To My "Trauma Mamas"

There's a lot going on right now.  I don't think anyone would argue with the statement that the world is in a bit of a mess. Whether you believe coronavirus/ COVID-19 is a big media blow-up, a legit threat to humanity or something in between, you can't deny it's impact on everything. From the availability of tissue paper to the closing of schools, everyone feels it.

Nobody feels changes in the air quite as deeply as our hyper vigilant "children from hard places".

If you're an adoptive parent, a person who serves wounded children directly or the  parent of a child who has been through a life-altering event, you understand the effect this recent pandemic is having all too well. 

Before I get too deep in here, let me say two things. First, every child responds to trauma differently.  This post is not intended to be a "one-size-fits-all".  Second, the title of this post is not meant to diminish the role of fathers in healing trauma. You guys are vital.  But the vast majority of families I know who cope with kids from hard places would agree that "mommy issues" from early abandonment tend to put the bullseye on mothers in a more  obvious way. 

Here are some behavioral changes you may be seeing in your children/teens from hard places during the course of the pandemic and some strategies to try:

Withdrawing- some kids simply don't have the words to put to their feelings when life feels like it's spinning out of control. They are afraid of losing you. They are afraid of being sick. They miss the familiar routine and faces that brought them a sense of being anchored. And it overwhelms them to the point of silence.  It is tempting to hound that child into opening up.  We want to help. We know talking things out can bring peace.  Please don't.  Make an offer to listen.  Ask your withdrawn child if he/she is feeling afraid. Let him know you are always willing to talk. Leave an encouraging note or Bible verse  if he is a reader.  Fill your home with worship music and joyful conversation (in as much as it's genuine).  Some children willingly talk out their feelings while others find the pressure of being expected to know themselves and verbalize what's inside too daunting. 

Acting Out - the less-welcome cousin of withdrawing is acting out. Most of us know exactly what this looks and feels like and the instincts we have in addressing it are often exactly the opposite of what will be constructive and helpful.  If your child is crying more easily, being more difficult to redirect or just flat our rebelling during this virus event, you have a few choices in how to handle it. And you're tired. You're quarantined. You also need a break and feel like you can't cope with one more behavioral issue. So your response to the acting out may not be something you'd be proud of. Pause and REJECT the desire to put your child in isolation. Sending a traumatized child to his room alone, walking out of the room on him, having him "think it over" in a place where he is alone (unless you are afraid you might physically harm him), shunning him or having others shun him or locking a door and leaving him inside an area  are NEVER the best responses. Children from trauma backgrounds already feel unlovable and unwanted at their cores. Isolating them at their worst just reinforces that belief.  "I am bad".    "I don't have anyone".   "I can not be fixed".  Those are the mantras of children of trauma.   YOU have the power to help them relearn their internal narrative. But it will take loads of patience and coming OUTSIDE of yourself. Instead of pushing away a child who is acting out, draw him in closer.  It will feel counter intuitive but, I promise, it will work. It may take months or years, but it will yield the harvest you are hoping for. 

For example, if your seven year old can't figure out how to do a jigsaw puzzle, becomes frustrated and pushes the whole puzzle off the table crying, go to him.  Hold him if he will let you. Reassure him that he is smart, he is loved and you want to help him handle his anger better.  After he is calm, help him pick up the pieces. Calmly tell him he has to use more self control. Talk about ways he can handle the anger next time it comes. If you want to enact a logical consequence like not allowing him to use the puzzles again for a week, do it. But all of that discussion ONLY after he is calm and ready to interact. Dragging him off to his room in the heat of his anger and tears would have only resulted in prolonged crying. And some of our trauma babies can cry for HOURS . . . can I get an "amen"? 

If you do give out consequences, make sure they fit the offense and have an end in sight. When a child sees no end to the punishments, he quickly gives up hope. 

Fatalistic Thinking - Your traumatized child may quickly jump to "worse-case-scenario" thinking in the light of this crisis.  Trying to shield him from the TV news or from hearing about covid-19 deaths will backfire. He will likely imagine the death toll to be much higher than it actually is and will probably hear the news when you think he isn't listening anyway.  Be realistic at his level of understanding. If it might comfort him, show him a pie chart online of all the diagnosed cases and what a small sliver of the pie result in death.  He should not be lied to or given false promises that "mommy won't let that big, bad virus get you". A little bit of concern is merited so he will observe good hygiene and submit more willingly to staying home.  If your child is given to fatalistic thinking, he is only remembering that sometimes the worst things that could happen , have happened. Remind him of times in the past that he thought "the sky was falling" and it didn't. Encourage him that he is not alone and that if you get sick or his grandmother gets sick , there are many trusted adults who will always take care of him. You may think the fear he is having is all about you, Mama. But it's about him. "Who will take care of me?".  Maybe the feeling of having no one to really care for him was more than just a "feeling" in the past.  Assure him that he is loved and will have his needs met for the rest of his life. 

Over Exhuberance - a child from a tough background who takes everything in stride may not be "super tough" or "super resilient" as we would like to believe. There are times that the overly-cheerful, water-off-a-duck's-back kid is just a hair's breath away from panic.  And he simply believes projecting joy and cheer will camouflage his true self.  You know your child. If you have seen a drastic upturn in his joy level that coincides with the virus lockdown, keep your eyes open. Keep your radar tuned in to teachable moments or "cracks in the armor" when he might give you a glimpse into his heart.  When the time is right, just say it. "You're scared, aren't you?".  "It's normal to feel worried when a lot of people are getting a strange sickness. If you're upset about it, you can tell me."

Maybe he will, maybe he won't.  But you've left that door open that reminds him that he can always be real with you, whether the real him is happy or sad.  

I'm sure there are a range of other changes you may be seeing in your kids as we navigate the waters of this virus together.  I chose the four I see most frequently in my own boys, who do life with me inside Mercy House all day, every day.  If we, as Mamas and Daddies have our own hard histories and we haven't put them in perspective and prayed through them, we might be seeing these reactions in ourselves as well. That complicates the family dynamic a little but if that's you, face reality and do the heart work in yourself as well.  Spend time in God's word daily. Talk to Him about your own fears and reactions to them. You can rest assured He won't isolate you, walk away, remind you of your own shortcoming on a regular basis. He will reassure you that you are loved, you belong to Him. Your mistakes can be forgiven and that He is sanctifying you through every high and low you walk through. 

For our own children, let's be like Him.  Nobody knows parenting better than the Perfect Parent. 

Nobody needs patient forgiveness and understand like His children. 

Home

Taken the first time we ever saw him

The first time I ever saw Adonis he was high. We were having a medical outreach and feeding in his city, sponsored by a friend from North Carolina. There was spaghetti, chicken, hygiene kits  and candy given to more than 100 street children.  There were testimonies shared, prayers prayed and lots of hugs and medicine handed out to some pretty neglected kids. And then it was time to clean up and go home.  But at the very end of the program, one of our Mercy House boys came to me and  said "Can my cousin come and live with us?".  I had almost gotten away. Almost.

But he introduced me to the child in the photo above. 

I could tell he was on some sort of drug by his behavior - lots of laughing and smiling. He could not focus on what I was saying. He stepped outside my direct line of sight and peed on a wooden post about two feet from me.   And I was  a little scared of him.  He was 15 years old -  older than any other children we had at the time - and he was clearly saturated by street life in a "leveled up" way from that of our other clients.  So I asked him to add me on facebook (as most street children here have a facebook account that they check often from the internet cafes when they can find the money), assuming he would lose the scrap of paper I had written my name on for him,  and I left him there in the city, a little relieved that I didn't have that "heart tug" that so often knocks me over when I  meet a child we are supposed to invite into our Mercy House family. 

But by the time I got back to the  center, a friend request from Adonis was in my computer.  And a long message written by a different street child informing me that Adonis could not read or write but he would really like to come and live with us, go to school and "fix his life".  The friend shared with me that Adonis has bad asthma and was sick a lot and that he would be "a good boy" for me.  I laughed.  Because I had heard that before and the kids promising they were "good boys" were almost always the worst behavior problems.  I was getting jaded. Or experienced. Or both. 

So, I lay down that night in my bed to pray for the kids we had served that day and to ask the Lord what to do now for specific children. And the words  "go get Adonis" kept coming to mind. I think I said "NO WAY" out loud. And I tried to reason it was not the prompting of the Lord but  my own "savior complex" putting that thought in my head.  I tried to focus on the foolishness of accepting a child that old with that many issues into our center. But that nagging. It would not go away.  And  I knew. 

The following day, I asked our social worker to call the city social worker from Adonis' town and ask about him. She BEGGED us to come and pick him up. She shared the problems he caused in the street,  the stealing and vandalism. The bullying of younger children, the constant use of drugs in public - and so much more.   So, with more fear than faith, we  went to his city to ask him if he was serious about changing his life.

Admission Day

He came into our center and slept for about three days, ate an inordinate amount of food and began to be more "himself" as the substances he relied on to keep him feeling strong and happy wore off. 

And for about 5 months, he did well with us.

Until he didn't. 

A few months after leaving Mercy House

He began to miss the drugs, the computer shop, the girls, the begging and the money. So he began to act out inside the center - disrespecting staff, bullying other children, anything to draw attention to himself  and disrupt whatever activities were going on.  So we counseled him regularly about his actions. We prayed with him and for him. But, eventually, he insisted that we get him back to his city of origin or he would just run away.  So with the cooperation of the local government and Adonis' birth mother, we reunited him with a very fragile family that we knew would not  be able to handle him.

Sadly, we were right. He was in the street again. 

Within a week, Adonis was messaging us asking if he could come back into our home.  But upon his leaving, our Mercy House boys began to share with us some pretty extreme things Adonis was doing while living with us- things they were afraid to disclose until he was gone.  So we went and met him face to face to let him know we could not take him back and why, but we would help him find a place if he was open to another home. 

We found him in the street easily as everyone in that city knows him. He was having an asthma attack and had no medicine so, we immediately  bought two inhalers, one for him to keep in his pocket and  one for the city social worker to keep in her desk and give to him when the first ran out. She agreed to do that for us.  

We fed him lunch and then he fell asleep on a city park bench, head on my lap, and all I could do was put my hand on his and pray silently - for his protection, for a center that could handle all the behaviors and keep their other kids safe, for the God who made Adonis for a bigger purpose to begin to reveal to that young man that he was created for so much more than the life he was currently living.  And then, with heavy hearts, we left him there to search for a place that could handle this difficult boy with the beautiful heart.  We had seen so much in him that was worth saving. So many sweet moments and protective instincts toward our staff.  

Enter: Kid's Home International.  Pastor Raffy Sison and his staff were introduced to us by an Action International missionary, my friend Erin.  Pastor Raffy runs a tight ship. He serves older boys 15-18 and some have committed serious offenses. He opened his home to Adonis and we were beyond grateful! Adonis thrived there. He learned to read. He learned to handle the word of God and serve in outreaches. He learned to hand wash his own clothing and take responsibility for himself and, best of all to us, he was only about 15 miles from Mercy House so we were allowed to visit him there. 

For 11 months, Adonis did well in the program at Kid's Home  but eventually approached Pastor Raffy and asked if he could be excused from the program. He  had asked that in the past but always changed his  mind after some counseling.  This time, it was different. Pastor Raffy texted Mercy House and shared with us that Adonis wants to return to us and he was 100% certain this time that he wanted to leave Kid's Home.  

I would be lying to say I wasn't at least a little thrilled at the prospect of getting him back.  

We missed him. Visiting him at KH and seeing his growth and maturity were highlights of our days. Knowing he was in the perfect place for him - the safest and most Christ-focused place he could have asked for - was the answer to so many prayers for that young man. But hearing he wanted to come back to us  and was now more READY was also an answer. 

So we went and got him. And brought him home.  He is now 17 years old and no longer the skinny, hyper active, drug dependent kid we met two years ago on the streets of his city.  He's a young man who is showing himself to be a good big brother to the kids here at Mercy House. He leads devotions. He helps the staff with any heavy lifting or labor-intensive jobs without being asked. And, my goodness, that sense of humor and smile just light up this place.

How did we make it for so long without him?   

And I share this for a few reasons. First, just to flat out spread the joy we have at being given a second chance with this boy. Second, to thank Kid's Home and Pastor Raffy and his staff a MILLION TIMES OVER for taking a chance on Adonis and for also being willing to give him back after  they all did so much of the hard work it took to get him to be the young man we see before us: changed by the power of God and looking more like His Son than we imagined he could.  

And third, I share this because all of  you who pray for and support Mercy House have a hand in the redemption of this boy .  And, people, if this was the ONLY child we served in our whole ministry. It would still be worth  the leaving and the selling and the coming across the ocean.  The resources we have invested to visit him, buy medicine and now to care for him every day come from those of you with a heart for street kids and the gospel.  And we can not express well enough how valuable you are.  

We eagerly await the rest of this story. We are not naive enough to think it will be smoothing sailing for the next couple of years and then Adonis lands that corporate job and rides off into the sunset to live "happily ever after".  Kids with rough beginnings tend to have a lot of extra work to do just to rise to the level of average kids in intact families.  But we put all of our trust in our Great Great God, to show us how to meet this young man's needs day by day. Step by step. Walkng by faith and expecting the Lord to keep every promise He has ever made. Because He will. 

So, for now, we are just raising a son who is right where he is supposed to be at this time in his life. 

And we are grateful to everyone who has poured into him and cheered him on along the way.

Playing Ball at Mercy House 

Hanging out with two of his Mercy House brothers

Add Adonis to your daily prayers, please!  He has a long way to go academically and spiritually before he will be ready to face the adulthood that lies just around the corner.  And while you pray, thank the Lord for  calling so many to serve just the one. 

More than we ask or imagine!  That is our God!

Broken World

The world is broken. When sin entered this place in the Garden of Eden and everything straight was made crooked, there was nothing mankind to do to help itself. 

None of us is immune to the pain that living on a broken planet delivers. 

We have all been injured.

Remember hurtful words thrown your way? Betrayal by a spouse or family member ?

Someone you trusted sharing your secret pain for his own gain?

Injustice and prejudgement directed at you in times you had no power to defend yourself?

But we have also caused injury.

We have gossiped. We have chosen to believe gossip. We have lied.

We have stolen. We have been prideful and smug when humility was called for.

We have hidden behind the name of Jesus in an effort to avoid reaching out to people who live their sin out loud and proud. We have kept a record of our own good deeds and trotted them out when it suited us. We have been silent when we knew we should speak. 

In short, we have inflicted harm on other human beings. Sometimes on purpose and sometimes by accident .

The child in the picture above is almost sixteen years old! He is about 4 feet 6 inches tall and weighs 64 pounds. He is a severe asthmatic and has been in the street for many many years. Abuse at home drove him into the street as a young child and there he remained, fashioning a sort of family for himself out of other street children.   We met him at an outreach in his city at Christmas time and we had no space for a new child at the time. To be honest, I was also a little afraid to admit him, although he asked very respectfully.  We have met MANY respectful, adorable, endearing children only to discover AFTER admission that they are way too much for us in every way imaginable. 

But this child, who can neither read nor write, found me online and had a friend write me a plea to help him. 

And then the city social worker formally referred him to us. Whether he asked her to or she just happened to choose him from the scores of street children in their city who need help, we have not quite deciphered.  All we know is this child kept coming up in our work and we could not ignore him. We told him the date we would be in his town and he messaged again the day before asking if we were still coming. My heart could barely cope with this kind of hope being placed in us. 

He was asking for rescue from a life that was too hard for too long. Sin broke his world and he was asking us to help do some mending. 

And, for us, saying "no" would have been sin. 

"And to him who knows the good he ought to do and refuses to do it, for him, it is sin"

James 4:17

And just like with all of our children, as they start to trust us a little and they start to open up, we learn details that are crushing. 

Our children have been the recipients of some pretty shabby fallout from the sin of others.

And sometimes they have been the ones to injure others.

The challenge for us as a ministry is to seek the Lord daily for wisdom in helping these children "unlearn" the imprinted habits in their minds and focus on living lives that please God rather than self.

Ironically, it's the same challenge we face on a personal level every day. Even as long-time followers of Christ who are educated in His word and know how He calls us to live. 

We, as missionaries, are not immune to the effects of this broken world. Much to the contrary, we often feel like weary soldiers trudging uphill with a very heavy pack at the end of a day of fighting. 

We are attacked from inside and outside.  And sometimes we lash back. Sometimes we fail at loving like Jesus.  But when we succeed, we give Him the credit.   He works in us as He sees fit.

And in the first sentence of this post, I typed the phrase "there was nothing mankind could do to help itself."  That sounds awfully hopeless.  But here is where what appears to be bad news is actually good news. The best. 

No, we can not free ourselves from the bondage of sin. We can not free other people. We can not stop the cycle of sin in the lives of the children we serve. 

BUT JESUS CAN. AND HE DID. AND HE WILL. 

The only hope for any of us, on any side of the social justice equation in this sin-sick world is Jesus Christ. Only He can forgive. Only He can restore. Only He can make us whole and fill those empty places in us that we seek to fill with lesser things. 

In the light of these truths. We are all on an equal playing field. Pope and missionary and street child and perpetrator.  We all need Jesus. 

Do you know His forgiveness? Have you been restored? Are you seeking to fill your life with lesser things and wondering why they never satisfy?  Only He can truly satisfy your soul.

Sometimes I make the mistake of believing this blog is only read by Believers, firm in their faith. But it dawned on me that I have not shared the gut, core, baseline reason for the work we do here. 

It is all about Jesus. His rescue of us from our own sin. His ongoing sanctification of us. His patient forgiveness of our blatant rebellion. His sacrifice that fills us with the hope that we can turn and offer to others. 

So, precious reader, if you have any questions about your own place with Him. About your position as forgiven, unforgiven, unrepentant or made new, please PLEASE reach out to someone you know as a trustworthy follower of Christ. Or email us (nikki@mercyhouseph.org) and ask those questions that have plaguing you about your own salvation.   

He loves you.  

"And THIS is love, not that we love God but that He loved us and sent His son as a payment for our sins".   1 John 4:10 

Never Enough

Admission Day

 April 19, 2016. The local government in our new town contacted Mercy House seeking help for placement of a 12 year old child who had been on and off the streets for FOUR years. Do the math . . ... FOUR YEARS. That means he began to live the life of a beggar, scavenger, self-protective, "look out for number one" child at the age of eight. Eight . . .

He was so guarded when he came to the center for the first day. He had tears in his eyes but would not let them fall.
The other children tried to welcome him and offer him clothing from their own closets since we live far from the market now, didn't know he was staying and needed a little time before shopping.
He refused the clothing. He tried to fist fight with the biggest resident we have.

On the first day.

He needed to establish himself as "top dog" so he would not be hurt or taken advantage of.
He wouldn't look in our eyes when spoken to.  He would not come when called.  He wanted nothing to do with us.  He asked our caregiver how he might get back to the place where he was in the street. He asked if there was a jeep or a bus from Mercy House to the street. 

We informed him that there is no bus or jeep but, as we tell all the children, we are not a jail. If he would please just stay for one week and if he is still unhappy at the end of a week, we will take him wherever he wants to go within reason.  He agreed.

By the end of the third day, he was coming when called. He gave a few reluctant hugs and started to obey us when we asked him to tend to his personal hygiene.  His resistance was wearing out.

By day five, we asked him if he would like to have a visit to his family home and be a part of some counseling and planning for his new, better, brighter future. 
He agreed to go.

His "home" when he was not in the street

This is the home he led us to. Inside was a mother ready to give birth any day, a grandmother and many young siblings.  We talked and prayed with them and left feeling pretty hopeless. The needs were OVERWHELMING and the notion that this child could ever return here was dismissed. He was not wanted or tolerated. He had caused too much trouble and the family was exhausted.

We Understood.

We expected this child would live with us while we started the long road to either family reunification or adoption. We planned for his school enrollment, had his medical check up completed, fashioned a nice bed, purchased clothing and shoes and prepared for a minimum 2-year stay with us.

And that was fine. It's what we do.

Although this child proved to be one of our more challenging in regard to behavior, and seemed to have little desire to change, we continued to include him in every aspect of life at Mercy House- chores, tutoring, church, devotions - and he made all of those things a LOT harder than they had been prior to his arrival.

And then "Auntie Andrea" arrived from the US.  He liked her immediately. He wanted to sit by her and hold her hand. He showed more affections to her than he had to any of us up to that point. 
Thankfully, she allowed it. And even MORE thankfully, she bought him his very own Tagalog Bible.

We discovered he is an excellent reader!

Auntie Andrea went back to the US and he missed her. But he continued to read the Bible she gave him. He asked us to help him find John 3:16 and Romans 8:28 and Matthew 25:40. This child who seemed to NEVER be listening and rarely to be engaged in his environment was like a sponge, soaking it all in and keeping it in his own quiet way.

And we saw changes in him that we now recognize as a child starting to understand he is loved by God and created for a purpose.

Just a month into his stay with us, the "big boys" of Mercy House were invited to go to a Christian camp a few hours from our center.  He attended.  He came back very excited about the things he had learned. He told us he wanted to follow Jesus and have a life that is committed to him.

We were thrilled. 

Generally, "Daddy Anthony" will counsel with children who are expressing their desire to follow Jesus. We want to be so careful. No "easy believeism"!  We want to make sure they understand what they are expressing and that they are discipled. We want them to know what blessings are bestowed on them at the time of salvation and what the cost of obedience amounts to. 

Before we could have that conversation with this child, we were informed that a relative came forward who knew little of the severity of this child's situation and when she found out, wanted  to assume responsibility for him!

We were happy.
And sad.

This is what we DO. It's our greatest joy when  a child can be united with biological family and raised in his own country and culture. Yes, we love adoption. But it's not "first choice".  

Our hearts were both joyful and heavy as we met together with the biological relatives, local government representatives and realized this family was serious, committed and understood the needs of this child.  I never knew you could have joy and sadness at the same time until beginning this work.

You can.

Our Last Day

So, yesterday, we said "goodbye" to this precious treasure of a boy and entrusted him to his biological relatives. But more than that, we entrusted him to his Creator who still has that plan and  purpose for this life.

But, for me, it just wasn't enough.  Not enough time with this child. Not enough discipleship. Not enough training in manners and study habits and how to be respectful to others.

He wasn't "done" yet. 

I wasn't done yet.

But God, in His infinite wisdom, placed this child in our care for just one month and eight days.

For me, never enough.
For our Heavenly Father, who could do all of this without our help, no doubt, it was
enough.
Please pray for this child and a successful upbringing in the care of his relatives.
Please pray they are humble enough to call us if they need us.
We begged them to.
Part of me hopes they do. The selfish part who really loved getting to watch this boy change and grow. 
Now that I know this boy, I can not imagine him wasting his potential in the street when he is brimming with possibilities.

As always, thank you for supporting our work at Mercy House so we can be here when called upon in situations like this.
Without YOU, praying and giving and keeping us encouraged by reaching out, we're done.
 THANK YOU.


To financially support our work at Mercy House, please click the link below:
Mercy House 

Or log on to: www.mercyhouseph.org under "donate"

Compassion Fatigue and the Furlough

Compassion Fatigue: a gradual numbing to the needs and hurt of others facilitated by being continually inundated with images and stories of extreme poverty and hardship while not experiencing those events firsthand.

For the first time in almost a year and a half, since packing up our willing-ish family and letting go of our place in the United States, I was blessed to return there just a few weeks ago.

I left with a considerable level of  fear. 

There you have it. 

Not the confidence of a child of the King but plain old worry and fear. 

Common and Sinful.

I don't think it's any secret to anyone who knows me in "real life" that I'm afraid of flying. The irony of my Heavenly Father is that he would send me almost as far as possible in the opposite direction of people I treasure and then to require that I get on an unfathomably heavy piece of machinery for about 20 hours of prayerful uncertainty.  I was uncertain. Not Him.  The flights were fine and actually enjoyable in spots.  The variety of movies blew my mind and I watched SIX of them between Japan and Atlanta.  I ate my meal in peace with not one miniature person asking me for a bite or needing a napkin. Just me, my movies and a tray of beef and noodles. Okay. And saki. I tried saki for the first time because I could.  Meh.

Of course, I arrived safely and every minute hurtling 38,000 feet above the Earth was worth it to spend time with the people that live deep in my heart and kept a part of it in America with them when I left.

Taco Bell with my Bio babies

Hanging with my handsome Daddy

Cook Out and shopping with Mom

As if these weren't enough good gifts, my sister surprised me at the airport, my brother and his family came to see me as well as some unexpected friends who drove hours to hear me talk about the work of Mercy House and give out some hugs.   I am blessed.  And I am fearful.

The fear I harbored in coming to the US again was so little about the flight or any changes in the country I left. I was not afraid of ISIS or a mall shooting or even of changed relationships between me and the people I love.  Not much.

I was afraid I would get "Compassion Fatigue" and not want to come back to The Philippines.   I was gripped with fear that seeing my loved ones,  living in a home with no geckos or bugs, having the freedom to go anywhere and never be stared at even once would over ride my desire to come back to the ministry.  I was unfettered for the first time in more than a year. I stayed up late. I slept in. I had full and uninterrupted conversations with other English-fluent adults who understood even the jokes and sarcasm specific to my first culture. I basked in "me time".  It went from feeling odd to feeling freakin' awesome in a matter of a day!

This furlough was an experiment of sorts.

Upon arrival, I just could not get enough of American life.  Everything smells good in the states.  You can drive for miles without a single urge to cover your nose (unless you're in the car with teenage boys - ha ha).  I immediately noticed how CLEAN it was. I never gave any thought to how clean my home country is before. It just was.  I noticed there were no children roaming on busy streets - or any streets- who were not safely in strollers or held by adults.  And where were all the stray dogs with obvious signs of nursing pups nearby? I didn't see even one.   Drinks have free refills in the states and food portions are immense.  There is too much of the good things and none of the heart-wrenching scenery I take in daily in Asia. At least not where my people live.

These observations made me feel guilty.  I love The Philippines.  And it's not fair to compare her to an already-developed nation.  She can't stand against that kind of scrutiny.  I knew when I was doing it that it was wrong.  But I was playing a mental game of "will I still love you when this is over?" with my two countries.

I was honored to speak at several gatherings about our work with street children and orphans. Every time I spoke, my heart pricked. Every time I showed our ministry slideshow, I tried to hold back tears.
Most of the time I couldn't.  They just came. 

I saw their faces and thought of the feeling of their hugs.  One of them always puts his face on my neck in the morning.  I know that warm hug as well as any. It's like my morning coffee. Just a part of the day.  One of the nice parts.

And as good as life in America is.   And as much as I ache for my big kids, family and loved ones when we are apart, it was apparent that no trappings of good smells, big drinks or clean streets could rob me of that magnetic draw to The Philippines.  It may be going too far to say I was made for this country but I often think that way.   Does God make people for countries other than those of their birth?   Does he place people in one country for many years while preparing them for another? It feels like "yes".

After a wonderful visit with my North Carolina people, I headed to California for the wedding of my husband's youngest brother.  He's adding yet another "white chick" to the Filipino family. I knew he would.  I could tell from his teen years.  Welcome to the family! 

And my furlough wrapped up with some precious time spent with my husband's side of the family.
This time solidified what I knew to be true.  I did not have "compassion fatigue".  I was not tired of the ministry or the country I now call home.  Just hearing so much Tagalog spoken and eating the familiar foods again confirmed it.   I was starting to feel excited about going back - not fearful and certainly no sense of dread.

With the California family

 So it's confirmed. I don't have compassion fatigue at this point.  I pray I never get it.  I pray YOU don't get it either.   This visit to my first home washed me over with gratefulness.  The number of friends, new and old, who came to find out what is happening at Mercy House or just to catch up and have a meal together  was more than I even would have hoped for.  Thank you, my friends and family for caring about me, my family, the street kids of Cavite, Philippines and the fatherless.   Thank you for the way you give and pray and encourage.  And for those who opened their homes and just wanted to talk about "regular life" thank you for reminding me what it felt like to be a mom talking to another mom - not a missionary - for just a few minutes.  It's grounding to have those reminders.  It was sweet and of much more value than it may have seemed as we stood in your  kitchen and talked about our kids.   Thank you.  And again . . .

 I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.
Philippians 1:3 

Thank you for loving, bearing with and understanding.  I pray I can be even a fraction of the friend to you all that you have been to me.  You friends and family members will be the benchmark of what a furlough should encompass.  And you have made it very hard for the next furlough. It couldn't have been much better.   

The Privilege of Sacrifice

2 Corinthians 8
"8 And now, brothers and sisters, we want you to know about the grace that God has given the Macedonian churches. ² In the midst of a very severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity. ³ For I testify that they gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability. Entirely on their own, ⁴ they urgently pleaded with us for the privilege of sharing in this service to the Lord’s people. ⁵ And they exceeded our expectations: They gave themselves first of all to the Lord, and then by the will of God also to us."

I love this passage.  I hate how misused and taken-out-of-context it can be.  This is a narrative about the generosity of the people of Macedonia toward the ministry of Paul.  He was proud of them. He was commending them for giving despite their own trials.  It was simply a compliment.

It is not a command.

And yet, time and time again I have seen and heard missionaries, pastors and other full-time servants of the gospel lift up this passage and implore their hearers to "give beyond their abilities".   I cringe.

I love reading about the hearts of the Macedonians. We have "Macedonians" in our lives who support our ministry with generosity and we know, for some of our donors, giving to Mercy House is a huge sacrifice.  We have even had friends "urgently plead with us" for the privilege of giving. People have contacted us and asked how to give to our work and had to email me several times to ask -but persevered- because of out sheer busyness, I was lax in replying and out of sheer desire to give, they were compelled not to give up on us. 

When it comes to money and the mission field, there is an innate awkwardness that just IS. We subsist on the giving of our friends, family and those who have a heart for the things God has given us a heart for.  And we pray it doesn't change those relationships and make them "weird". 

But I will never be that missionary who makes my loved ones feel guilty for drinking "five dollar lattes", or taking a beautiful vacation.  NEVER!

 I lived a long and fairly prosperous pre-mission field life.  We worked hard and became debt-free except for our mortgage (Thanks, Dave Ramsey). We took family trips. We entertained in our home a lot.  We had a motorcycle, three cars and I had the privilege of being an at-home mother and homeschooling my beautiful kids.   And we gave to the work of the gospel in The Philippines because, even back then, this country had our hearts.

BUT . . .

I've also  been on the receiving end of pleas from ministries, church building programs and special projects from my brothers and sisters in The Faith that were simply guilt-inducing.  I watched videos of fly-encrusted babies with distended bellies.  I was told repeatedly that most of the world lives for a year on what I spend on one trip to Wal Mart.   I was reminded that mothers around the world watch their babies die of illnesses that I can just whip out my amoxicillin and ibuprofen and take care of easily in my own kids in three days or less.  Often, the idea of giving up my over-priced coffee to save children was mentioned because I could provide clean water to a whole village for the price of said beverage.

And all of those things are real and true.  They are happening.  I have seen them or their victims first hand since moving to this country.   

The plight of orphans and street children is awful here.  The challenge for those of us on the front lines is to balance the sharing of their stories with faith that the Lord moves hearts to give and we only need present the opportunity.  

And at the risk of patting ourselves on the back, we want to be very transparent about how we got here and how we remain here.  I mean, in "money talk". . .

We sold all our "stuff".   We allocated $50,000 of our own money to start Mercy House.  We've been given donations - big and small - by friends and strangers.   God has moved hearts and endeared our ministry to them. It's all HIM.  ALL.  HIM. He could have called any family and used any carbon-based life form to come over here, meet and touch these beautiful abandoned kids. We're thankful He's using us. Just thankful.

But that's OUR story.  

It's not meant to be a prototype for anyone else's story.  The selling-it-all-and-going  Christians are nothing without the staying-and-working-and-giving  Christians.  Period.  We're all pieces of the same puzzle.  Equal.  Vital.  Privileged.   I sometimes think the staying-and-working Believers have a more challenging call than those of us who are the sell-and-go types.  Sometimes.

So, we want to use this little space on the blogosphere to thank our staying-and-working partners, our coming-for-a-short-visit friends,  our praying-for-you-daily partners and our I-sent-you-a-box donors.  Those boxes are like water in the desert to our hearts. Pieces of home. 

 Thank you for your sacrifice.  Thank you for enjoying the privilege with us.  

FOR HIS FAME.

2 Corinthians 9:7 says:

" Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver."

 

 

Prodigal

I agonized over whether to blog this or not.  I considered the privacy of our family. The confidentiality of my son. The acquaintances who may have elevated our family too much and will be crushed to read this.   The close family members and friends who love this child.

But I decided after wrestling with the fear of man and trying to predict the possible fallout of sharing this family situation, to just be honest, let the truth speak for itself and I pray, most of all, that someone out there reading who has been down this road will feel less alone in just a few moments.

ONE OF MY SONS RAN AWAY FROM HOME

Just a couple of days ago, issues that had been boiling beneath the surface for years came to an I-can't-take-it-anymore pinnacle. On both sides.   

He packed and he left. 

He is technically an adult but he is not ready for the world.  He lacks some very crucial skills - like the ability to think of the feelings of others or the strength to stand firm in the face of temptation and peer pressure.   Likely, some of that lack is the fault of our own parenting.  It is also the fault of his own choices and years of  orphanhood and maybe even our life on the mission field.  

We told ourselves that the formula we used for parenting was a great one.

We still believe it is. We tried to point all of our children to Jesus at every opportunity.

We prayed for them. We PRAY for them.  We try to be good examples to them although we

know we fall so short so often.  

So as we serve orphans and abandoned children - street children - we are aware that our own "adult" son is probably living a life that would qualify him for services under some other ministry in our town.   My mind runs away with me as I consider the things he is probably participating in.  My heart breaks.  His innocence. His safety. His future.

But, ultimately, is not about ME. None of this is and none of this ever was. 

I am a mother and I "mothered" him.  I liked to believe that the allegiance of a mother, her listening ear and her helping hands can undo the years of not being anyone's son in a permanent way.  But again, that makes his life choices about me and they aren't. 

They are about his trust in his Heavenly Father and his willingness to humble himself in the sight of the Lord.

They are about understanding that our God is a jealous God and a consuming fire in the same fashion that he is a loving father and a faithful friend. 

This son has been taught the truth of God for many years. Long before we adopted him.  He has been loved, taken care of, provided for, guided and helped to choose a course for his future.   But that has been rejected in favor of going his own way. 

It feels a bit like a death but a lot more like a lesson.   How often are we "prodigal" before our father?  How many times have we taken all of his love and care for granted and been angry at Him for not simply footing the bill and allowing us to do whatever we please?  I know I have treated God this way.  Many times. It hits home in a new way now.   I have said, in effect "thanks for all the blessings, now leave me alone while I do whatever I want and try NOT to think of how it makes you feel."   

But in the parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15, I am NOT like the father.

I do not want my son back.

That sounds awful, I realize.  I am not saying I don't EVER want him back but I don't want him to come back and be the same.  I am praying that the son who comes home is NOT the same as when he left.   That he is humble.  And contrite.  And grasps the depth of forgiveness that will be extended to him. 

And it will.

But while I am praying for HIM to be these things. I want to be these things.  Lord, let me be humble and contrite. Show us where our own fault in this lies.  Most of all, let this - yes - even THIS bring glory to your magnificent name!  Holy. Sovereign. And Good.

It can and it will.  In HIS way.  In HIS time.

 Luke 15

²³ And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. ²⁴ For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’

The "Christian Vacation"

Recently, I've read and heard a good bit of scrutiny of short-term mission trips.  This could be because it's summertime in the US and many of my friends, or  the children of my friends, are fund raising for short term trips.

Once, a fellow missionary shared with me that short-terms teams just get in the way and bog down her schedule.  She saw my mouth agape and quickly followed up with a long list of all the reasons they are a blessing but, the cat was out of her proverbial bag by then.

Even Dave Ramsey, an author and financial teacher I greatly respect, referred to short-term mission trips as "A Christian Vacation".
In one of his radio bits, he balked at the way some Christians want to go help in other countries for very short amounts of time and they want YOU  to pay for it.   For some people, maybe that's the scheme. I can't speak for anyone going on a short-term mission trip nor can I address the motivation of his heart. 

Speaking purely as a parent, I loved the fact that two of my own children got to spend time on the field in Mexico, Romania, The Dominican Republic and The Philippines.  Those trips laid groundwork for the eventual moving of our own family to the field and, at the time of the short trips, we had no idea God was preparing them for it.  But He knew. 

What I CAN do is give you some pretty darn good compelling reasons why my family and I - missionaries to street children in The Philippines - LOVE having visits from "short termers".   I'd also like to share the benefits I perceive that the "short termer" might walk away with after a visit to a developing nation. Some of these are so obvious I feel slightly stupid even typing them but if even one person wrestling with whether to COME to the filed or just send money instead decided to actually come out here, I will sleep with a smile on my face tonight.

So, here it goes . . .

From the missionary's perspective, a team or small group of short term missionaries provide:

1. A Pep Rally - Just as in every facet of life, it's easy to fall into a routine and start going through your days a little numbly.  When visitors arrive at our ministry and we get to introduce them to the children, tour the areas our street kids used to live and talk about our plans for Mercy House, the fire in our hearts gets rekindled for what we are doing.  We are snatched from the mundane and reminded of the great things God has tasked us with.  And as much as we love seeing visitors get teary-eyed when we share the stories of our kids with them, we ourselves are choking back emotions and some of those emotions are gratefulness that we have, once again, been reminded of "the bigger picture".

2. A Chance to Teach- Anytime I'm talking to a visitor, especially a teen or young adult, I keep in the back of my mind that this could be a future missionary.  I am careful with my words so as not to discourage the listener nor to imply that anything apart from sharing the saving Good News of the atoning death of Jesus is paramount here.  It is easy to get "sidetracked" by meeting the felt needs of children who have lived horrible lives and to forget that, without the component of the gospel, we are wasting our time.   The chance to impress that on a short-term missionary is a golden opportunity I never want to miss.

3. The Ability to Spread the Fire - short term visitors will often return to their countries of origin with a huge heart for the ministry we have here. They will tell others, they will fund raise, they will encourage their friends to come.  This is vital to our sustainability.  Yes, God provides but He often uses the passion of short term visitors as the vehicle for our provision.   We need that.

4. Simple Friendships- It can get lonely out here on the field.  Making new friends is not as easy as it was in our old lives. We welcome those lasting friendships that can be spawned by serving side by side.


And some of the Blessings we hope our visitors will receive are .  . . .

1. A Cross-Cultural Experience-  Everything from the food to the restrooms is different in The Philippines.  It's so good for people to step out of their comfort zones and live on someone else's turf for awhile.  Yes, it's hard. Yes, you make a ton of silly mistakes that leave the locals snickering at you.  But, oh, the vast stores of knowledge you gain just by simply being away from all that is familiar.  They are priceless.

2.A Better Understanding of True Poverty- I remember joking about being "too poor" to eat out after church on Sunday when we lived back in America.  I never joke about being poor anymore.  Poverty is a brutal trap and it is much different from not having extra spending money.  It means not having the basics - food, clothing, clean water, medicine when you are sick, supplies needed to go to school.  I learned that living here.  It is our hope that short-term visitors will walk away with a better understanding of true poverty and that it is not always because the poor are lazy.  The poor in The Philippines are usually VERY VERY hard working - taken advantage of by their employers sometimes - and continuing to work manual jobs in intense heat because they know it means survival for them and their families.  Okay, sorry. Off the soap box.  This is something so dear to my heart and, maybe if you'll come and visit us, it will become dear to yours.

3. An Opportunity to Unplug and Listen- Internet out here is spotty and slow.  Visitors are not allowed to be online in our center for more than a few minutes a day to update family and friends.  Those components work together to help unplug our visitors from technology.  And on the field, that's a  GOOD thing.  It's hard to absorb what is going on around you with ear buds in your ears blasting
and youtube videos parading across your line of sight.  Thankfully, there's little time for those things on a short term trip. And you might be surprised how little you miss them when you're here.

4. Doing What You Were Created For- Yes, of course you can do what you were created for - worshiping and sharing your Savior - while in your own country. And you should!  Daily.  But there is something about being with people from a culture other than your own that removes the barriers of fear and makes people bold.  The communication barriers (although many here speak English) somehow help fear to diminish and boldness to creep in.  And when you have experienced truly, verbally, boldly sharing the gospel with a soul who  needs to hear about forgiveness, you are never the same.  That is something you take with you no matter what country you are in and, hopefully, continue to share.

So, if you are praying about going on a short-term mission trip and feeling like it may be a waste of time and money, PLEASE consider some of the points I've brought up here - and that they are coming from a real, live missionary living in a real, live developing nation.  And then write your support letters, have your car washes and bake sales, pack your bags and hop on that plane.  If God allows even ONE of these points above to become a reality in your own life, I think you will find it well worth the effort.

From the missionary perspective, I know we will.   So thank you, on behalf of all missionaries,  for considering, for praying, for stepping out in faith and for leaving your comfort zone to come and get your "hands dirty" for awhile. 

We hope to see you soon!

Church Outside the Walls

I'm in a weird spot right now.  Sometimes fantasizing about pushing the "pause" button but also wishing "fast forward" was an option.


Last Sunday, some friends hosted a picnic for our family to spend some time together before we go.
The weather was perfect. There were TONS of kids, lots of food, and I felt so contented just looking out at the people that God has put in our lives.  We have done nothing to deserve such supportive, precious friends.  He's just good like that!  I strive to BE as good of a friend to others as these faithful ones are to me.

Our house has been officially "on the market" for just over a week and we're preparing for our fifth showing in just a couple of hours.

Yesterday, our one and only public schooled son said "goodbye" to his friends and teachers. He will begin homeschooling on Monday. I have wanted this for a long time but had no real reason to force him to come home.  He was doing fine and he loves his friends.

I knew he was sad when he came in the door yesterday.  He didn't want to eat immediately after school like he usually does.  He was very quiet in the car as we had to vacate due to a showing.
We decided to go to Wendy's for a frosty,  the whole family.  When just he and I were at the table, I put my arm around him and asked
"Are you okay?".
He said "I might cry".   And he did.
It breaks my heart because he has suffered the most loss in his life of all of my children. I know it hits him hard that this chapter in his life is closed.
I assured him that we will get him together with his school friends very soon.
And I will.
This is a child for whom broken promises have characterized his early years. He still doubts, I think.
 But when I remind him that our move means he gets his Kuya, his big brother, full time, he perks up and eats a baconator, fries, frosty and part of my food.

I mentioned in an earlier post that we had to leave our church of three years (due to some serious integrity issues in leadership) and that whole ordeal comes back and washes over me every now and then.  We have a little of that vagabond feeling as we are terminal "visitors" at churches.
It's tiring and I'm just sad.  Sad and a little mad.

How much do we get involved? We're moving.
How much should we invest? We're burned and cynical.
Do we "join" somehwhere? Start going to a small group?
I think "no" and sometimes I think "never again".

I see why people gravitate to home churches with just a few families.  
But we are part of the People of God and we need to not forsake the assembling.
The Bible says that for a reason and that is the ONLY reason I am rising and going these days.
But it's reason enough.
He said it. We must do it.
 

I don't ever want to become one of those bitter old ladies who refuses to join a church because "someone said something that hurt my feelings 35 years ago".
But gosh, dangit . . . I'm starting to understand those old ladies a little better.  A lot better.

And that is why I have taken to calling my friends my "church outside the walls".  They minister to us and encourage.  They serve us and let us serve them. We talk about the things of God and what we are learning in our Bible studies and it feels more like "church" than "church" does.  

It's hard to imagine leaving the country like this.  But it's even harder to imagine staying.

So I want to thank my friends and family loud and proud . . .
our Church Outside the Walls.
I'm so thankful for that little catchphrase. It's a sweet reminder that we aren't wayfarers.
We are surrounded, protected, and we belong somewhere.