doors: January 2013

A year ago today, we embarked on a crazy journey. God pushed us out way past where we thought we could go, on a path that He blazed, and He stayed with us every s t e p of the way; constantly loving us and continuing to show us that He is greater than everything this world has to offer.

I look at our boys and I get giddy when I watch them talk about their futures and dreams and plans. I don’t worry about what they are going to “do.” I know that whatever they do they will do with great PATIENCE, great PASSION, great JOY, and great LOVE; and that’s because of who they have b e c o m e, not because of what they have done. It’s because every day they are surrendering to being transformed more and more into the likeness of this Wild Creator. Every time they lay down that piece of loneliness, or knock down the walls that they build in protecting themselves physically and spiritually on the street, or surrender the anger they harbor at being abandoned by parents that were supposed to love them, and refuse to believe every person that ever told them they would never amount to anything; they are giving God more room in their hearts to LOVE them.

I know they’re going to DO great things, but it’s because of the CHILDREN of God that they have became.

I got home Sunday night, and I stepped off the plane and the heat smacked me in the face and all I could do was smile (and take off my wool socks). I about knocked people over trying to get through the crowd and into the immigration line, where I filled out the messiest immigration card the official has probably ever seen. I was gearing up to fight through the masses to get through to the baggage, but I saw my bags conveniently placed off to the side, having arrived on the earlier flight to Uganda.

I’m pretty sure I was the first person through the double doors to the pick-up side. There were 8 sleepy children and four beautiful friends waiting on the other side. We got home at 2 am and I sat around with Alena and Angela and they ate American goodies and we talked. I fell asleep at 6 am that morning, apparently I’m better at sleeping in airports than I thought. I woke up at 2 PM! ! ! I was shocked. Our house is never, ever this quiet. I didn’t even think the boys were home. I’m thankful for that courtesy as my alarm was set this morning to get back into the swing of things.

Today we worked on a puzzle for two hours.

They chased me with a dead rat.

We did cartwheels in the front yard.

Uncle David locked 5 of the boys in the guard house.

A water fight broke out.

We revisited the puzzle for another hour.

Two spontaneous worship sessions broke out.

An intense game of netball was battled out over the laundry line between the two houses.

We played Uno and spoons.

They opened water guns from my parents and I really don’t have words to describe the ensuing water gun fight.

And I looked at Sam today as he was teasing me and I thought “You’re such a turd.”

That’s me being transparent about the first thought that really popped in my head. Of course, I meant it the most loving way that you can call somebody a turd.

My next thought was ‘more Christian,’ don’t judge me and stop reading now.

I thought, “I wish I was half the person at your age that you are now.”

I have huge expectations for these kids.

Expectations for apologies and peace, for vulnerability when we need prayer, for worshipping with all of our lives, for accountability when we are struggling and acting ugly, and for LOVING ridiculous amounts and letting ourselves be LOVED even more than we love.

And I am so proud to say that we have many not-so-perfect children, who have many turd moments every day and battle with all kinds of struggles, BUT are quick to surrender, long-lasting in praying, believing the impossible, and calling Daddy God their own.

That’s why in between the arguments about whose day it is to do the dishes and being tattle tales, you can hear something beautiful.

You can hear Emma stopping the UNO game because when I said, “I’m requesting that you shuffle the deck,” he thought I had a prayer request and wanted everyone to pray with me.

You can hear Timothy and Fred as they are composing their newest worship song.

Well, let’s be honest, the whole neighborhood can hear us when we stop in the middle of our netball game and everyone is singing “ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh, ohh our hearts they cry, be glorified, we will shout for your praise”

And I can sit in my bathroom at night under the window with a candle and listen to Ivan praying from his bedroom; thanking God for our home, listening to him list off every uncle and aunt that lives in this place, asking God to continue to bless us, and then praising God for who He is.