The Reflections of a Battered Missionary

I am sharing this post today as we near the five-year mark of serving orphaned and abandoned children here in The Philippines.  It feels like a lifetime and yet also seems were were just landing
in the Manila airport, six kids in tow, wide-eyed and idealistic and with no idea what we were actually doing.

These five years have been fraught  with  highs and lows that I do not believe  are accidents.  God has used every joy and every pain to shape me into the image of  His son and I have come so far. And yet, still have so very far to go.

The joys:

Our first Muslim child (without the hat) is an amazing, strong young man

Three boys from very different and very hard places forging a brotherly bond 

A 'family' birthday party to honor one of our faithful caregivers

By far, with no exception, the JOYS of serving street children outside my first culture are the kids themselves.  I have witnessed startling transformations, seen children come to salvation in Christ, reunited some with long, lost relatives who thought they were dead and have handed others over to nervous and excited adoptive parents who prayed for them before they even knew their names.
And those are just a few of the indescribable joys of life serving the fatherless.

The Pains:
I have become more cynical and jaded about people, their motives, their honesty and integrity since moving to this place. "We are NOT in Kansas anymore, Toto" .  For Reals.


And to avoid using this blog as a place of vengence, I will refrain from calling names but, when we were new here, a woman who is older than I and has been in child welfare for much longer than I reached out to mentor me.  I was grateful. She was a sister in the Lord and someone I respected immensely.  I called her with questions about everything from paperwork to how to register our newly-admitted children to public school here. Everything was so new and different.

One day, she called me to meet for coffee. I was relieved. It had been a particularly hard ministry week and I needed that time away.  When I got to the coffee shop,  she looked right into my eyes and asked me  not to "step into her sphere of influence".   I had no idea what she meant and she would not elaborate.   I did not know if she was asking me not to be friends with her staff, not to have contact with her financial supporters, not to go near her husband . . . WHAT??? What had I done? What was she afraid of?   I still do not know. We haven't spoken except via email since then and nothing has been resolved.  She only responded that whatever I had done was "confidential". That's a big fat cop out.
Just a few weeks after that confusing meeting, I received a very strong letter from someone here who is a government official in charge of the work we do. That letter accused me of kicking one of my own adopted sons out of our home and not allowing him to come near us.  The information was UNTRUE and the situation was nothing like it was presented in the note.  But then I remembered. The mentor "friend" who asked me not to step  in her "sphere" (what even IS a "sphere"?) questioned me previously about the struggles we were having with that particular adopted child.
And  I realized what a naive, trusting, wide-eyed ding bat I had been.   And vowed not to let that happen again.

If that experience had been one-of-a-kind, I would probably still be  giving more grace and less suspicion of  folks. 

BUT . . . 

And staff has stolen from us (in small amounts) and had to be fired.  Kids have told lies about us to deflect from their own misdeeds and we have had to defend ourselves unnecessarily.  But none of that holds a candle to the CALLING we have to stay here and serve street boys.

If the enemy wants us out of this country, he's going to have to do better than that.

And in these nearly five years, I have not only been wounded, I'm sure I have been the one doing the wounding.  I am no better than the "friend" with the "sphere" .  I'm wretched in my own ways.

Aren't we all?  

If you said "no, not me", you probably have a "sphere". 

I know. I need to get over that. 

Five years of living outside the USA has given me a more global perspective than I ever had. I realize that the world outside my home country is huge and different. Better in some ways and worse in others.   And that people inside and outside the States all need the same things:  Forgiveness and a relationship with their Creator, a place to  be loved and belong, the security that someone is FOR them, even when they make poor choices and mess up and just to be respected and treated with dignity - whether rich or poor, brilliant or not, productive members of society or dependent ones.

So, five years has been challenging and a blessing with overflow so rich I can not contain it all.  I would not trade it, nor change it.

Even the pains. They have a place.    

I look forward with great expectation to the next five years, lessons to learn, children to bring off the streets, new families forming and, more than all of that, a deeper walk with my Savior as He uses all the joys and all the pains. 

That is Him. 

The BIG ANNOUNCEMENT

Dear Friends, Family, Readers, Loved Ones, Donors to Our Mission and Curious Bystanders,

If you have been a friend, cyber or otherwise, for any length of time, you know that our family made an enormous move nine months ago. That move took us from Holly Springs, North Carolina - place we loved and felt so safe and secure, to Silang, Cavite Philippines - relatively unknown in every aspect for us.

We came here with a sending organization called "The Bartimaeus Project". This project is focused on serving children with blindness and visual impairments who live in orphanages here, in The Philippines.

We have taken children to eye appointments, purchased eye glasses, conducted weekly classes in our center and sponsored a life-changing surgery for a child.  We have loved being a part of those things.

There have, of course, been struggles. We are not finding many children in orphanages with blindness or visual impairment. Most orphanages don't accept them. So we opened up our service model to include some children with additional special needs - cerebral palsy, down syndrome, general learning disabilities and other issues.


Every day, as we drive to  serve the children in orphanages, we are struck with the same burning question.
WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?
We are doing work we enjoy but . . . let me put it this way . . .
have you ever had an itch in that "chicken wing" area of your back? You can scratch "around" it but you have trouble hitting the exact spot?  When you finally hit it . . . OH THE RELIEF!!!

Well, a friend took me to a shelter for street kids a month ago. Young kids, aged 5-14. Kids who milled around in a room with little to do.  I asked about the plan for these children. I was informed that if a more permanent place existed, they could go there. They are not being educated, tucked in at night, loved on or truly invested in. They are in a "holding pattern" - in the throes of being completely abandoned.  They are in limbo of the worst sort. We were undone upon meeting them.

WE FOUND THE ITCH and now we're going to scratch it!

Effective today, we will be opening our own orphanage/shelter for children in crisis.
We will no longer be serving under The Bartimaeus Project.

There are no ill feelings between us and the BP.  We know that they are doing good work and handling all donations with the utmost care and wisdom.   We know the board members are genuine in their love for the Lord and their desire to do right by orphans with blindness and visual impairments.

We also know we have to meet the needs in front of us that are the most pressing.
We are confronted daily with the plight of children with no place to call "home" and no consistent food, support, spiritual guidance  or family structure. 
So, with some sadness and immeasurable excitement, we share with you that we are starting our own orphanage/ shelter!
We are hiring a full time social worker.
We have taken children in already (details in a later post)
We are almost finished with our our Social Work Development Agency application
We even have an operations manual
We are stepping out in faith

This is even scarier than selling all of our "stuff" and moving out here because we are doing this without a board of directors. We are investing the last of what we have to shelter children who, currently, are at immense risk of harm, abuse and exploitation.

This is a childhood dream-come-true for me!  Ask my mother.  Many of my Barbie games growing up centered around Barbie and Ken taking care of 15 children! I believe God put this type of love in my heart as a child and it has taken me years to soften up and allow Him to cultivate it to this point.

WE NEED YOUR HELP NOW MORE THAN EVER!!!!


To join us in funding care for these children, log on to www.americanhelper.org , make your donation via check or online and listen to THIS:  American Helper retains only 1% of donations made through them and 99% comes DIRECTLY TO US IN THE FIELD!!!! We donated through American Helper regularly before our move to The Philippines. They fund Children's Garden, the home that lovingly provided for our precious Ariel before he was ours. We know the people handling the funding and they are people of integrity. We knew our donations went right to CG because we were thanked within just a few days of donating, most of the time.
This is such a welcome change for us in ministry.  Something we needed. 

If you choose to support us financially in the endeavor, please make a note on your check or your online giving that says "ESQUIVEL FAMILY" -- and 99% will come to us and the children at Mercy House.

Now, more than ever, we need your prayer support.  We will be sending regular newsletters so if you are interested in receiving them, please send an email to:
mercyhousepi@gmail.com.  We can share a lot more in an online newsletter than we can on social media - including pictures and write ups on the children in our care. You'll want to meet them!

Stay tuned! Buckle up! Come and see what the Lord will do! I can't wait!!!!!!!!!!

Making The Bread, And Other Failures

"Hindsight is 20/20"   I'm not sure if that is the most widely-used cliche on Earth but I'd wager it's in the top ten.
For a reason.
Looking back on life and events offers a clarity that just isn't available while you're in the throes.

I've been surveying the past a little too deeply the last few days.
Maybe because I just had a birthday.
Maybe because two of my seven  children are now homeschool graduates considering returning to the US for college.
And a third is enlisting in the US Army.

As I scroll down my facebook news feed and read up on my friends with  young children,  they are busy doing so many of the things we did and still do:
going to homeschool co-op
driving to Upward sports
planting things
baking together
studying God's word with their children
training them in righteousness
raising chickens
making bread

Yeah, the bread.
I tried many, many times as a young mother to bake bread. My best friend could do it with no recipe, with her eyes closed and with one hand tied behind her back. She could bribe me to do anything with the promise of a free loaf of her bread!

But my bread always seemed to harden to concrete somewhere between my kitchen aid mixer and my counter top.

I pretended not to care that I couldn't make bread.  But I cared. It felt like a measure of my "good wifelienss" back in the day.

And a failure.  Even women who used the wrong form of "their" and "your" could make bread. And I could not.

Today, as I use my "powers of hindsight".   I see how we strove to do what we truly believed was pleasing to the Lord in regard to raising our children.
We:
homeschooled
used Growing Kids God's Way until we didn't
we switched to Shepherding  a Child's Heart when it proved more Biblical
banned most every cartoon that had stupid fathers or rude children
watched little TV anyhow
made our children "ask for forgiveness" rather than saying "I'm sorry"
worked on the heart, not just behaviors
taught our daughter the finer points of mothering and "wifing"
helped our sons cultivate their manliness through pocketknives and shooting
joined great co-ops and went on most every field trip they offered
memorized scripture together
fell in love with Voddie Baucham, Doug Phillips, Above Rubies and all things Vision Forum
refused to limit our family size
assigned chores at early ages and expected hard work from hearts aiming to please God

I still believe many of those things DO please the Lord and ARE the best way to train the hearts of children to know and love Him. That should always be our goal as parents.

But I'm here to tell you that you can DOUBLE this list and still some children will  struggle with sin, doubt and ungodliness.
Most, I believe. Whether you want to consider this or not. Our "recipe" for perfectly Godly children often fails to account for this. 

Listen, mothers of young children!   At the tender ages of birth  until about 15 or 16, you can control the environment of your children quite nicely. We did.  You can stretch this time out even further if your child will attend Christian college and, if you're super blessed, find his/her spouse at a young age and get married.   Virtually no time in "the world" amongst "the heathen".  No influences aside from those prescribed by you.
 We were certain, beyond a doubt, that by those upper ages, our olders  were radically in love with Jesus and would, with reckless abandon, chase after Him no matter what life offered up.

And some of our children do.

But not all.

You see, there comes a time in the life of EVERY child, where his faith must become HIS faith.  Where a true laying bare of the heart happens and some children begin to question the truth of their own upbringings.  Some do this internally in just a flash and then they are right back in close communion.  Others "camp there" and wrestle with deep questions, BIG questions where faith and facts seem at odds with one another.

We see it first hand and up close and it is terrifying to watch.

Primarily, it is scary because we understand the Doctrine of Election.  We want so much to believe each of our children is predestined for a saving walk with Jesus.  The mere thought of any of our children spending eternity apart from Him is paralyzing.

Secondarily, having a child who struggles and doubts bruises the ego. It makes us question our entire approach. It makes us wonder if the striving was worth it. It is harder than concrete bread on the spirit of a mother.

Finally, we  come to the realization that it's not about us, as parents. It's about God, His Word, His promises and the hearts of our children - a place we try hard to visit often but do not live.  There comes a time, as scary as it is for us "homeschooling Mama types", that we pray the foundation we tried to lay wins out over the shrill call of the world to doubt and disbelieve.

And we lean on THIS:

Philippians 1:6  I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

And THIS:

Proverbs 22:6  Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

 And the account of the Prodigal Son and the knowledge of the sovereignty of God and we can rest a little. 

Because even when we can't make bread, and even if we leave "gaps" in the education of our children, and especially when we aim to do all that is pleasing and still fall short, HE IS ABLE!

Pray more, micromanage less.  In hindsight, that sounds so appealing. 

 

1 Thessalonians 5:24

He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.

For The Sake of The Call

If the title of this blog post sounds familiar to any of you, it should.  It is the name of a song written by Steven Curtis Chapman in the early 90s, I believe.   It impacted me so greatly that I still sing it from time to time, some 18 years later.

The chorus says "we will abandon it all, for the sake of The Call.
                            no other reason at all, but the sake of The Call.
                            Wholly devoted to live and to die for the sake
                            of The Call . . . " 

And sometimes, as I live here in the mission field, I feel sold out to The Call.
But other times,  I wish I'd never heard it.

I read an article recently that talked about an interesting timeline for people who live outside their countries of origin. This article stated that the first two to three months are filled with "wonder" at all the new experiences.  The fourth to sixth months start to get difficult as the novelty wears off.  The sixth through ninth months are characterized by finding  a "new normal" and the ninth month on marks the time when the new destination becomes as much "home" as the former.

I don't know what kind of scientific research went into this article but yes, we are in the 4-6 month zone for sure.  I love this place but it is not new and exciting anymore.  It is a dichotomy of beautiful and terrible.  The landscape is gorgeous. The people are strong, resilient and amazing.  The poverty is crushing and the needs are overwhelming.  I am getting emotional whiplash from the desperate needs I see on every side, all the time.

I never want to leave and yet, I sometimes wish I could run away.   Am I even making sense?   Probably not.   That happens after "year 40", in the life cycle of a human female, I'm afraid.

I remember blogging, years ago,  that for the sake of the Gospel of Jesus, I will walk a hard path if I'm called to.  I wrote those words in reference to parenting one of our very difficult children - that for HIM, I would do it.    I say it again now.  If living here and doing the work we do points anyone to HIM, I will do it.  And gladly.  But, make no mistake, it's getting tough.

We shared so very excitedly with all of you about the provision for the surgery of Reymart, a beautiful two-year-old boy from an impoverished family who had a huge tumor between his eyes.  Remember him? Here is his update!

BEFORE SURGERY

AFTER SURGERY

This sweet boy endured a serious procedure and was such a trooper!  His shy, quiet mother prayed to receive Christ as her savior during this process.  If THAT is the ONLY sinner's prayer I ever witness during this entire ministry in this country, it was worth it.  It was worth the selling and the coming and the stepping out.  "For the sake of The Call." 

There isn't much in life that is more humbling than listening to a woman in tears give her heart to Jesus in her own language while you pray silently in yours.  

And the thing is, I know there are other "Reymarts" out there - kids who need surgery to save or restore their vision and change their lives.  Kids from broken homes, orphaned or fatherless.  Kids who need to know how much Jesus loves them and that they are worth investing in.

I realize He can do all of this without me.  There are others, probably more qualified and more faithful, that could fill my spot on this mission field in the blink of an eye.  

But after getting a glimpse of His hand at work, I never want to be anywhere else! 

Yes the "novelty" has worn off.  I am aching with how much I miss my family and friends in the states.  

But I got to be in on THIS boy having surgery that will change his life.  I got to hear his mother pray to receive Christ. I got to hug and kiss these people and  remind them of how much they matter.  

I think I'm the spiritual equivalent of an "adrenaline junkie"!  After seeing what God has done for this little family, I am afraid to miss seeing it again.  And again.  And again.

So, until He draws us away, we are here.  For the sake of The Call. 

We covet your prayers, as always!  Please pray for our own children - that this calling of their parents draws them closer to Him and that they grow spiritually richer for having been here. 
Please pray for the child we are serving now, a gorgeous little girl who is smart, sassy and precious - that the spots of her cornea do not hold her back from seeing or from being adopted! Pray for protection for our family from the diseases that we see here: diphtheria, tuberculosis, hepatitis, water-born  amoeba  and others.

But most of all, we ask for prayer that God would keep using us up and then refilling us as He has so faithfully done thus far. When we are weak, He is strong!  That rings of more truth now than it ever has before.

We ARE weak.
He IS strong.

For The Sake of The Call. 

Somebody's Baby

She sat on my lap through almost an entire church service just last week.  She wiggled and talked too loudly.
She drew little pictures on scraps of paper and explained to me matter-of-factly that one of the smiling "heads with feet" was her and one was me.

She's a striking child with a sunshiny spirit and anyone would love to be her mother.
But not me.
She's somebody else's baby.

She is going home to an adoptive family very soon.  And as I held her on my lap, I felt so lucky.   I had flashbacks to my own adoptions and recalled just how I ached to hold my kids - even the "big ones".   I scoured the internet for any church or individual who might have visited my boys' orphanages and posted a group picture somewhere online for me to pine over.   I found youtube videos of my guys and even made cyber friends with a college girl who had been with one of my boys just the week before. Paydirt!

I hugged her a little tighter and thought "this one is from your Mama . . . to tide you over.  Just until she gets here. I know she'd want me to give it. I have been in her shoes too many times to even wonder." 

I worried before our move to this country that has given us such amazing children.  I worried I would want to adopt every child I met who did not have a family.

But I'm finding a strange phenomenon to be taking hold of my heart.  One I did not know existed for me.

I do love the children we work with.  But they are not mine.  I feel that in the most direct and no-nonsense parts of me.

They are somebody else's babies.   Even those who are not yet matched to adoptive parents.

I remember asking someone, when I was still young and single
"how do you KNOW when a man you meet is the one you're going to marry?".   And that person answered me
"you just KNOW".
That was an altogether unsatisfactory answer.  I wanted some sign. Some marker. Some concrete, tangible "thing" to hang my hat on so I would know I wasn't making a huge, life-altering mistake before saying 'I do".

But my friend was right. . . .you JUST KNOW.

I find that same advice applies to adoption for us.  Maybe it isn't like this for everyone.  Maybe many of you out there have an algorithm that tells you if a child will or will not succeed in your home.

I'm just a goofy old romantic, I guess.

I saw my boys on the Special Homefinding List and my heart kind of skipped a beat.   I felt surprised, like almost colliding with a stranger on the street when you are lost in thought.
Sometimes I looked up toward Heaven and said audibly   "again, Lord?  Really?"

But I knew it was a futile question.   Because those were NOT somebody else's babies.  They were MINE.  
And when reading through a list of 30 or 40 beautiful orphans, waiting for Mommies and Daddies, having ONE jump from the page and shout "HERE I AM"  is no small thing.

I now live in a world of orphans.  I see them all the time.  I know children in my everyday life who wait on that same Special Homefinding List that  brought me my treasures.  Wonderful kids.  Sweet, deserving, beautiful kids.

But not MY kids.

Could it be that God brought us all the way to this country with so many orphans only to tell us that none of them are ours for more than a short time?

It could be.  If it is so, I have peace there.
If not, and that lightening bolt of "oh my goodness . .. there's another one of MINE" happens,  you bloggy friends will be the
first ones I tell after I give my husband CPR.

Until then,  I relish the chance to love somebody else's babies.   Investing in a child who needs to know how precious he is  is never a waste of time, even for a moment.

And who knows? Maybe one day, I'll be on THIS side of the water and YOU will be stalking ME.
I promise not to call you crazy.
I won't laugh at your frenetic, disjointed questions or your 3am emails asking me if it is EVER going to happen.

It will.  But until it does, pray  and ask the Lord to send hugs to your  babies from the arms of another Mama.
If she's like me, she won't mind.
She'll find it an honor and she'll know. . . it's just for a little while.

I Still Do

I remember it as if it were just happening:

I was a young mother with two small children.  Three and one.   I went to a mother's morning out at a local church and met a host
of new women.  It was the first time I had ever been to a gathering designed just for moms, with a Bible study and child care completely geared toward US.

As the ladies in the group got to know each other and as we talked ad nauseam about our children, I came to the decision, in my own mind, that as children got older, their parents loved them less.

I know that's silly.   NOW.    But back then, when the moms in our group discussed the achievements of their eleven year olds or the going-off-to-colleges of their older teens, it was NOT with the unrestrained, choking-back-tears love that I had for my two babies when I even thought about them back in the child care area.    I surmised, that a mother's love for her children MUST fade
as her children grow.

The Mother Who Knew It All, and her patient, although inferior, sidekick

And then I got to know a few "mothers of many" and I became SURE that these women did not love their children as strongly as I loved mine.  I could tell by the way the children came to Mother's Morning Out . . . WITHOUT matching gymboree outfits and
individual lunch boxes with their names artistically written on them.  These women brought ONE bag with 14 pb&j sandwiches inside, ONE bag with a bunch of cut up oranges and ONE bag of popcorn for all their children to descend upon at lunch.  And much to my horror and dismay,  their children often SHARED DRINKS!!!!! 

 Yes, I  felt quite sure that I was correct in my assumption that with many children, love had to be divided and therefore, less was dumped on each child.

In my narrow, 20-something year old way of thinking, love for my children was something that others could SEE. In their clothing, in their lunches, in their toy boxes.

I had SO MUCH TO LEARN . . .

And God, in His sovereignty that I often find tinged with a sense of humor, would teach me over the next decade, just how wrong I was to judge these families by my ridiculous standards.

It began to happen slowly, almost imperceptibly at first.  I became close to some Godly Mothers of Many.

I stopped laying out my kids' clothes the night before, even when we were just staying home.    And we adopted a third child.

We began sneaking into Goodwill to shop, under cloak of darkness.   And along came child number four.

I let them go to church once in awhile WITHOUT gelling their hair.   And a fifth child found his way into our home.

I ceased carrying "extra clothing" for children long potty trained and did not stop to make them switch their shoes to the right feet before walking into the store. If they were comfortable, who was I...?    And God blessed us with child number SIX.

I forgot to put snacks in my purse (do "Halls" count as a snack?), rarely made sure they were "entertained" when we
traveled (look out the WINDOW!) and sometimes shorts and sweaters DO go together.   So God blessed us, yet again, with a seventh child.

So, to my babies, big and small, then and now,
I can type with the utmost assurance that I was wildly crazy about you when you were little.
I would have gladly given my life and/or vital organs to you without hesitation if the need arose.
You were my sun and moon and stars.
You were the "idols" I always had to confess and pray about when sermons about putting ANYTHING before God were preached.
You and You and You  . . . TIMES SEVEN.

I felt that way all those years ago.         AND I STILL DO!

Monumental

Have you ever done something that seemed so small and simple at the outset but,  as it was happening, your heart told you it was
actually something monumental?

That just happened to me with one of our BP boys . . . we had a birthday party for him.

He sat, wide-eyed while we all sang "Happy Birthday".  He did not realize he was supposed to blow out the candles but when we told him to, he blew with such strength I thought he gave the child across from him a free eyebrow waxing!

  I have never seen this little boy smile so much.

And he got to go first on the fishing game!   He got to hand out treat bags to the other kids at the end of the day.  He was the "star" of the show.

My heart knew that this was something unbelievably special for him.  Not to be taken for granted.

Had he had other birthday parties? I don't really know.
Was this the first cake that was just for his honor? No idea.

But this little boy lives a life that carries with it the burdens of never having enough, of needing to keep his eyes open for good items
to recycle or opportunities to eat a little extra.

His life is different from that of the children of you, who read this blog.

He doesn't lose things.  If I give him six crayons and two worksheets for practice, he brings them all back A WEEK LATER and proudly presents them to me for a star stamp on his papers and on his hand. 

The things he treasures make HIM a treasure to us.   
How blessed we are to get the chance to sow into this child's life!  

Like standing on holy ground . . . and singing "Happy Birthday". . .

A Change of Heart

I hope you'll indulge me a bit here.     This is one of those "fighting to get out of me" posts but it has little to do with The Bartimaeus Project or our specific work here in The Philippines.

It has to do with my own personal convictions being turned on their heads.

Those who know me "in real life", or even as long-time blog readers know that I am direct. I am
resolved. I am unapologetic about my convictions - whether they be controversial or widely accepted.

Living in The Philippines has caused me to rethink a few tenants I once held dear.

Among them are:

BEING QUIVERFULL:
There was a time in my personal journey as a wife and mother that I firmly believed EVERY married Believer should throw away the contraception and let the Lord choose his family size. I still do believe that SOME families are called to walk this path.  I can no longer justify it for all. First, it is not clearly mandated in scripture (although I would have called it "God's Best" in years gone by). Second, there is NO WAY IN HADES I could look into the eyes of parents here, in The Philippines, who struggle to feed their three children and are only in their 20s and tell them that God forbids them from controlling the number of children they have.  And if something is not universally applicable among all Christians, it's "gray matter" and gets tossed aside (cue sound of brick breaking a window).
That being said, I would still love to adopt (or even birth) more children if God deemed it. I welcome as many children as He gives us. But that is OUR path . . .  If I ever judged any of you for choosing to limit your family sizes (by non abortifacient means, of course), please forgive me. I am learning and growing. I pray that never stops.

VACCINATIONS:
This is one of the most scalding of hot-button issues among families, especially Christian families. SUPER "especially" HOMESCHOOLING Christian families.  I have been on internet forums where women proverbially "rip each other new ones" over whether or not vaccinating children against common childhood diseases is effective, necessary or even abusive.
If you live in a country where you can choose NOT to vaccinate and your child can still live a healthy, long life, stop RIGHT NOW and thank HIM for that freedom.  In this country, vaccines DO save lives!  Now, before I get 357 comments asking for proof and documentation, let me just share something anecdotal here.  I can not PROVE that vaccines have saved specific children but I can prove that non-vaccinated children here die often of diphtheria, rubella, complications from measles and  that POLIO still lives on here in remote areas.  Again, I would NEVER EVER EVER (even with Dr. Fred Mercola holding my hand) stand face to face with a poor family and encourage them not to vaccinate their children.  Likewise, I would never encourage you to send your child to a country like this  for a mission trip unvaccinated.  The responsibility is too great and the stakes too high to play around with this issue.  All of my children are now caught up on their vaccines and if, later in life, there are autoimmune consequences, I'll be sad.  But if they have made it through years of living here without rubella maiming their unborn child or diphtheria shortening their lives, it's a trade worth making. 

ECUMENICALISM
I don't want to scare anyone with this change in me but, here, I see people of different faith streams working together VERY WELL for the common cause of the poor.  As a person of reformed theology (Calvinist-ish), serving alongside those who are very, very Pentecostal, staunch Catholic or even doctrinally liberal has not been a problem.  Again, there was a time in my pre-missionary life when I would have assumed it untenable to work on a project with those who hold such varied beliefs because we would, inevitably, come to an impasse over some issue and have to part ways. Serving here has not changed my own personal convictions about the  reliability of scripture (as 100% inerrant) nor about God's sovereignty in ALL things (including salvation) but it HAS helped me to understand that it is possible, and even desirable, to work in harmony with other Believers who hold different doctrinal beliefs.   I don't have to agree with these people in all areas to find enough common ground to "get the job done".  As long as we all agree that salvation comes only through Christ and HE is the ONLY way to the Father, I think we can cross other bridges as we come to them. And we may never come to "other bridges".  When the needs here are screaming out at us and families are shattering before our eyes, doctrinal differences hardly seem discussion-worthy.

CHILDREN BELONG IN THEIR FIRST FAMILIES
Adoption is amazing, wonderful, beautiful and one of the best decisions or family ever made.
That being said, I believe children, EVEN POOR CHILDREN, belong in their original families whenever possible. Just because I can give a child more "stuff" does not mean he should join my family.  Adoption is a radical measure for a child in crisis, not a "first,best plan" for a child who's parents don't have a nice house or money for the dentist.  I think about my own adoption as a daughter of the King.  It would have been BEST, of course, if the Fall of Man never took place and I was born into a relationship with HIM and stayed there. It was because of a huge crisis, the disaster of sin, that He enacted spiritual adoption.  Now I don't have to live as an "orphan" with the grim prognosis of one who has no lineage.   THIS is why, when I share photos of ministry we have done with children who still  have families, and comments like "I wish I could take them all home with me" are typed, I cringe.  They don't WANT to go home with you. They want to stay with their  first family, right here in their shack with no running water and no electricity.  Sometimes they NEED to come home with you because they are unsafe or alone. Sometimes the first family has had to sign them over for permanent adoption or has dropped them at a shelter and never returned.  Adoptive parents are the "soft place to land". We get to be used by God to fill a gaping hole left by sin in this broken world. But for the grace of God, we could BE that "first family", unable to keep and raise our own offspring.  Trying to keep first families together should be the goal of any ministry working with the poor. When that just can't happen, adoption BECOMES the best option!


Those are the major changes that have taken place in my worldview since moving over here. Maybe I'm just typing this post for catharsis and it doesn't mean a hill of beans to you readers.  Maybe you haven't even read this far down.  MAYBE I'm going to get some "hate mail" now.  I don't get much of that, thankfully. Maybe it's my turn  to get "ripped a new one" by some of you??  That's okay, too.
But I'm a person who will say I'm wrong when I believe I am.

In some places, I have been wrong.

In others, I'm still wrong.   Just trying to prayerfully examine my convictions, line up with scripture the best I can with this fallible, finite mind. . praying I do no harm in my areas of ignorance. . . clinging to the knowledge that when I am weak, HE is strong!

Progress and Planning

 It seems months since our family turned the key and opened the door to our beautiful home in The Philippines! In reality, we have not even been here two full weeks.
It seems weeks since I've had a long phone conversation with my "bestie" or cleaned my house top to bottom in anticipation of a visit from my parents.
I can't remember the last time I drove toward Wal Mart talking to my sister on my cell phone. But I know it is not as distant-past as it feels.
A BIG change like the one we are undergoing really tampers with your sense of time.

There has been, in just under two weeks, so much progress in this "missionary life" that I don't know where to begin.
We have already had the distinct honor of hosting three hilarious, instantly-loveable, fellow Believers in our home.
First is my "soul sister", Sharon, who runs Children's Garden (the shelter that cared for Ariel for a long time), next is
Jake, an American (from OMAHA - where I was born, of all places and currently calls NORTH CAROLINA home - yeah, weird? I thought so, too) who has committed a year to living and serving at Children's Garden.  Finally, Allie, who is the daughter of Children's Garden's US counterpart's president, AmerICANHELPer.  She's just a few days younger than my oldest son and is a sunshiney, fun-loving cheerful spirit who is open to wherever God will lead her.

God placed these new friends in our lives at the perfect time.  We were just getting settled and after weeks of hard work, needed some fun!

Everyone but Anthony, the eternal photographer, at a restaurant together

The Beach in Batangas

The rock island some of my kids swam out to

What A Great Daddy!!!!

Sharon and Me: See the resemblance????

And through out this time of transition, I can literally FEEL God holding our family in the palm of His hand.  We have driven in crazy traffic and not been harmed. We have, no doubt, been targeted for a robber (per our Gate Guard's announcement) and not been robbed.
We have eaten various foods from street vendors, restaurants, etc and not been ill. We are being "held".
I attribute that solely to the prayer warriors in our lives who I KNOW have been walking with us in spirit.

We visited a nearby church called "Christ Commission Fellowship" and, much to our surprise,  found another CHURCH PLANT before us.  From Village Church to Explore Church, it seems we are destined to attend church plants.  Yes, it's always a lot of hard work but the payoff is immeasurable! Being on the "ground floor" of the building of a part of the Body is a privilege.

In order to officially begin Bartimaeus work full force, we have to register some paperwork with various government offices and wait for a few approvals.  We are free to visit the children (and we will next week) but we are not officially sanctioned by the Philippine government until we fulfill a few more requirements.  The hard part about this is these are NOT things that can be done online. We must go, in person, to various offices in the most congested parts of Manila and drop off paperwork.  Everything must be previously notarized and, of course, there is a small charge for every document submitted.

Everything takes longer here.

We went to open our bank account and were informed that we had to submit 1 inch by 1inch color photos of ourselves to make our account official.  No, they can not be emailed, either. We must go to the drug store, pay for photos, pick them up later (not instant pictures) and drop  them off at the bank.  All this in pretty dicey traffic.

That is the way here. This is NOT the USA and an "I want it NOW" attitude will only end up in futility so we are learning to step back and allow for things

That lack of "hurry up" has a nice side, too.  Friends stop and linger. Meals are unrushed and full of fellowship. Church service was relaxed and loose with not one "alarm" beeping that it was noon and time to race the Methodists to Golden Corral . . .ha ha. . . .

It's just so different here. Not worse. Not better.  Just different.  . . And I love it.

My heart breaks with every drive down the highway as I see the squatter villages with unclothed children playing so near the street it makes me hold my breath.  And I'm taken aback by the physical beauty of both the people and the landscape.  The resourcefulness of the poor is something to behold and the way NOTHING is wasted here never fails to amaze me.  People make something out of all the things we discard in the US.  Useful things that we buy.   They make and make well.

The food here is UMATCHED! The fried chicken is heavenly. My favorite dish (which is so so bad for me) is called "Crispy Pata" and it's basically pork fat fried as crunchy as a potato chip and seasoned.  There's a soup called "bulalo" which is a piece of beef in a broth that tastes so good it could make a grown man cry!    I choose Filipino food over Mexican, Italian (sorry, mom) or any other type of food any day.

I had every intention of writing a deep, beautiful post about our place in this country but I feel like I've only succeeded in rambling about some of things and people we are encountering.

Let me wrap up with a few pictures and by saying, I am so blessed and happy to be here. I consider it an honor to serve in such a place. I want to thank you all who are praying and giving.  It is our heart's desire not to disappoint but to make YOUR sacrifice count for the Kingdom.
For HIS Fame,
Nikki

Skyping with my parents.  Always a blessing!

Elliana's foot with sea urchin barbs in it (see the dark parts?). She said it was truly excruciating. 

A man saw what happened on the beach and brought us a packed of vinegar he happened to have. Anyone believe in angels?

The Taal Volcano . . . just a few miles from our house. Can you believe this beauty???

A Post in Pictures

At the LAX airport one week ago awaiting the 13 hour flight on Philippine Airlines that would take us to our new home.

The line for check in (16 bags and 12 carry ons) was made much longer when our family stepped in!

Getting all settled in with no idea we are about to be bounced around the sky in some pretty heinous ways (ha ha)

settled in watching movies

a little in-flight PDA

This is the CLEAN side of the plane after the turbulence hit. I have NEVER been on a flight this turbulent and I hope to never again! 

A man was hurt in the restroom. It was a good  8 hours of rockin and rollin!

FINALLY home . . . sitting on our back porch at the new house. Happy to be on solid ground!

Riding the jeepney with the kids to get a few groceries.

The road in front of our house that goes toward the gate.

The mall! Air Conditioning and coffee!!!!

Our new van (a 12 seater, stick shift, diesel, STAREX)

YEAH .  . even before a sign of the fish, we get the NINERS . . . sigh