went out to the truck which had been left running, it was no longer running.  It fired back up and carried us a half mile down the road before the frozen gas line stopped our progress.  In the blowing snow.  In the cold wind.  On the ice covered road. 

My brother and I were young, maybe 8 and 10, and while Dad encouraged us that we could just follow the road back to our friends’ house and we’d be okay, we were too scared to go without him.  Even though Dad would have to walk gingerly on the ice with his crutches, going very slowly, we were willing to set out ahead of him as long as he went with us.  So, we bundled up, my brother and I walking together down the road with eyes watering and freezing from the wind.  I remember looking back to see Dad was still there coming behind us.  The other family recognized we were in trouble and met us with blankets and hot chocolate, and that wood burning stove warmed our feet as we pressed closely to it.

I think about this story often, as it has become a marker in my life for the way my parents taught me to take care of others.  It was also a very memorable birthday!  And I often think that my path is obscured by snow, and the wind is so very cold.  I can’t always see where I’m going, but there is something comforting about walking alongside someone else on the journey.  The greatest comfort is knowing that my Father is walking there with me, and just the knowledge His presence emboldens and strengthens me.

²⁹But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

³⁰In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. ³¹A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. ³²So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. ³³But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. ³⁴He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. ³⁵The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

³⁶“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

³⁷The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”
      Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

In re-reading the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10), I also ask myself the question, “Who is my neighbor”?  What does it look like for me to love my neighbor?

• It may derail me from my current purpose or task.
• It means providing hands-on care, and my hands may get messy.
• It costs money and time.
• It may require me to follow up later.
• It means I may have less “oil and wine” (or it’s equivalent) for myself.
• It means I will have to work with others and rely on others.

How often do I sigh heavily when something pops up in the midst of my day which inconveniences me and requires something of me?  And what are the odds that I’m sighing at the work God has for me?  Sighing at God?

My parents were very intentional throughout my youth to create traditions for our family.  My brother and I enjoyed a variety of family traditions as we grew up, including german chocolate cake on Christmas Eve as a birthday cake for Jesus (Dad maintains that it’s Jesus’s favorite cake), communion on Christmas Eve after attending church, stockings on Christmas morning, etc.  One of my favorites involved the stockings.

When we put the stockings away, my brother and I would write on a piece of paper in a sealed envelope, for our eyes only, some information to be reviewed next year.  We wrote down 1) things we didn’t get that we really wanted for Christmas and 2) resolutions for the coming year.  I think about this tradition every year, even though my brother and I are out of the house.  It was a great lesson to consider the impermanence of those things we thought we’d die without this year, and how we don’t even remember asking for them after 12 months roll around.  It was also a lesson in setting goals and living intentionally toward being a better and more healthy person.

This year I will:

1. Be more healthy and train for the Indianapolis 500 Festival Mini Marathon, even if I just walk it.
2. Journal as I read the Bible more consistently.
3. Be hospitable more frequently with friends and family.
4. Make bread from scratch.
5. Travel to a city I’ve never visited.
6. Put more stamps in my passport.

This little boy has been on my mind all day.  We met in Guatemala about 3 years ago, when he also met his parents.  Juan Pablo was an orphan, abandoned by his parents after he was burned in a home accident and his medical expenses became to great for his family to bear.  But God had bigger plans for Juan Pablo, including bringing John and Emily Wiggins into his life to fall in love with him and battle for 3 years to bring him home to Indiana as their son.  He arrives in Indianapolis this evening, and there will be a great host of saints there to greet him and praise God for his faithfulness and divine plan in Juan Pablo’s life.

I used to hate reading the book of Job.  It didn’t make much sense to me, and there was all this talking, talking, talking, and these 4 guys.  Then one day I read the entire book in one sitting while I was home sick with strep throat, probably because I was feeling especially Job-like and miserable, and after reading the book as one dialogue, I had a better appreciation.

Job 38: 8-11″Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt’?

I read these verses this morning and smiled.  While I’ve been diving this week, there have been some amazing scenes that turn one’s mind to God immediately.  There are schools of fish numbering in the hundreds, and they all move as one.  They all dart to the left at once, and then turn around at once, as if taking orders from someone unseen.  How do they do that?  Did God make them that way just so they would point to his creation and his design?  There is so much color underwater on a reef in the coral, the big fish, the little fish, the flat fish hiding just under the sand.  It’s all so captivating.  And then, if you look to your left, you can see the vast abyss of blue that has no beginning and no end.  All of that is God’s.  There are parts that we get to see that have his clear signature, and then there is so much more that he spoke into being which shall remain mysterious.

In my Bible, Job 38 is entitled “The LORD Speaks”.  I love that he lists off the things that he has created, the things we take for granted and do not appreciate.  God does speak loudly to Job here, and he has also been speaking to me quietly all week about his glory and his creation.