Small Steps

I don't know if you've ever thought about writing an autobiography. I haven't really given it serious consideration, but a while ago Mark and I were talking about what we would name it. My title was "Small steps in the Right Direction". That reminds me of the scripture that has guided me this year is Hebrews 12:1-4.

 ¹ Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. ² We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne. ³ Think of all the hostility he endured from sinful people; then you won’t become weary and give up.

We are all on a journey. Mine has felt like a marathon and I am not a runner! And, learning to pace myself takes discipline. So, I am learning to throw off distractions and let go of little sins that trip me up. I am focused on Jesus. I have a race to run. Not only that, but 1 Cor. 9:24 says:

²⁴ Don’t you realize that in a race everyone runs, but only one person gets the prize? So run to win! 

 I will run to win and not give up. To do that, I accept that joy and sorrow are bound together on the journey.. If I refuse to accept sorrow, I am disqualified from joy. Look back at Jesus' example from Heb. 12 it was the joy before Him that gave Him the courage to endure the cross. My blog may look like one of continual sorrow.  But I believe 2Cor. 4:17.

For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! 

I choose not to waste sorrow in my life, but to let it shape me and change me. I refuse to become hard, but allow my heart to be broken. I have yet to experience a pain so deep that God's mercy did not carry me through. 

Today my heart is heavy because my dear brother in Liberia, Pastor Peter, is very ill. He has experienced severe pain for over a week. I have prayed. I have asked others to pray. I don't understand why God allows him to suffer so much. My heart has felt bruised. I know Papa allows us to ask our "why" questions, although He rarely answers them. I just keep going back to the song I posted recently "Trust His Heart". 

God is too wise to be mistaken
God is too good to be unkind
So when you don't understand
When you don't see His plan
When you can't trace His hand
Trust His heart

Carries me though

This time of year is so full of thoughts of Michael for me. Today we were getting coats, snow pants, hats and mittens ready for school tomorrow from the pile of such items accumulated in the entry way. As I sorted and organized, I found a small yellow jacket, too small for Dawson. Before I could stop it the thought "I wonder if this would fit Michael" sailed through my mind.

There are draws full of clothes that are already too small for him. There is a closet and bed waiting. His name is on the wall. He is present in this house even though his body has never been here.

Some times it doesn't ache so deeply. But lately, it does. Every beautiful dark skinned child is a reminder of my son. I do trust that God knows what He is doing. I do believe that God is working out His good purposes for Michael and for us. But it would be misleading to suggest that faith and trust take away confusion and pain. No, they are the strength that carries me through.

Trust His Heart

All things work for our good though sometimes we can't see how they could
struggles that break our hearts in two sometimes blinds us to the truth

Our Father knows what's best for us His ways are not our own
So when your pathway grows dim, and you just can't see Him
Remember you're never alone

God is too wise to be mistaken
God is too good to be unkind
So when you don't understand
When you don't see His plan
When you can't trace His hand
Trust His heart

He sees the master plan And He holds our future in His hands
So don't live as those who have no hope All our hope is found in Him

We see the present clearly But He sees the first and the last
And like a tapestry He's weaving you and me to someday be just like Him

God is too wise to be mistaken
God is too good to be unkind
So when you don't understand
When you don't see His plan
When you can't trace His hand
Trust His heart

He alone is faithful and true He alone knows what is best for you
So when you don't understand  When you don't see His plan
When you can't trace His hand trust His heart

Go to an October post to hear the song.

Joy and sorrow of the season

I have thought about posting often, but not motivated enough to write. Nov. 7 was Michael's birthday. I thought about him constantly all week. Thanksgiving weekend is the three year anniversary of our first homestudy appointment. And, Dec. 13 will be three years since I saw Michael's picture for the first time with the question, "Could this be your son?" Again, this Christmas we put up the decorations that we thought for sure he'd be here for this year. I hang up his stocking, again. Open his box of ornaments, he gets one every year too.

No one asks me what I want for Christmas, It would be silly. There is only one thing and maybe next year he'll be here.

One year ago today I left Liberia after my first visit

All this week I've been reliving my first visit to Liberia last year. The day I arrived. The first time I saw Michael. Drinking water from Habakkuk's Well. And today, leaving. It's been a bittersweet week. I wish I was there again this year.

As the plane lifted off from Roberts International airport, I began crying and I sobbed all the way to Accra. I sat in the middle of the middle row, not a good spot for a private emotional breakdown. Oh well.

So much has happened in one year. Only God could have known what He had in store for me. I can't wait to see what happens this year.

Trust His Heart

Blessings in waiting aren't always easy to see

I'm subbing today and had a couple of my friend's kids in my classes. They were adopted a few years ago. I hadn't seen them for a while and I noticed how big they were growing! My friend and I began the adoption journey about the same time. She is celebrating her time together with her children while I remember how long I've waited.

Sometimes it's not so hard. Lots of times I'm thankful for all God has done in the waiting. And, sometimes it's really, really painful. Today is one of those days. It doesn't bother me when friends ask about the adoption- are there any updates? I appreciate that they are waiting with me. The hardest thing is seeing kids that remind me of Michael.

On the adoption update: There are rumors of adoption opening this fall. We'll see. Liberia is electing a president this week. There are a lot of things that can happen. Maybe this time. In any case, I hope to go to Liberia again in the spring. I will see him then.

Until then, Lord, bless Michael and keep him. Make Your face to shine on him and give him peace. May he grow to love You with all his heart, and soul, and mind. May he love You always and follow You all the days of his life. Send Your angels to watch over him. Guard his heart, mind and body. Let him know how much he is loved. I trust You. Amen.

It looks like hope

This morning Grace (8) asked me what I would wish for if I had one wish. Without thinking deeply, I replied, "I wish Michael would come home." A few minutes later, Alaina (6) asked when Michael would be coming home. I told her, "God only knows." She said, "We should pray." I responded that we do pray. She was quiet for a few minutes, then she informed me that she had just prayed herself.

Later, I talked to a friend who said that it was looking very good for the adoption ban to be lifted this fall and that adoptions would begin. What a flood of emotions: hope, but not too much;. Joy, but please not overwhelming; fear, what if it's delayed again; and that empty feeling that I get when I can't bear all the other feelings anymore.
Michael told Pastor Peter one morning,"Papa, you are my first father and the white Man and woman is my second parent." 

Every bit of details about him is so precious. Here is the newest picture.

Suffering now, joy later. I guess that's why dessert comes last.

OK, here's one of my little secrets. One of my favorite things about being an adult is that no one, well at least most people, don't tell me I can't have dessert first. If I want to have a little something sweet before dinner and ruin my appetite. I can. I never had that privilege as a kid and I enjoy that freedom now.

I wish the rest of life was so simple. There are days when I can look at Michael's picture and smile for the joy knowing him has brought to my life and the ways I have grown because of loving him. And then there are days when I just cry. There is a very sweet little boy in my neighborhood who comes over to play. He is black and about Michael's age. I love it when he is at our house. I can taste a little of what it would be like to have Michael here.

Whether now or later, I will be with him someday. And I do have deep joy knowing he is loved and cared for where he is. And, he knows I love him too. 

A new leg of the journey

"This is not the way I would have chosen" is a line from a Ginny Owens song that I just posted in the side bar to my blog. Her song captures my journey. And now, a new adventure. 

My husband, Mark, and our friend, Pastor Peter Flomo, have embarked on a mission called Teamwork Africa. 

Teamwork Africa is dedicated to planting churches and resourcing them to meet the spiritual and physical needs of their communities in the interior of Liberia, West Africa.

 We are very excited to partner with The Last Well in this project. We are also sponsoring children that have lost their fathers and their families are in Our goal is to start 10 church plants in the interior of Liberia. Many of these communities don't have clean drinking water, so one of our top priorities is a well or biosand filters. We also sponsor children whose fathers have died and their families are in desperate poverty. To find out about these and other projects, go to: http://teamworkafrica.blogspot.com/

Michael lost his first tooth a couple weeks ago. I had heard a few people give different ages for Michael, so I checked out his teeth when I saw him in March I was surprised to see he hadn't lost any teeth yet which makes me think he is between 5 and 6 yrs old instead of almost 6 1/2 yrs old.

Here is Pastor Peter's description of Michael:

Michael has sided with my son to become Electricians.  He modifies and designs things from his toys.  All Michael knows is that his parents live in the USA.  He is in the middle of two parents.  I am now fully in charge as a Dad especially over my ripe plum.  Michael is a smart little boy.  He is growing another teeth.

Missing you

Thursday night we had a living room full of friends come to hear about our trip to Liberia. Our friend, Joe, made an awesome video for us about the trip. I had a lump in my throat from the beginning as I saw the pictures of our Michael.

Sometimes, maybe it's easier to focus on the whole of Liberia than that one little boy I love so much. I was reading a friend's blog about hugging her son who was adopted a few years ago and the bond of trust that is still growing. Of course, I thought about hugging my own little boy, who I have now left twice and don't know when I will see him again.  

This is a picture of Michael taken after we left. My friend, Donna, was there. See, we had taken Michael with us to the airport the first time, when we thought we were going to leave. That 45 min drive, with Michael on my lap was so painful. Even though, I was disappointed that we got bumped from our flight, there was one little boy who wasn't sad at all. I am so thankful for the extra time we had with him, but not without a cost. The second time went to the airport, we didn't bring Michael with us. I asked to say good bye at Peter's house. Yes, I was the one who could not bear that long ride to the airport holding him. I told myself that it would be easier for him. That he would busy himself in his familiar surroundings after we left. That he would forget. 

As hard as it was for me to say good bye, I have no idea how that felt to him. And the pain I feel not knowing whether he feels abandoned by us is deep. The look on his face in this picture.

And yet, why the pain? Because of the joy. Because of love, Because of hope.

 When he was with us, he must have known he was loved. To hear him laugh when Mark tickled him, was the most beautiful music to me. Mark said I beamed when I watched them together.

I don't understand why. I can't explain how come God hasn't opened wide the way for him to be with us. But we pray. And, we pray. And really, all I know to do is pray and love and hope.

Memories of Michael

I wish I had the words and the time to fully describe our time in Liberia. There are moments that I was sure I'd never forget and yet even those fade slowly. Here are a few precious hours spent with Michael that we never want to forget.

The first time we saw Michael, on this trip, him came right to me. I lifted him up in my arms and thought my heart would burst.
It was so different from the first time we met. Last time, I loved him, but I didn't know him. This time, we both knew each other. The memory of holding him is so strong in my arms. "The substance of things hoped for", for that moment was real.

I must admit, at the time, I was selfish. I needed a few minutes with Michael myself before I could share him with Mark.

Michael was shy of Mark at first. But at the afternoon, unfolded, I watched a father and son bond grow before my eyes.

This is Mark and Michael's first picture together.















This is their second picture.

During the afternoon, Pastor Peter took us to New Life community. On this property, Peter dreams of building a school, a medical clinic, and guest house.

The city of Monrovia is built on a peninsula. The area ideally can hold 500,000. Currently there are over 1 million people living there. As the city expends, it will move towards Peter's land and he wants to be prepared to meet the needs of the people.

After seeing the foundation for Great King Academy, the new foundation for the medical clinic and the progress on the guest house, we went to get supper.

I asked if Michael could stay with us for the night and Peter agreed.


Mark read books to Michael just like he does our other kids. It seemed so natural.

Sometimes you wonder what it will be like when you see this child you have prayed for and dreamed of so long. Will he feel like "yours"?


For us, it felt so natural to embrace him as "ours". Nothing felt weird. It seemed normal.

Two of my favorite pictures. Michael loved being tickled by Mark. By the next day, I think he preferred Mark to me.

The teacher's house in Kpeletayama

We were so happy to see the teacher's house in Kpeletayama. As soon as we arrived, little kids were telling Mark and I: Tank you for the teacher's house.

The house is beautiful and bigger than I expected. I'm so excited to learn that Nancy, George's wife and a trained midwife, will be doing baby deliveries in the kitchen of the new house. This house has real glass windows and an indoor toilet!

Baby Esther

Please pray for Baby Esther. She is five months old and the size of a newborn. She has a terrible birth defect. Her head is too small and she is probably missing part of her brain.

Beginning of day 5:

We packed up at the old missionary trip. A mother brought a young child to see Peter. She is a toddler, small enough to still carry. She has a birth defect, Her foot is twisted like Brown’s, but her hands are good and although her other foot is missing some toes, her leg still works. That is good. Peter took pictures of her and gathered information. She will be on the list of children for medical visa. It's amazing how kind and gentle Peter is with these chidren and their mothers. He carefully records the information in a notebook that he always keeps with him and takes pictures of the child. It is so obvious how much he loves children.

We had the pineapple for breakfast that was given to us as a gift. Later we also had rice. It is a really big deal that Mark and I are willing to eat rice from the bowl with the rest of the team. We all get a spoon and eat together. It didn’t seem like a big deal to me, I was glad to have a spoon. But it meant a lot to the people watching. I guess some white people have not even eaten the rice, let alone share the bowl.

So, we started off towards Gbarnga. We stopped to see the grave of a mother and wife of a pastor. She was in labor pain, but she died because there was no transportation to get her to the hospital in time. She died in the hammock that carried her and she was buried along the road. Her grave was well cared for as she must have been well loved.

We continued through Gbarnga, stopped to get some disel, and continued on. Mark has been reading 5 Dysfunctions of a Team out loud to Peter. Peter loves it and has already learned so much from it. He says this book probably won't make the trip back to the US and I think Mark has already conceded that he is right.

End of Day 4:

I still have much to write about yesterday, but not enough time to write it. So, I must start with what touches me deepest and hope that I will remember the rest another day.

At the end of our busy day, we returned to the old missionary house. As things were being arranged, I saw a baby in her mother’s arms. I had wanted to hold a baby all day. Now I asked to hold this one. She seemed so tiny, with big bright eyes. I prayed over her the prayer I pray for my children. May the Lord bless you and keep you… I asked some ladies the age of the child. They said 5 months. I thought how could that be. She is so small, maybe the size of a newborn. I noticed her forehead seemed narrow. Then Mark and Peter took pictures of me and Ester, the child. Peter also noticed this child seemed small. He evaluated the child and asked questions to her mother. Ester is the youngest of three, although her mother looks no older than 20. Peter says she has mild CP and microcelphus. Of all the babies, I saw today, this one I was able to hold. This one is very sick. I pray, oh how I pray, God led me to this child for life, not death. For hope and a future. Oh God, please, bless this child and keep her. Make your face to shine on her and be gracious to her. Give her a hope and a future. Amen.

Also, we gave away all ten birth kits today. I met Nancy, yesterday. She is Pastor George’s wife and an experienced midwife. She has an excellent midwife kit that is from UN, I think. It has more supplies than our simple kits, yet it lacks some of the disposable things. When they move into the new house, she will begin delivering babies in the kitchen because there is no midwife house in the village. However, delivering in the kitchen with a clean floor is much better than on a dirt floor, which is what they have now.

(Took a break for supper, rice and chicken again. This is the 5th time today we have been offered rice and chicken to eat.)

OK, it’s after supper now and I’m a little calmer now than I was before. I just had my first “bucket shower” and I feel refreshed, especially since we left Moko’s yesterday morning. I’m typing at Kristy’s laptop while my 4 gb of pictures and video download to a flash drive and listening to Chris Tomlin on Kristy’s Ipod in the middle of the Liberian jungle in the old missionary house with a generator for electricity and for that I’m really thankful. I did bring 5 small batteries-lanterns, they help at night. There is also a toilet here. Big bonus. I’m seen some interesting “bathrooms” on this trip.

Completion of the pastor's seminar.

End of Day 3:

Peter picked us up only 15 min. late, traffic, he said. He brought Othera (O-rita) and his daughter to do my hair. So, I have braids again. We left from Moko’s and went to Peter’s. I saw Michael again. So good to hold him and kiss him. We took more pictures. I’ve gotten two different reports on his age. Othera said he is 5 and Auntie Mary said he was 8. So, I asked him if I could look at his teeth. Oh my gosh! I have never seen teeth so bad! Later I asked Peter and he said Michael hasn’t lost his baby teeth yet. I hope that is true.

So, from there we left for Bong County. Peter, Mark, Pastor Quina, another pastor, me, Pastor George and Huggins. Pastor George met his wife in Gbarga. She is a midwife and she has a great kit that she uses. I got video of her describing it to me.

Then, we drove and drove until we came to Moses Quina Town. The roads got worse the farther we went. We shared roasted almonds along the way.

Once we arrived, the people were so happy to see us. Many people greeted us warmly. Pastor Quina told the story of the killing of seven men in the village. Now those widows have to do the farmwork and their children try to stay with Pastor Quina to go to school. All those children call him father and look to him to help provide for them.

Then the bell rang for the service to start. We were invited in to eat something. Yes, they rang the bell and then we ate. It give people time to come in from the fields, it’s harvest time. We ate rice, greens and plantain. I liked to plantain. It is a mix between banana and potato. Mark liked the rice and greens better. After that, they arranged the benches so that maybe 50 people could sit in the church. Peter introduced Mark and then Mark gave the Gospel presentation. Then Peter invited those who wanted to become believers to come to the front and receive Christ. Sixteen came forward to respond to the invitation.

The Jesus film was also shown that night as well, after we left. Eight more people responded to the Gospel after the film. We didn't stay for the film, but headed to Dwight-a (no idea of the spelling). There is an old missionary house there. It was built in the 1930's and a missionary family came to live there in the 1950's and stayed until the '70s. Most believers in the area can trace their faith back to this couple and their 5 children. It was an honor to stay in the house of these missionaries and consider the legacy they left behind. I pray we can build on the foundation they built.

We brought a generator, so the house has electricity. We used batteries lanterns while they set it up. There is a toilet (bounus!) but you have to dump water down it to get it to "flush" and the bathroom "door" is a blanket, for which I am thankful. Also, Peter and the pastors were thoughtful enough to get a net for Mark and I to sleep under. Drawback: no a/c although it wasn't that hot during the night.