Beauty, not the rubble

I have delayed thinking about leaving. And I'm not sure what to feel about it now. I hope Mother Teresa's quote is true: "I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." Because I have surely loved until it hurts, deeply. I have come across the world only to find myself at home. However, a joy is growing deep in my soul. As long as I never forget the love and laughter, family and friendship here, it will always be with me. I have so much to do when I get home, it feels a little overwhelming. But, these memories and God's strength will encourage me in my weakness.

"This may not be the road I would have chose for me, but it still feels right some how. I have never felt You as close to me as I do right now. This is what it feels like to be led"

Everyone said coming here would change me, but I didn't understand how. When I first arrived, I said that Liberia has beauty amidst the rubble. I have found such beauty. And it is the beauty, not the rubble that has changed me.

More pictures

Me and a lady from the village by a papaya tree.
Liberian sunset
Liberian sunrise

Michael 3

This morning we went back to Pastor Peter’s house to have a special breakfast with the nannies. They are the caregivers for the kids with special needs in the Forget Me Not children’s home project. They are really wonderful women who care deeply for the children they are responsible for. This is unique in Liberian culture. One of the beautiful things about this is that the kids with special needs live right next to Pastor Peter’s house so all his children (biological and foster) all know each other. The breakfast went really well. For more about FMN go to http://forgetmenotchildrenshomes.blogspot.com/

Today I saw Michael right away when we pulled in, but he played shy for a while. The kids there all call me Michaelmom. So, I have another Liberian name. Today Michael is much better and doesn’t want to be held as much. But, he is starting to understand since I’m here he gets special privileges. The nannies had donuts for breakfast, but the other children weren’t allowed to have any. With me standing by his side, Michael helped himself to not one, but two donuts. Funny! Now my friends wonder if I’m spoiling him already. Really? : )

Today I brought the little photo album of pictures. There were a few pictures of Michael and some family pictures. He paged through them over and over. I told him everyone’s name and how they are related to him. When he saw the picture of him and Varney, he said, “Varney.” That was cool because he has only said a few words. I think about it like meeting your newborn. I talk, he listens. Lots of the kids wanted to look at Michael’s pictures. It was interesting to see who he would let look at it and who he didn’t. He knows his friends well.

We blew more bubbles and just hung out. It was a good day. He smiles when I ask him to. I’ve seen him giggle a little. It is such a blessing to be with him.

Michael 2

Today we went back to Pastor Peter’s house. Christina, director of Forget- me- Not, is meeting with the nannies to do training and physical therapy for the kids with special needs. I thought Michael was in school, so I wasn’t looking for him. He wasn’t in school and he found me! He was really hot again. I took him to Christina to have her look at him. His temp was 103.2. She gave him some medicine right away and Josephus, her Liberian partner in FMN ministry, said he has malaria and gave me medicine for him. I took it to Peter’s wife. I know her name, but can’t spell it. Anyway, she will give him the medicine.

I also had Christina look behind his ear. He had some drainage. There is an infected cut there. So, I took antiseptic cream and cleaned it. She also gave some cream to help that clear up.

He didn’t have any energy again. So I carried him, rocked him and sang to him again. I kissed his head and held him close. Oh how I wish I would never forget how it feels to hold him. I am concerned that he is sick, but thankful I could be here to hold him.

After a little bit, his fever broke. And he climbed off my lap. I didn’t follow him, and after a few minutes he came back with his Legos. I was thrilled! He climbed back on my lap and I saw the tower that he had made on his own. Well done! We decided to make one of the houses from the directions. Another boy, probably about 10, helped. I like him. So, we played with Legos for a while. After we were done, I got out some bubbles I had brought. I gave Michael one wand and I took one and we blew bubbles for the other children. While we were doing that, Pastor Peter walked by and said, “Now I am beginning to understand why American kids are spoiled.” It was so funny. I thought, Peter, you haven’t seen anything, all I did was give him a backpack for school, Legos for his birthday (it’s next week, he will be six) and some bubbles to play with.

Way too soon it was time to go. I hugged him and kissed him and told him I would be back tomorrow.

Habakkuk's grave

I forgot to finish my story about Michael and Habakkuk's grandma's house. So, I asked these two young men where grandma's house is. They showed me the place her hut used to be. I think then I asked about where Habakkuk was buried and they said,"Do you want to know? It's right here." And literally 20 steps from Grandma's house is a oval ring of stones the size of a small dining room table. This is Habakkuk's grave.

I knew that after the grandpa had died, the grandma had asked for Habakkuk to come to her. Michael actually stayed in Monrovia. It was while Habakkuk was there that he got cholera. The grandma told the boys to bury him close to her. So, they buried him on the other side of the footpath. Which, get this, is about 30 steps from Habakkuk's well.

It was meaningful to see his grave, but it meant more to sit by the well and outline the letters of his name- Habaku. Habaku's life brought life to his village, my village. And his life goes on.

Kpeletayama village continued

We walked back the way we came, only to find that Pastor Peter's truck had a flat tire. And, no spare. Not a great place for a flat. We walked up the hill to where Peter's parents live and got cell phone reception there. Peter called Professor Flomo and told them to come for the tire. They came and got the tire, drove to a town to get it repaired and then drive back to us. This may sound simple but it took hours. God was merciful. We had a good time relaxing after a busy day and just being together. No one complained, not even the pampered Americans. I learned more about farm life in Liberia and realized how much at home I feel at Kpeletayama, much more than in Monrovia. Now, I call myself "the girl from the small village". I used to just think I was the girl from a small town.

Also, very important. The women of the village gave me a Kpele name. I am called Younger (pronounced: youn ga, actually it's really hard to explain the right way to say it, but that's close). Everyone says it's a good name. Now, I am considered part of the village.

We arrived home late and very tired. However, we laughed and joked all the way home. It was much bumpier on the drive home b/c it is so much harder to see the pot holes, which gave me great appreciation for how smooth our drive up was. Anyway, I haven't laughed so much for a long time. My sides hurt. Our team has wonderful humor and friendship. We are family.

Even with some trouble, everyone agreed it was a good, good day. A beautiful day.

Pictures so far

Michael and I. he started feeling better after the medicine kicked in. He has malaria. Very high fever and low energy. But, it was wonderful to hold him and rock him and sing to him.

Me by the choco bean.
Michael with his soccer ball. He really likes soccer.

We will consolidate our pictures at the end of the trip, but these are some of mine so far.

Kpeletayama village

At 6 am Wed. am, we left for Kpeletayama village. This is the village where Michael, Habukkuk and Pastor Peter were born. We drove to Kakata first and stopped to give gifts to the Weir’s sponsored children and took lots of pictures. We stopped to buy more lollipops for the children. Then we were on the road again. Next though Salala and Tatatu. Somewhere in there we stopped at the Ku Ku Nest Coffee Shop. Last potty break before the bush.

The road up to that point was pretty good. After getting off the paved road with pot holes, we went on a road that would be great for four wheel driving. : ) I loved it! Others in the car weren’t so excited. I get to sit in the middle of the front seat. Great view! Peter is an excellent driver.

Oh, on the way, I asked Peter the names of many trees. There was some teasing that maybe Peter should watch the road instead of look at trees. I learned about banana trees, papaya, palm, cotton, and mango trees. Very fun.

So, the last couple of miles was through the rain forest. It was very exciting. We arrived at the end of the road. Some children had been watching for us. They ran back to the village to tell of our arrival. Peter explained that the road was built after his sister died of labor complications and died in the hammock carrying her to the main road where they hoped to catch a ride to Phoebe hospital. He told the people they needed to build a road or no hope could come to the village. Now, you can drive almost all the way there.

We walked the last part. The bridge over the first stream was washed away, so we had to walk through the water. It was a little slippery getting in, but OK. The next stream was bigger and there was still a log over it, but the hand rail was gone from last time. I was carrying my backpack, but got across fine. The village was only a first steps away.

The village women welcomed us with hugs and greetings. Habakkuk’s well was right in front of me. It was very good to see. So far, my emotions were steady. We had a meeting right away. Pastor Peter welcomed us to the village and told us some sad news. Another sister of Peter’s was rushed to the hospital with severe bleeding. I prayed that God would spare Peter’s sister. Please, God, not again. May this road save her life.

The first thing we did was wash our feet with a bucket of water from Habakkuk’s well. It was a beautiful greeting.

Then Donna introduced our team. She introduced me last and asked me to talk about my involvement in the well. I talked, I don’t remember much of what I said, but I do remember saying that Pastor Peter told me that Habakkuk isn’t really dead, because of the well he is alive. And, if Jesus is your Savior than you are my brothers and sisters. Peter had been translating for me, but when I said that, he asked someone else to translate. He was getting dust in his eyes.

After that, we tried as well as we could to organize the medical clinic and clothes & toys area. It was a little difficult. I was trying to give out boy clothes. The clothes I had were 18 mon to 3T, so the older boys got matchbox cars. After seeing me struggle, a man from the village stepped in to help me. He was really helpful. I also gave him the soccer balls and pump, but then I had to ask for it back to pump up three more soccer balls. The teen boys were SO excited. I guess the village has a team and they play against other villages. However, they overinflated one of the balls and then were fighting over it and it popped. The boy who caused the problem looked like he was going to cry. But, he asked me to take of picture of him with the broken ball anyway.)

I asked a couple of young men where Michael and Habakkuk had lived. Grandma's house was gone. (I'll finish this part later)

When the medical supplies were gone and the candy was given out, it was time to go. We packed up our things

Michael

This morning I met my son Michael for the first time.

Everyone, especially Peter, was anxious for me to meet him. He was in school, so Peter took me over to the school and called for Michael to come out. I had no idea how it would feel, but actually, it was anticlimactic. Peter introduced me to him as his Mama. He was really, really shy. I gave him the soccer ball from my brother-in-law & family. And showed him the backpack and supplies I brought. He sat on my lap and I held him.

After a few minutes, Peter invited me to the back of the house where there is a large tree and a cool breeze. I held Michael and I gave him the legos. I showed him how to use them and which way they stick together and we played with them for a long time. In the mean time, I gave the kids around us peppermints. I didn't let them play with Michael's Legos and neither did he. After a while, he seemed tired and we put them away.

Peter had said that Michael had been "hot headed". I figured out quickly that he meant Michael had a fever. After Legos, he started shaking. His head was really warm. I scooped him up on my lap and rocked him. He cuddled into my chest and I began to sing to him. The first song was Jesus Love Me. I just held him and rocked him, kissed his head and sang. Peter walked by and asked if I had dust in my eyes, I really hadn't noticed the couple of tears. I had brought some children's Tylenol and I asked that he have some. Peter's wife gave him some. After a while, his fever seemed to be a little better and we shared a banana.

Then we get the Legos out again and built a really tall tower. Michael caught on to them really fast I was impressed with his creativity. And observation skills. He watched how I held the Legos to make sure they didn't fall apart while he was building and soon he was doing the same thing.

I asked some of the girls to "plate my hair. That got a lot of attention, with much laughing. At least it's cooler.

Then it was time to say good bye. I scooped up Michael, kissed him and hugged him and said I would be back. And, that I loved him. There was a little dust in my eyes as we left.

Liberia

Arriving in Liberia.

Maybe it was because I was tired and sore, maybe I just didn't have enough energy, but arriving in Liberia wasn't exactly how I thought it would be. We arrived a half hour early. So, I was slow gettting off the plane, I wasn't sure when or if my ride was coming. I was last to go through the check in. Since i wasn't planning on coming alone, I had no idea where I was staying. And that caused some problems at the window. The offical said they could send me back for not having an address. The man behind the window whispered to put some money in the passport. I stuck a $20 in and then there was no problem. Next I waited for luggage. Then the President arrived so everything shut down. When it started, my luggage wasn't there. (the carry on suitcase they made me check in MSP) I was last in line for filing a missing luggage report. Then I was last out of the airport, and no one was there. Three or four men were trying to help me. One was trying to call the only number I knew, which turned out not to be the number I could right her at anyway. After about 15 min, a white truck drove up, and the men said, "There are your friends!" Yes, it was them. So, then I cried. I tried not to, but really. And I haven't even told what happened in Brussels. I'm too mad. Let's just say a nasty woman cost me $254.

So, I met Pastor Peter and gave him a big hug. I was so glad to see him. They fixed my missing baggage claim so that they can call Peter when it comes in. Apparently it was likely in First Class since it was checked at the gate, but they must not have checked. Anyway, the airport is not in Monrovia, so we had a long drive.

We had pizza of all things when we got back. And I settled in our bed and breakfast. It's quite nice, considering the ads I saw in the airport were advertising hotels that had 24 hr electricity, hot and cold water and 6 channels. I found that humorous. I took a shower and went to bed.

Breakfast was good. Yes, we have coffee. I also had mango juice. It's OK. And then off to Peter's house. There are two main roads that are paved like US streets, one is double lanes, if that means anything, b/c the rules are drive however you can, just try not to hit someone. It's a little uncomfortable for some of my companions, but it doesn't bother me. My sit is the middle of the front b/c I'm the smallest. I like it b/c I can see everything.

It's not a shock to me. I'm not sure why, but it feels normal. Like I'm not really visiting for the first time. Maybe a good way to describe it is there are flowers growing in the rubble, if you are looking for them, they are everywhere.

Not what I would have chosen

Well, thanks to Obama I missed my connecting flight in
Atlanta. I and about 10 other people missed the flight
by about 10 min. The plane was still there, but we
weren't allowed to board. That, after running with
a 50 lb backpack on my back through the airport.

I am staying at the Wynham Gardens in Atlanta tonight
and fly out tomorrow at 5:50pm to Brussels (not even
funny)then to Monrovia. I will arrive in Monrovia at
4:30 pm on Mon.

My baggage is flying with me as it did not make the
flight either.

I have neither cell phone or credit card with me. I
didn't need either in Monrovia.

I have met many angels today though. Strangers who
have shown me kindness. That is the blessing b/c I am
facing many things I would not have chosen. Mainly:
~I did not want to fly alone from MSP let alone all the
way to Monrovia.
~I did not want to fly through Brussels, yet that is
the only way there now.

My backpack made it through as a carry on, thank GOD!
But, my carry on w/wheel did not. It was checked at no
extra charge, which turns out to be a blessing. As
trekking with the bp is plenty plenty (as they say
in Liberia). And, my backpack has the stuff I need,
so that was good.

So, that's the end of the first day of this God-
ordained trip (I believe that, even if it doesn't
feel like it right now.)

I leave for Liberia in the morning

I leave for Liberia in the morning and I should go to bed now. I have joy in my heart and peace in my mind. I can rest.

Uncommon

I am doing a very unamerican thing, maybe it's plain unnatural:
I am choosing to move towards the pain.

I was talking to someone this weekend and told them about my hope to see Varney, even though we can't adopt him. She asked why I would do that to myself. I found it difficult to explain. I am choosing to see Michael and leave Liberia without him. I am choosing to visit Habbakuk's well and let that life-giving water flow over my fingers as I weep.

Life is a cup of joy and sorrow. We can either choose to drink all of it or none at all. If I am too careful and only try to sip the parts I want, I miss the fullness. I am comforted by Job: "Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" With hope and faith, I accept it all. Whether God gives or takes away. I want to bless His name.

I am choosing the road less traveled, and less traveled for good reason! As the song below says, "What if the right was harder than the wrong thing, but I did it anyway?" What if I choose to enter the brokenness and pain of people and wasn't afraid it would overwhelm me? What if I reached the bottom of my own strength and found out His strength really is sufficient for me?

I know it's Uncommon, but I'm not the only one who is thinking that way.


To hear song go to: http://westarprogramsonline.com/tonydungy/

"UNCOMMON"
Written by: Matthew West
© 2009 Songs by Delaney (ASCAP)

What if there's something bigger for me out there
Than the comfort of a life on this middle ground?
I've played it safe but now I can't help but wonder
If maybe I've been missing out
'Cause I look around and see a sea of people
Everybody's moving in the same direction
And I think it's time to break away, break away

CHORUS
I wanna finally take the road less traveled
I wanna run away from anything typical
I want the world to see the life I'm livin'
And call itUncommon

What if the right thing was harder than the wrong thing
But I did it anyway?
Standing strong even when no one else was watching
What if I really lived that way?
Every heart has it's defining moment
This is mine and I'm not gonna miss it

CHORUS

I don't care if it makes me look different
I'm never letting go of my convictions
Let the world see the life I'm livin'
And call it Uncommon

What if I made it to the end of my days here
Only to find that my legacy is nowhere to be found
I don't wanna waste another second
Give me the strength to start right now

Still true

I wrote this post a few months ago as I thought about what this trip would mean to me. It's still true.

http://journeytolove-peggy.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-love-you-all-time.html

Radio interview on Front Page

Today Mark had me on Front Page to talk about our adoption journey and my upcoming trip to Liberia.

Listen at:
fpx10-18-10.mp3

(The first 15 min is political update. I'm after that.)

Before a heartache can ever touch my life,

it has to go through Your Hands.

I know You can find a way to keep me from the pain, but if not, I'll trust Y0u.

Well, I found another song to express my heart. Tonight I found out that there was another meeting in Liberia about Varney. His uncle is committed to keeping his relatives together. Varney will be reunified with relatives and not returned to Pastor Peter. He will not be available for adoption.

If you have followed my story, you know I have wrestled and prayed and longed for God's best for the boys I love. And I chose to trust that this is God's plan for our Varney. May he be all that God designed for him to be.

I can probably still see him on my trip, and I hope to. Yes, I realize how bittersweet that will be, but if I could have met Habakkuk before we lost him, I would have.

I don't understand what God's good plan is for me and for the pain I experience, but I chose to believe it is for my good and God's glory. Please pray for me and the kids, as I have not told them yet. And, if you can come next Tues or Fri night at 7 pm to my house to pray for me and my trip to Liberia, please come.

Long Overdue Update

I am going to Liberia Oct. 23 to Nov 1 to visit the boys and the well. I'm  really
excited, but it doesn't seem real yet. If you want to send anything, I'm  hoping to
take soccer balls (deflated) and match box cars. Also, basic  children's med. and
vitamins. I will leave a week before Michael's sixth  birthday.   

I didn't want to say anything sooner, but we almost lost Varney. His uncle who lives
in the US was back in Liberia to visit and was upset about Varney  being at Pastor
Peter's house. So, he was removed for a few weeks. Finally, the  police and a gov.
agency had a hearing and the uncle was a no-show. Varney  should be going back to
Peter's house soon. And, in the end, it should end any  further questions about
Varney's eligibility for adoption.

Things are moving in Liberia as far as the adoption goes. There has been a lot 
of progress and we hope to know soon how much longer it will be. My prayer is 
that by Christmas, we will know when we will travel to bring them home.