Faith and Courage in our Calling

Gib starts preaching from the pulpit about the topic he covered in the fall. Busyness. Our attempts at decluttering our lives. He went on to say that he would be revisiting that topic in 2015. The congregation hadn't quite grasped it. We all acknowledge we need to revise our priorities and declutter the unimportant stuff but then there is a breakdown in the acknowledgement and the implementation. The biggest challenge, Gib says, is not giving God our resources, it's giving him our time. I see it myself when I travel from Haiti to the States. In Haiti, I'm happy to give God my time. There are few friends, no where to physically go, nothing to spend money on, expensive internet, etc. Giving God my time is possible and realistic in Haiti. Ministry lends itself to that. Coming to the States - not as much. We are in the States two months and it is a sprint, not a marathon. We put coats on, hurry out the door, go from one event to the next, stop five places before getting back to the house. It's almost automatic how it happens. We go from minimum to maximum as soon as the plane touches down. Gib had a good point that coincided with this challenge. We need to figure out our calling before we can really prioritize our resources and time. His example was concrete for me. He said as parents God calls us to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord (Eph. 6:4). So as parents our calling is to raise them in the Lord. For us that plays out a lot in the day to day moments like speaking in kindness, memorizing scriptures, reading Bible stories, addressing godly character, etc. God does not call us to make sure they are good athletes or that they have what they want or that they are in as many extracurricular events as other kids or that I'm the room mom, etc. It is clear what God calls me to as Lilly and Ava's mom and I'm grateful for the other stuff being optional. It does, however, require courage to do it and faith always leads to courage. As we moved to Haiti, the greatest sacrifice for me was not the friends, family, food, etc.; it was the time. Going has been a sacrifice of time above all for me. And it took courage to go and takes courage to stay. Whether we admit it or not, it takes a lot of courage to be faithful in the ordinary activities of daily life. For me to homeschool and kill tarantulas and ride through Port Au Prince traffic all takes a courage that I was unfamiliar with and my response has been a monumental growth curve in faithfulness. Obedience is a courage issue. And we need encouragement in it. Encouragement is putting courage into. We are to put courage into one another with our words and actions. Gib ended with saying that your calling is not your preferred future (I choked on my coffee when he said that). Life in Haiti wasn't my preferred future but it certainly is what God has called me to and it is a gift of time to God, and an opportunity if any, to live courageously by being faithful to God in the ordinary activities of life. Are you giving God your time and are you courageous to give up what isn't necessary to live out the calling he has given you?

The SONlight

Spring Island 

Good friends!

Julia gave Lilly her guitar ... so fun to see them playing together.

Chesapeake, VA

Purcelville, VA ... old friends, good times 

Christmas morning!

It's Christmas morning. I wake up to sunlight shining through the window and I think it's SONlight. It is the first light.  I love waking to a quiet house and thinking that the birthday that saved us all is today. The girls are excited about gifts but they know the gift is really Jesus and he is the one who gives. Last night was a gift too. Church. It was in English. It was familiar. It was all glory to God. I look over and two girls are in two laps that aren't ours. Grandparents soaking in the love on their laps. It was lights and songs and a filled up soul. The Christmas Eve service is my favorite. 

The night before was a service of a different sort. I saw long stretches of highways in the wee hours of the morning while the rest of my crew slept. We traded off when his eyelids were too heavy to open. I plugged in the Christmas music and settled with the God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemens and O Come All Ye Faithfuls. It was quiet, relaxing and hours of thinking. 

We made it through the sleet and rain but no sun shone at daybreak. The clouds hovered over and the girls woke up slowly. First the big little opens her eyes and manages to whisper out "how long?" Gran'Mary's is just around the corner. We were leaving good friends for good family. 

The last few days were spent in Virginia. First we stopped in Chesapeake to see Great Bridge's Haiti team and some friends of 2014. We met Sandi at the church where she was handling her share of hand bells. Something my girls had never seen -- a music made with a group of bells ringing in just the right order. We see Barry and met the preacher. It feels good to be welcomed. It was a weekend of welcoming. Cold weather, cups of tea and lots of Haiti talk. Our common bond. Our love for the people and plans for the future. Our girls spent the day with their girls. One of mine and one of theirs strumming all day for a performance that night. A guitar in common. Months ago theirs gave mine a guitar and now they are two girls who love the same little instrument. We spoke Sunday morning of the stories that unite us and them and the dark-skinned people who have brought us together and don't even know it. We share that we always go to impact and we come back impacted ourselves. Gratitude rings in my head. So thankful for the faces of the congregation who are sending and supporting. I receive an envelope afterwards with a number of bills turned over and sealed in. We find ourselves blessed again. No merit. Just a gift. Hard to receive over and over. But then we have the opportunity to buy lunch for friends and the bills are out of the envelope and around a table. The blessing continues. 

We take a trip farther north. One in which we've been longing for. Our friends are at the other end of the GPS. We chat, read, play with the girls all buckled in car seats and confined to what's within reach. School on the road a few pages at a time and just after dark we turn a corner. The farm before us and the friends we've been waiting to embrace.

The next 48 hours were bliss. It started with sitting around the table holding hands with several friends and blessing the food. I choked during the blessing. Warm tears so ready to spill over with joy. The book Bread and Wine came to mind -- the stories of all of us right there at the table. Good friends, good food, good times. We lingered over the table and the ins and outs of the year. Rebecca and Blake corral their two and head for bed. I hated to see them walk out the door. Friends in our lives and back out through the door. Cups of tea, catching up and smiling between bites of some of the best farm to table food we've put in our mouths. Our kids played with their kids and we had whole conversations. Scott and Kelley moved out to the farm this past summer. An old stone house from the 1700s and barns, land and a long list of ideas. Charles and Scott talk long hours over lengthy walks on the property and cups of hot coffee on cold days. Kelley and I make apple butter and spend waking hours blinking to make sure it was real. Kids line up at the counter making cookies. The red head points to the big one and says it's a star. But not the star, it's the star. The star of Bethlehem. The kids get it. Kelley's mom reads the little ones books and resting with them at nap time. We stay up late nights moving from the table to the couch and discussing the dreams of the farm and the life we live in Haiti. The morning comes early because our Ava wakes with tears of ear pain. It lasts through the night. I feel relieved when the light peaks through and I'm up to run with Rebecca. Through the country roads we talk about our journeys. Kelley's back in the kitchen with the smell of bacon and eggs on the griddle. Not too long after we are in urgent care for an ear ache that is treated quickly and with little effort. The day goes quick and we try to extend the hours but can't.

Charles and Scott pack the car in the barn and we all hold hands in prayer around the table one more time. The apartment smells like roasted chicken and fresh carrots. We pray for nourishment and time together sooner than later. We hug and promise to be back. The long car ride starts just after dinner when the girls settle in and Charles and I start conversing about new ideas. I see a sparkle in his eye that I have been praying for and have missed lately. I hear second-hand some passions that just came to the surface. Some new answers and hopes for Haiti. Farming ideas for Haiti. I think of my prayers and know God's been at work answering them. I replay that sparkle in his eye and thank God over and over for beginnings and ends and answered prayers. Gardens here and there and new life between. I feel more faith, more trust, more relief all rising up in me. My heart is full like a glass of water at the sink overflowing because no one turned the faucet off. It just keeps overflowing. The long dark hours turn into light hours and we're back in time for more bacon and eggs.

Christmas day comes with ease and at a slow pace. Opening presents and drinking coffee. No rush. Nothing's opened today. A run. A nap. A lot of pieces of a lot of presents scattered about and a new baby to hold and cuddle. Turkey in the oven and the table set. Two little girls scootering through the neighborhood on sparkly scooters. Mom gives us a conversational game to play with daughters and we discuss highlights and memories. Charles talks to family on the phone about new things that excite him and some major game changing events in our lives. It's an easy, celebratory kind of day. Feeling grateful. It's Jesus' birthday. One to celebrate with the ones we love. 

Better than Expected

Being on an island with no cell service is nothing short of magical except for the fact we've been waiting all week for test results. After a frustrating exchange of voicemails, I finally heard back from the GI specialist yesterday regarding Ava.

The bottom line is that "it was better than expected." According to the doctor's nurse, the biopsy results showed no sign of allergies or abnormalities. Her gut has been compromised by all of the infections this year but it will heal itself with time. She said Celiac Disease has a very particular presentation under a microscope and the tests showed she has no signs of Celiac Disease (which is consistent with the results of the blood work). Basically, the tests ruled out even more potential diagnosis, but did not show any definitive answers. Even though we know that she does not have Celiac Disease, we will be starting her on a gluten free diet and keeping a detailed food journal in order to track her episodes and to hopefully provide her with a little relief. The doctor agreed that a gluten free diet, while not necessary, could help give her some intestinal relief and possibly identify other sensitivities. The tests ruled out lactose intolerance and peanuts allergies as well.

I was encouraged by my conversation with Jamie, Dr. Rippel's nurse, yesterday as the conversation ended with her saying, "Let's be best friends these next few weeks and keep in very close touch so we can get her to the point of the best she can be." It's always positive when a medical staff treating your child advocates and continues to seek answers on your behalf. I had to laugh too when she said "we're going to get to the bottom of this" ... after her lower endoscopy. Ha!

The next step is two sets of stool samples and more tests at Le Bonheur in Memphis the week following Christmas. We hope to find answers for what is going on with her and are confident she will be restored to full health.

The good news in all this is that she has been healthier in the last two weeks other than occasional stomach aches than the past seven months. Praise Jesus!

Please continue lifting our little Aves up in prayer as we search for answers! Thank you for standing in the gap for us and interceding on our behalf. Your prayers are encouraging.

Last night a lady asked me what keeps you going and I said two major things ...

1) I can't afford to forget or dismiss all that God has done for me, what God is doing in my life now and all the promises he has made to me regarding the future.

2) I can't afford to be anything but thankful.

Prayers like Paul

 It is a long year of reading through the Old Testament for 9 months. I turn the corner around September and I enjoy the last few months of the year in the New Testament. I am savoring all of Paul's exhortations for the last few months. This week has been no exception. This morning I read this and have been thinking about it ever since.

Colossians 1:9-12 And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God. May you be strengthened with all power according to his glorious might for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins

First I love that Paul says he has not ceased in praying for them. How blessed they are Paul is lifting them up constantly. But not just praying vague prayers! He is praying these specifics for them.
- that you may be filled in all spiritual wisdom and understanding
- walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing him
- bear fruit in every good work
- increase in the knowledge of God

I have been making this mental list in my head as I ran through the wooded island today. Praying, like Paul, these very things ... and praying them for myself. I think wow, that's a hefty list, but I also think God is one who can do all things. I think through them ... what is it like to be filled with all spiritual wisdom and understanding? Am I missing that? I feel at a loss for what spiritual wisdom and understanding most of the time. I read the footnote at the bottom of my Bible that says walking in a manner worthy of the Lord results in:

(1) fruitfulness
(2) increased knowledge of God
(3) strength to endure
(4) thankfulness

I keep thinking if I could just fill my mind with knowledge of God and my heart with strength and thankfulness, the fruitfulness would come. I run a little farther and the name of God, Elohim, comes to me. The one that says God the Creator. I look around and see deer and a lot of Spanish moss hanging from the trees. I want the process to be over and the results apparent.

As I strive to live the life worthy of the Lord and pray for others to, I encourage you to take on the words of Paul and pray it as well.

From Haiti to Hilton Head and all the in between

Our lives lately in images ...

Yahtzee!

Looking for winter clothes!

Aves and Emmy!

We love the Fortenberry girls!

Hugs from big sister before going in for GI procedures

Before ...

After ...

Leyna!!!

Nothing like walking in to a sea of strangers and seeing a good friend ... 

Early Christmas!

Ya Ya!!

Island life ... sugary cereal at Aunt Ann's and Uncle Richard's

Hell-o Spring Island!

Homemade pasta at the Farmer's Market

A Saturday in Beaufort

A Sunday on the beach

Travels from Port Au Prince to Memphis couldn't have been smoother. A bacon cheeseburger and some grilled cheese in the Miami airport could have made the world go round. Besides locks ripped off and small gifts swiped before the first flight, we landed with all our loot and a couple of happy grandparents. The first few days on the ground in Memphis were enough to get most of the culture differences wiggled out and the transition to the life we have always known. We hit the ground running with car tag renewals, Christmas shopping, long runs, etc. We had an evening of grilled salmon followed by Yahtzee and hot chocolate way past little bedtimes with grandparents overjoyed to engage in little half-Haitian grandchildren.

There's nothing like waiting until 9pm in freezing weather to open up the storage unit only to find box to the ceiling that are labeled anything but winter clothes. Just moments later Charles mentions, Oh I think the winter clothes are at my parents' house. "Oh," I say. "Good to know." So before midnight we had pulled out tubs of sweaters, leggings, boots, and the like. My head started spinning. What fits? Where are my clothes? "Let's go to bed," I say. Alarm goes off, I jump up in the dark and remember I have to pack three suitcases of winter clothes that may or may not fit for the weekend and make it to a doctor's appointment by noon. We rush out and 30 minutes into the drive one of our little ones asks, "Are we going to have breakfast?" Shoot. I forgot breakfast. A normal omission on my own part but I at least try to feed the rest of them. I rummage through a bag and find goldfish and some granola bars. Mom failure. We arrive in time. Shoes on. School books in hand and in we go.

I look up to see a friend's face. She's here to pick up one while the other gets probed. I watch them leave hand in hand. I love my friend has children in college and has my child in hand. They are off for a good time and we're here waiting for good news. A few hours later we're walking out with some God-given scheduling and a doctor who is taking us seriously. She said, "Oh yeah, her belly is distended and she isn't absorbing nutrition like she should." Our thoughts exactly. Validation is a gift in itself. Tests tomorrow and hopefully answers.

Thursday night we get kids over to their friends' house and we hug our friends. It's a quick drop off and a whatever you wanna do about dinner kind of friendship. Five kids, four girls and a lot of giggles. We get to where we go to kick off a conference and some conversation with others around the world trying to tell the truth to those who don't know in forms of teachers, coordinators, agriculturists, etc. The night ends with picking up sleeping girls and talking about the latest happenings near and far.

Friday morning starts in the dark with an odd request to bend over and shoot glycerin inside of her for the procedure that's to come. Text starts and mom's on her way. My angel will take some meds and will sleep through the whole thing but she doesn't know it yet. The tiger gown, a new baby doll by her side, and a cartoon on the screen. She starts dozing and we get a pager until she's in recovery. She's going to be fine and as soon as I choke up I turn to Charles and tell him I'm just tired. No sleep has always equaled tired tears. We walk into recovery and she's confused, screaming. Too groggy to really scream but unable to open her eyes enough to be comforted. Charles holds her and we wait for the doctor. She refuses apple juice and fights the gown. The doctor says it's not cancer. I missed the rest of her results caught up in not knowing it could have been. It's not Chron's Disease, polyps, colonitis, ulcers, etc. What the heck is it? We have to wait for the biopsy results and go from there. More waiting. Mom meets me about that time and little one turns a corner. We put her in the car and pick up Pickle. We move carseats and change clothes, gather all the loose items and get to where we're going. I ride with my friend to a luncheon of ladies. I feel the most exhausted walking into a mansion on a golf course and handed a goblet of water. A swirl of women with pearls and high heels. Where am I? A little culture shock. I spot a really good friend and then several ladies ask about Aves. I answer questions and feel terribly, emotionally unstable like my tears may spill over at the slightest attempt at conversation of the morning. I get through a prayer meeting and find refuge in time with mom, Aunt Kim, and good ole Leyna. The afternoon is relaxing and lacking nothing. Aves is fine. No major marks and not enough to worry about at this point.

The weekend is full of luncheons and dinners, sprinkled with prayers and good conversation. Problem solving with those who know more. Close friends who hug our necks and squeeze our hands. We know. They know. We love they see us and they know our hearts. We go inside the house, decorated to the ceiling with Christmas. I hug her. She hugs me. I realize I used to avoid that hello hug and now I welcome it. I miss it. At the table with friends, no small mouths to feed or spills to clean up. What i've longed for. Deep breath. Enjoy it. Tall man who knows more than I can say in a smile hugs me and asks how I am. He stands waiting and I feel salty tears at the brim and smile back. Nothing said. No need to. I'm fine. Thankful to be surrounded by the ones who know the life of walking out of that one and into this one.

We open the door and conversation starts up with our hosts who know so much too. They offer their opinion and we feel validated by it. They know what we know. They offer encouragement and we navigate steps for improvement. Our heads don't hit the pillow until after midnight. When will I catch up on sleep.

I wake up to a text that reads "Can we meet at 8:30 instead of 9:30?" Oh no. Charles get up. We have to go. It's 8:30 now. We rush to get to the table with our friends sitting with two restless children and tall cups of coffee. It's amazingly comforting to be at the table with two good friends who have been walking with us through the narratives of Haiti life and have come alongside to lift us up. Questions are fired off, oatmeal spilled, an overpacked bakery, and an attempt at catching up face to face.

More time with friends and a long run through the hilly neighborhood. I walk back in with sweaty hair and smell roasted chicken. More friends coming over for dinner. Thank you, Mrs. Anne, for going to the trouble.

Sunday morning brings bright lights and microphones. We share tidbits of our story and hear from others around the world. Plenty of dressed up Baptists and cups of orange juice. I pass the microphone so Charles can tell it. I'm the supporter up here on stage...supporting the ministry, the farmer, the life in Haiti. We're not selling anything up on stage, just telling those listening that it doesn't take an extraordinary person to go to the other side of the world and do life. A man sitting by me says he is trying to reach a Russian people group but his parents don't know Jesus Christ. A lot of thoughts on the mission life and all it entails.

I meet Biz between houses on the road. We walk and talk. Another connection on the real level. The walk isn't too long because we head back to church. More presentations. A friend introduces us and the slides are one after the other with a handful of pictures of our everyday life. Dark faces swirled in with light ones. Girls watering gardens and mamas opening the Bible.

The week starts late on Monday morning. The only one we can think of when we haven't had the girls to wake us up. The sun is already high. A quick run, a packed suitcase and a lot of conversation on the way back to Memphis. We spend a few days seeing grandparents, problem solving, helping loved ones. The girls open Christmas presents early and squeal over guitar books and doctor kits. New baby dolls go for check ups and I hear Kum Ba Ya with acoustics from upstairs. One morning we Skype with our closest friend in Haiti. We light up seeing his face on the screen. It's good to connect with a world's difference in between. The girls are silly and smile at him. We talk updates and what we're missing and make plans to do it again.

I fill in the gaps with lunch and coffee with girlfriends. The face to face time fills my soul. It reminds me our miles apart doesn't stop our friendship. I say it's really lonely there with the girls some days and she says, "it's really lonely here too." So we slowly start finding the common ground and make mental notes of how to pray for the other. The hot tea in hand with another friend late at night is the same way. I want validation, affirmation, someone to tell me exactly what to do. The answer comes back that only God can really do that and I'm back at the beginning of the circle. No answers, more trust. We talk until our curfew.

The alarm sounds before 5 am and it's painful to be up so early. We are packed and we get in the car. Sleepy girls and a quick coffee. We're off. GPS says vacation starts in 10 hours. The trip is full of new CDs, naps, car games and lengthy conversations about our in between thoughts. I buy two books at the gas station, a first for me. Taming the Tongue for 30 days and Praying the Names of Jesus. I want to learn all of that.

We arrive on schedule and are welcomed by family and the amazing landscape of the island. Hello South Carolina. Hello Vacation. Down time at its best. I realize it's an act of mercy that our cell phones don't work on the island and down time just extended its boundaries.

Days here consist of lazy mornings, refills on coffee, long runs and naps. Yesterday the girls and I played Mouse Trap and Chinese Checkers. The old game Bed Bugs was too close to our Haiti life. We read books and played on the tree house. Our crew ended the day at Palmetto Bluff watching A Christmas Story on the big screen with a picnic and hot chocolate. Perfect vacation.

Today we're off to the Farmer's Market in Beaufort and hopefully going to decorate the perfect gingerbread house.