Some people can sleep on a plane, and some can’t, and a few people will say they sort-of can sleep, but that’s like they sort-of can breath. Either you can or you can’t. If you sort of can, then you don’t know either way, which means you don’t remember, which means you slept just fine thank you. I’m a no-sleep plane guy. If I don’t sleep across the Atlantic, I might sleep on the connecting, but that's about it. Otherwise, it’s iPods, cheap paperbacks that aren’t cheap, flight magazines and the airline-shopping magazine. Shopping in the middle of the Atlantic! This has got to be an American invention – when the people are bored, maybe they’ll spend money.
Some people however could sleep outside in a metal tent, during a Texas hailstorm. Let me introduce you to Sarah G. Sarah G., or just Sarah, is an anomaly that we are all envious of. She can sleep anywhere. Standing up, lying down, middle of a loud folk show, on a hot bus … on an airplane. She has that remarkable ability to get the rest she needs, when she needs it. This is certainly a gift I would love to have. Anne has it as well. Sarah took every opportunity to sleep - and her energy showed it. I’ve decided not to post any pictures (what was funny in Russia just seems like a cruel idea now), but know that Sarah slept everywhere she could! I still am finding sleep an elusive charecter that taunts at one moment and flees the next.
Now that we are three days back in the U.S., I truly am jealous. I have not slept well since we returned and I slept little while we were there. Frankly, this whole process reminds me that God designed us for activity and rest and that one depends on the other. You cannot serve our God, our risen Savior, and not spend some energy doing it. And you cannot serve without finding physical rest and spiritual rest at the end of the day. Solace is important, refuge is crucial and they both are needed in the battles that we wage, so we need to always return to our Source at the end of the day.
We’re home now and only one bag is missing (camera bag). Everyone is exhausted and still about 6 time zones short of being fully present. As we spent months preparing for this trip, I hope we will spend the rest of our lives reflecting on it. I pray that we will find rest in the One who sent us – our most loving God. May we all awaken from this past week and immediately seize every opportunity to serve! Rest now, for the harvest still waits.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
A repose of heavenly order
I love to travel. Actually, I love to be at places - I hate getting there. Planes and airports are fun, but not fun in a traveling sort of way. Good place to people watch, bad place to lounge. Tomorrow will be full of both. I do look forward to the McDonald's in the Frankfurt airport, but unless I get a free upgrade to the "able to sleep and move around" class in the front of the plane, I'll be sitting in cattle car class with the rest of civilization. Here's the good thing though, I only have one carry on and my two check-in bags are so light that I had to pack creatively so my exceptionally dirty clothes don't get all sloshed around.
We packed really well to get here. I mean, really well. Major packing achievement. But when we came, things were well packed and we had no room for anything. Returning to the states, your loosely packed, the supplies are gone, the bubbles are gone, the 12 packages of ziplock baggies are gone, the toys are gone, and it just seems like you are left with too much room in your suitcase. You're also left with too much room in your hearts.
I miss Anne and Zachary and it is now officially forbidden for anyone to talk about their family until we are actually inside the DFW airport. I even got to talk with them briefly, but I miss them. I want to be home. I want to hold them and hear her voice and his laugh. But, where we came here heavy, we're leaving awfully light.
To say the trip was a success would be unfair. How do you gauge this? Decisions for Christ? Maybe, but that's not our job nor was it the purpose. He is the Lord of the harvest, we're just workers. Did we accomplish everything? In some ways yes and in some ways no. The camps had changed so we had to improvise. Frankly, I think the improvisation worked better than what we had planned. But we loved the kids and we received profoundly high praise from the directors and from the Buckner staff. Everything that did come off, came off perfectly. Perfectly. Did we have everything we needed? Yes. Did we love every minute? Yes. Are we sad to leave, but happy to go? Yes. We're coming home and what a great trip we had. God has shone His grace upon us and I feel we wear it now like sunburn.
Instead of supplies, my suitcase now contains a few souvenirs. It also contains clothes that I really should just burn, if they'd even light. Does dirt burn? How about sweat and slobber? Instead of anticipation in my heart, now there is just a lump. A feeling to be fed or ignored depending on the moment. No, not a feeling, a reality. A reality that God is amazing. A reality that the children affect you more than you affect them. A reality that in exhaustive service, comes a worn-out tranquility.
We sleep now for only 3 or 4 hours - if we can sleep at all - before we leave for the airport at 4am. We'll close our eyes and find ourselves reflecting on kids and desiring family and familiarity. We'll sleep as servants should, and find whatever rest God will give us - a repose of heavenly order.
We packed really well to get here. I mean, really well. Major packing achievement. But when we came, things were well packed and we had no room for anything. Returning to the states, your loosely packed, the supplies are gone, the bubbles are gone, the 12 packages of ziplock baggies are gone, the toys are gone, and it just seems like you are left with too much room in your suitcase. You're also left with too much room in your hearts.
I miss Anne and Zachary and it is now officially forbidden for anyone to talk about their family until we are actually inside the DFW airport. I even got to talk with them briefly, but I miss them. I want to be home. I want to hold them and hear her voice and his laugh. But, where we came here heavy, we're leaving awfully light.
To say the trip was a success would be unfair. How do you gauge this? Decisions for Christ? Maybe, but that's not our job nor was it the purpose. He is the Lord of the harvest, we're just workers. Did we accomplish everything? In some ways yes and in some ways no. The camps had changed so we had to improvise. Frankly, I think the improvisation worked better than what we had planned. But we loved the kids and we received profoundly high praise from the directors and from the Buckner staff. Everything that did come off, came off perfectly. Perfectly. Did we have everything we needed? Yes. Did we love every minute? Yes. Are we sad to leave, but happy to go? Yes. We're coming home and what a great trip we had. God has shone His grace upon us and I feel we wear it now like sunburn.
Instead of supplies, my suitcase now contains a few souvenirs. It also contains clothes that I really should just burn, if they'd even light. Does dirt burn? How about sweat and slobber? Instead of anticipation in my heart, now there is just a lump. A feeling to be fed or ignored depending on the moment. No, not a feeling, a reality. A reality that God is amazing. A reality that the children affect you more than you affect them. A reality that in exhaustive service, comes a worn-out tranquility.
We sleep now for only 3 or 4 hours - if we can sleep at all - before we leave for the airport at 4am. We'll close our eyes and find ourselves reflecting on kids and desiring family and familiarity. We'll sleep as servants should, and find whatever rest God will give us - a repose of heavenly order.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
International language of love
I will place a post about our last day sometime later today (tonight). I will tell you this - it has been an excellent week. Excellent. Very smooth, no hitches thus far, great attitudes and hearts. We're sad, and yet excited and so very touched. But, we're also really tired. It's after midnight and last night's blog entry left me with four hours of sleep. I need more, so I can not give you as much right now. So, here is an abbreviated entry.
I realized today that we have not been entirely truthful over the past few days. We had planned a fairly typical mission trip VBS program. Break the kids up into different ages, have three or four workers in each, let them do the entire program, blah, blah, blah. But, we have not done that this time. The reason was because again, nothing survives first contact with reality.
We arrived at camp #14 - the older kids - and were told the ages of the kids were different than we had been told. So, we had to break our four static groups into three rotating groups. Because they had such good facilities, the sports rotation was always on the soccer field, the Bible study either outside (weather permitting) or in the chow hall, and the crafts were at a couple of pavilions and pic-nic tables. Each met for 40 minutes and then switched.
I know, I know - 40 minutes of Bible study for kids? Am I crazy? Yes, I am, but let me say this - it worked. Within the Bible study time, we had a number of activities to keep the lesson going. The sports always worked and they ate the crafts up. T-shirt painting, hair & nails for the girls, leathercrafts, frisbee decorating, etc. The kids loved it! We arrived at the camp at 10:30 (it's about 1 1/2 to 2 hours away from the hotel) and only had until 2pm (their lunch time).
So, everyday, every team member did all three things - Bible study, sports, and crafts. One of the greatest unintended results of this was the closeness between us and the kids. The director at #14 said he had never seen the kids get so bonded so fast! God is so good! Through an unintended change, God brought us all closer together.
After lunch, which was at yet another camp, but without any kids that we worked with, we would head to camp #40, but not without a great meal (it really was) and a brief devotion. We would meet on an unused soccer field and sit on the old wooden bleachers and re-charge.
When we arrived at camp 40, the kids were always still inside. We set the puppet stage up on a playground ... something that made a great puppet stage. I wish you could all see the kids react to the puppets. They would squirm and shreak and clap and it was so sweet and tender. These kids really loved the playfulness of the puppets. We had been able to get some Christian puppet skits, in Russian, and we used an Mp3 player to play them, so the kids could understand the skits. Afterwards, we would head into the areas of each age group (we were broken into four groups that only mixed at the beginning) and work with the kids.
Crayons, markers, hats, shirts, tambourines, all manner of things were made by these kids. But, they always opened with a Bible story. We had taken the Bible story, gotten permission from the publisher of a children's Bible to enlarge the Bible stories we wanted. We made enlarged color copies and changed the words from Russian to English and then laminated them. Now, they can be used over and over by the Buckner leaders that are there!
The only time this was not true was with the more challenged children. I say challenged because honestly, after the first day, we all thought they were angels. Very active angels, but angles none-the-less. With them, we just loved. Played and loved. At one point, several of us found ourselves sitting in these little chairs, all in a row, all humming songs with the children who had adopted us.
After camp 40, we would make the 90 minute or tow hour drive to dinner, and then back to the hotel for de-brief, then a shower, then bed.
I will post some more tomorrow, but I wanted you all to hear what we have been doing. You'll hear more if you are at the reflection service in a couple of Sundays so I don't wan to share too much more.
Keep checking the blog and we'll be home soon!
I realized today that we have not been entirely truthful over the past few days. We had planned a fairly typical mission trip VBS program. Break the kids up into different ages, have three or four workers in each, let them do the entire program, blah, blah, blah. But, we have not done that this time. The reason was because again, nothing survives first contact with reality.
We arrived at camp #14 - the older kids - and were told the ages of the kids were different than we had been told. So, we had to break our four static groups into three rotating groups. Because they had such good facilities, the sports rotation was always on the soccer field, the Bible study either outside (weather permitting) or in the chow hall, and the crafts were at a couple of pavilions and pic-nic tables. Each met for 40 minutes and then switched.
I know, I know - 40 minutes of Bible study for kids? Am I crazy? Yes, I am, but let me say this - it worked. Within the Bible study time, we had a number of activities to keep the lesson going. The sports always worked and they ate the crafts up. T-shirt painting, hair & nails for the girls, leathercrafts, frisbee decorating, etc. The kids loved it! We arrived at the camp at 10:30 (it's about 1 1/2 to 2 hours away from the hotel) and only had until 2pm (their lunch time).
So, everyday, every team member did all three things - Bible study, sports, and crafts. One of the greatest unintended results of this was the closeness between us and the kids. The director at #14 said he had never seen the kids get so bonded so fast! God is so good! Through an unintended change, God brought us all closer together.
After lunch, which was at yet another camp, but without any kids that we worked with, we would head to camp #40, but not without a great meal (it really was) and a brief devotion. We would meet on an unused soccer field and sit on the old wooden bleachers and re-charge.
When we arrived at camp 40, the kids were always still inside. We set the puppet stage up on a playground ... something that made a great puppet stage. I wish you could all see the kids react to the puppets. They would squirm and shreak and clap and it was so sweet and tender. These kids really loved the playfulness of the puppets. We had been able to get some Christian puppet skits, in Russian, and we used an Mp3 player to play them, so the kids could understand the skits. Afterwards, we would head into the areas of each age group (we were broken into four groups that only mixed at the beginning) and work with the kids.
Crayons, markers, hats, shirts, tambourines, all manner of things were made by these kids. But, they always opened with a Bible story. We had taken the Bible story, gotten permission from the publisher of a children's Bible to enlarge the Bible stories we wanted. We made enlarged color copies and changed the words from Russian to English and then laminated them. Now, they can be used over and over by the Buckner leaders that are there!
The only time this was not true was with the more challenged children. I say challenged because honestly, after the first day, we all thought they were angels. Very active angels, but angles none-the-less. With them, we just loved. Played and loved. At one point, several of us found ourselves sitting in these little chairs, all in a row, all humming songs with the children who had adopted us.
After camp 40, we would make the 90 minute or tow hour drive to dinner, and then back to the hotel for de-brief, then a shower, then bed.
I will post some more tomorrow, but I wanted you all to hear what we have been doing. You'll hear more if you are at the reflection service in a couple of Sundays so I don't wan to share too much more.
Keep checking the blog and we'll be home soon!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
If tomorrow never comes
I don't even like country music, but I can't get this song out of my head. I don't know the story of the song, (I don’t even like country music, and frankly find it to be an oxymoron) but the song seems to fit the mood, or at least, it will tomorrow.
I tried to warn the team. I told them of the pain involved – the challenges that they would face, but they did not listen and came to Russia anyway. Praise God. I told them that it would happen to most of them, if not all of them – that it would hurt. That it would change them. I’m talking about love. I’m talking about loving today and lamenting tomorrow.
Now, no one misses their family more than I. Maybe to the same degree, but that’s it. I miss my wife and son. But, if teleportation were possible, I’d use it tomorrow. I'd hit the button and be in my wife's arms by lunch time! It’s the last day at the camps. But, it does not exist and I'm here till God's done with us.
You see, tomorrow's the last day with the kids. It’s also the last day we’ll have a part of our hearts. It’s been an exhausting week of giving and taking. Up at 6:30, down after midnight. On your feet all day, on your back as soon as you hit your room - that is, after a brief walk and a potato (make that sauerkraut) filled pastry.
But if I could avoid tomorrow, I would. If I could wish it away, I would. Oh, I’d take all the days I could get at the orphanage, but saying goodbye to the kids does not hurt as much as it removes. Everyone, and I mean everyone has fallen in love with these children. Young and old, cute and slobbery – we have traded a portion of our hearts in order to love and be loved.
The older kids have opened their hearts to us, and us them. We have been captured by their actions and smiles, and their words. We don’t share much in common, but we do share some kind of humanity and the handprint that God leaves on every creation. They are creations of a divine, clever, and gracious God. They are the children of a people whom we used to call our enemy. They are beautiful.
And the younger children have left us breathless. Every lick, (yes, they lick, and yes you'd love it to) every hug, every leap, every everything makes you smile and love. These are kids with every disorder imaginable: down syndrome, fetal alcohol syndrome, CP, and so much more and all the attending problems that come with these challenges. But, they all have smiles. Great big ones and they squeal and clap when they see the puppets, and they chase you around wanting to be held, and you laugh when they jump on you and they laugh when you tell them not to dig through your pockets, and they smile when you leave and you cry when you walk away and you love it. They re amazing. They are God's chosen vessels to communicate grace and you are His chosen vessels to communicate love and when these two heavenly aspects meet, then the wind blows and the sun shines because the earth seems to somehow react to God's smile.
But, please pray for us tomorrow. From 1:30am Texas time until 9am Texas time, we will be with the kids in heart and soul. We will teach, play, and talk with them. We will love them and they will love us. We will embrace them and they us. It will be a hard day of goodbyes - of wondering what will happen to them. It will be a day of celebrating the fact that no one is an orphan who chooses to follow Christ and we will spend considerable time communicating this in all that we do.
Tomorrow is the last day of scattering seed, but the first day of a brand new harvest. Pray that the kids will see Christ for who He is, and will recognize the love that is there in Jesus and will turn their face towards Him. Pray that we'll be able to work through the tears and the joy. Just pray.
The week has been remarkable. The compliments from the stateside Buckner personnel and the workers at the camps have been gracious and encouraging. The director of the older camp recognized that the kids bonded with us very quickly and that they are usually not those kinds of kids, but you know what? He is that kind of God.
I tried to warn the team. I told them of the pain involved – the challenges that they would face, but they did not listen and came to Russia anyway. Praise God. I told them that it would happen to most of them, if not all of them – that it would hurt. That it would change them. I’m talking about love. I’m talking about loving today and lamenting tomorrow.
Now, no one misses their family more than I. Maybe to the same degree, but that’s it. I miss my wife and son. But, if teleportation were possible, I’d use it tomorrow. I'd hit the button and be in my wife's arms by lunch time! It’s the last day at the camps. But, it does not exist and I'm here till God's done with us.
You see, tomorrow's the last day with the kids. It’s also the last day we’ll have a part of our hearts. It’s been an exhausting week of giving and taking. Up at 6:30, down after midnight. On your feet all day, on your back as soon as you hit your room - that is, after a brief walk and a potato (make that sauerkraut) filled pastry.
But if I could avoid tomorrow, I would. If I could wish it away, I would. Oh, I’d take all the days I could get at the orphanage, but saying goodbye to the kids does not hurt as much as it removes. Everyone, and I mean everyone has fallen in love with these children. Young and old, cute and slobbery – we have traded a portion of our hearts in order to love and be loved.
The older kids have opened their hearts to us, and us them. We have been captured by their actions and smiles, and their words. We don’t share much in common, but we do share some kind of humanity and the handprint that God leaves on every creation. They are creations of a divine, clever, and gracious God. They are the children of a people whom we used to call our enemy. They are beautiful.
And the younger children have left us breathless. Every lick, (yes, they lick, and yes you'd love it to) every hug, every leap, every everything makes you smile and love. These are kids with every disorder imaginable: down syndrome, fetal alcohol syndrome, CP, and so much more and all the attending problems that come with these challenges. But, they all have smiles. Great big ones and they squeal and clap when they see the puppets, and they chase you around wanting to be held, and you laugh when they jump on you and they laugh when you tell them not to dig through your pockets, and they smile when you leave and you cry when you walk away and you love it. They re amazing. They are God's chosen vessels to communicate grace and you are His chosen vessels to communicate love and when these two heavenly aspects meet, then the wind blows and the sun shines because the earth seems to somehow react to God's smile.
But, please pray for us tomorrow. From 1:30am Texas time until 9am Texas time, we will be with the kids in heart and soul. We will teach, play, and talk with them. We will love them and they will love us. We will embrace them and they us. It will be a hard day of goodbyes - of wondering what will happen to them. It will be a day of celebrating the fact that no one is an orphan who chooses to follow Christ and we will spend considerable time communicating this in all that we do.
Tomorrow is the last day of scattering seed, but the first day of a brand new harvest. Pray that the kids will see Christ for who He is, and will recognize the love that is there in Jesus and will turn their face towards Him. Pray that we'll be able to work through the tears and the joy. Just pray.
The week has been remarkable. The compliments from the stateside Buckner personnel and the workers at the camps have been gracious and encouraging. The director of the older camp recognized that the kids bonded with us very quickly and that they are usually not those kinds of kids, but you know what? He is that kind of God.
Kostia
It's interesting the first thing that pops in your head during intense or dramatic moments. I'm one of those guys that's a little hyper kinetic. This is a really cool way of saying I think too much, which is obvious because for me thinking leads to writing or talking and I do that too much as well. See what I mean? A lover of commas, and a hater of periods. I hate periods. Give me commas or just give me an ending.
That's how today was - a long run of commas. It was awesome, fantastic, uneventful (in the positive way), tender, intense, penetrating, soft, touching, kissable, slobbery, lifting, funny, and quite penetrating.
Kostia was one of the kids we had two years ago. I believe I mentioned him before, but I think I misspelled his name. Of course, his name is Russian, so you truly can’t spell it correctly in English, but you know what I mean. Kostia would be described as a challenge by his mother, and something far less polite by a teacher. Tough kid – and that’s being polite.
A met another Kostia today. Taller than the other, smiles more, and fare more engaging. He smiles and you walk towards him. Natural leader in a way that is annoying for those of us that sometimes have to work at it. I talked to this new Kostia today and realized – he’s the same kid. If you don’t know what God can do with a life, buy a ticket and head over here and I’ll introduce you to this guy. What a wonderful experience.
I was at the craft table where the boys were making t-shirts. Now this is something that they did two years ago and loved. Lots of football jerseys (Arsenal, not Cowboys kind of football) lots of bands, but Kostia made a t-shirt with a smiling character on the back. Wow. A smiling character? Kostia? I don’t think I ever saw his teeth last time and now he puts this simple face on the back of a t-shirt. This was remarkable to say the least but the next thing he did was just painful – and embarrassing. He stood up from the table and turned to me and said something. Since my Russian only includes hello, goodbye, and a few phrases that center around Coca-Cola and bathrooms, I naturally turned to the closest translator to see if Kostia's daytime sport of communicating with a single up-turned finger was back. It wasn’t.
“Do you want this?” He asked. “Do I want what?” I asked like a stunned moron. “He’s asking if you want the t-shirt?” “What t-shirt?” I repeated. As I looked at the translator, I saw her smile. Then I saw his. Then the physical, physical sensation of my heartbeat. He was holding it up, grinning like the beautifully handsome boy he is, holding it out to me. Before I could think, I snatched it out of his hand as if it was the McDonald’s French fries that keep appearing in my dreams. I clutched it, looked at it, and then just stood there dumbfounded. He smiled bigger and then indicated that he wanted me to put it on. This is when I smiled.
It was a medium. An adult medium, but still only fit for my thigh or my wife. No way I was getting into that t-shirt. I told him this, but then I said, “My son could wear it!” It’s probably longer than Zachary, but wear it he will and soon. He took it back, and before I could say anything he had laid it out and began adding to it. A sun on the front of the shirt appeared. It was smiling too.
That's how today was - a long run of commas. It was awesome, fantastic, uneventful (in the positive way), tender, intense, penetrating, soft, touching, kissable, slobbery, lifting, funny, and quite penetrating.
Kostia was one of the kids we had two years ago. I believe I mentioned him before, but I think I misspelled his name. Of course, his name is Russian, so you truly can’t spell it correctly in English, but you know what I mean. Kostia would be described as a challenge by his mother, and something far less polite by a teacher. Tough kid – and that’s being polite.
A met another Kostia today. Taller than the other, smiles more, and fare more engaging. He smiles and you walk towards him. Natural leader in a way that is annoying for those of us that sometimes have to work at it. I talked to this new Kostia today and realized – he’s the same kid. If you don’t know what God can do with a life, buy a ticket and head over here and I’ll introduce you to this guy. What a wonderful experience.
I was at the craft table where the boys were making t-shirts. Now this is something that they did two years ago and loved. Lots of football jerseys (Arsenal, not Cowboys kind of football) lots of bands, but Kostia made a t-shirt with a smiling character on the back. Wow. A smiling character? Kostia? I don’t think I ever saw his teeth last time and now he puts this simple face on the back of a t-shirt. This was remarkable to say the least but the next thing he did was just painful – and embarrassing. He stood up from the table and turned to me and said something. Since my Russian only includes hello, goodbye, and a few phrases that center around Coca-Cola and bathrooms, I naturally turned to the closest translator to see if Kostia's daytime sport of communicating with a single up-turned finger was back. It wasn’t.
“Do you want this?” He asked. “Do I want what?” I asked like a stunned moron. “He’s asking if you want the t-shirt?” “What t-shirt?” I repeated. As I looked at the translator, I saw her smile. Then I saw his. Then the physical, physical sensation of my heartbeat. He was holding it up, grinning like the beautifully handsome boy he is, holding it out to me. Before I could think, I snatched it out of his hand as if it was the McDonald’s French fries that keep appearing in my dreams. I clutched it, looked at it, and then just stood there dumbfounded. He smiled bigger and then indicated that he wanted me to put it on. This is when I smiled.
It was a medium. An adult medium, but still only fit for my thigh or my wife. No way I was getting into that t-shirt. I told him this, but then I said, “My son could wear it!” It’s probably longer than Zachary, but wear it he will and soon. He took it back, and before I could say anything he had laid it out and began adding to it. A sun on the front of the shirt appeared. It was smiling too.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Flex & Obey
First of all - baby, call me! I need to hear your voice and although I can receive calls, I can't seem to make any! I also can't seem to be able to check email. Just remember it's 9 hours ahead here! Now that I have said that ...
If you start humming a familiar hymn, you're right on the money. First of all, this entry is a day late because yesterday, I could not find the power plug to the Mac because it had been mistakenly placed into a suitcase that was locked in a building at an orphanage on the Gulf of Finland. Part of me wanted to file the insurance claim just so I could have the joy of explaining how it had been lost while transporting 60 miniature barking dogs to orphans on the Gulf Of Finland!
What a remarkable experience. I have the awesome and unique privilege of watching a group of people go through a metamorphosis. My prayers have been answered in so many ways. This group has, is, becoming a different form of what they thought they were. Every night we debrief the day. We do a high-low and a feelings check. I pass around an object (last night it was a bottle of bubbles, tonight it was a bottle of bug-repellent!) and whoever has it has to share their high for the day, their low for the day and then a one word feeling to describe their feelings. Tonight, it was all grins & giggles - for the most part. People expressing how wonderful it is to love and work with the kids. How smooth it is all going - how they are growing and being challenged.
Last night was a completely different story. Tears. Weeping. Sadness. Broken hearts. Even amongst those that had been here two years ago, so much has changed. Some for the better, some for the worse, and some just ... changed.
Orphanage #14 - the older kids looks like a different place. New soccer (football!) court, volleyball court & basketball court all made from a soft resin. Feels like rubber. Great to run & play on. Buildings have fresher paint, but most importantly, the kids are different & the director is different. He seems to genuinely love them and they are better behaved. Even one of the kids from two years ago - Kosta - has been great. Awesome smile, great spirit, great kid! What a work God has done! I'm embarrassed to say that I was stunned when we pulled up. I'll tell you more later, but know things are very different.
Then there's orphanage #40 - the younger kids. Wow. And not a good wow. Not stunned, but overwhelmed. Fewer kids at both, but where the older kids have grown, the younger ones seem ... sadder? No, that's not the right word. Just, a little less energy than last time. Very few kids are here that were here then - less than 10. And no, "Pinky" is gone and I haven't the courage to ask where she is.
The kids at 40 seem worse. But, we have been given access to some of the kids that we could not completely engage in 2006. We are working with all the kids this year - including the very sick and very severe ones. One group has kids that are the most severely handicapped. Down syndrome, fetal alcohol syndrome, CP, and other challenges are there and these kids are not only non-verbal, some of them are almost impossible to control. The first day was exceptionally hard. Tears from everyone - including me. Too many stories to tell here (it's already too long!) but I will tell you this. Rachelle, Byron, Sarah B., Brandon, Michelle, Tad and myself are working with these most challenged children. When we walked away from their area (we're being segregated more this year), we all felt as though we had survived a plane crash. Nothing worked as planned. These kids can't color, can't sing, can't follow the story - but they still love bubbles!
Anyway, so yesterday, we walked away completely spent emotionally & physically. All were weeping, and all were wondering how we would survive. Our lead translator & guide, Masha (that's Tzarina Masha) said "Perhaps we should allow the groups to rotate so they wont be so worn out?" Not a bad thought. We were shot and terrified and wondering what secret energy source might be out there to allow us to survive this week. So, I turned to this team and asked about this idea, and I've never been so proud of a group of people in my life.
EVERYONE, every single member of this group said "Absolutely not."
"These are our kids - we love them, they're ours."
"We're not leaving them!"
I looked at Masha, with tears in my eyes, and simply turned away. What fools would do this to themselves? No language connection, no way to communicate, children that exhaust you instantly (we're talking a more than two to one ratio here) none of the plans will corral or entertain them, none of us owe them anything or have even met them before, so why the dedication? What makes them our kids? The love of Christ makes them our kids. The secret energy source is God. The ability to adapt and endure (today was awesome!) is the power of the Holy Spirit.
When I turned back to Masha, I told her that the team would not leave even if I asked them to - none of them would. All of the teams (there are four of them) are equally dedicated to their group of children. All of them are, quite frankly, in love. Do I believe in love at first sight? Yes, I do. It happened between me and my wife and it happed in a small Russian wood, on the coast of the Gulf of Finland.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Disco planes
Usually, amenities on a flight like 1st class or something similarly special costs extra. But, not for us - oh no - we get stuff for free. Like disco lights for instance. You see, I have spent weeks talking to the team about my preference for this particular type of aircraft. No offense to anyone else, it just seems they give me more room for my legs. Anyway, so here we were, all checked in and ready to go, all bags on board (they all made it) and ready for a 9 hour flight across the Atlantic.
The take off goes perfect, we begin our climb-out, and then it happens. The guy gets on the mike to tell us about how long the flight is and what they'll be serving for dinner and why not to congregate at the front of the aircraft and suddenly an alarm somewhere on the aircraft goes off. "Bzzzzz-bzzzzz" and to make it even more entertaining (Sarah B. sitting beside me starts levitating off the seat repeating the phrase "I really don't like to fly. David, I really don't like flying!" Meanwhile, to this moment, we still have no idea what he said because while the guy on the mike was speaking, the speakers in our section (rows 346 & back) get all staticky (is this a word?) and then the lights start flashing. The overhead lights, the floor lights, call button light, the reading lights - all of them - start flashing on and off, at random. All of them.
Let me make sure you understand this. The lights are flashing throughout the next 7 hours. Everyone else on the flight is sleeping and for some reason I can't get the Bee-Gee's song "Shadow Dancing" out of my head. "Do it light , taking me through the night, shadow dancing ..." Meanwhile, J.J., the way-too-cute 2 year old next to me is talking up a storm and several other kids are running the aisles like they've been chewing on coffee beans.
So anyway, an hour into the light show the lady comes on the speaker to tell our section (remember, the speaker does not work, so she sounds like the teacher on the Charlie Brown cartoon) that they are having electrical problems. Electrical problems. We're approaching 20,000 feet and we're having electrical problems. So, Sarah B., who is going to kill me for writing this, asks me if the plane is okay, so I do an imitation of of someone who does not have an intelligent answer and say "Sure." She asks "Are you sure?" Well, I decided that "no" would not be an inspirational answer and decide to become the only aerodynamic electrical engineer on board and say "Yes, we'll be fine. If there was a problem, the pilot would have turned around already." "Oh, okay" she said. So then someone says, "Why don't they just turn off a breaker?" Good one. We're on an airplane and you want to start throwing breakers. If their breaker board (do planes even have breakers?) is anything like mine at home then it is not labeled correctly and we'd start loosing important things like the engines or even the coffee pot.
"... Give me more, drag me across the floor ... Shadow dancing , all this and nothing more...", "I don't LIKE flying! David, I really don't like to fly ..." I look up, as much as I can, to see if there is a sign that this will end anytime soon and I see the TV screen and it says we only have 8 hours left to our destination. 8 hours ...
8 hours later ....
Sarah slept, and so did J.J. and his mom, who was truly exhausted. The plane was fine, I have an amazing group of people to spend a week with, my wife and child love me, I serve an awesome God, and I just missed a 7 hour long opportunity to ponder on all of this.
Bottom line? If something is keeping you awake, go fix it. If someone is keeping you awake, go talk to them. Don't assume that it is an odd act of fate. Assume it's a loving God desiring a conversation. Once we arrived in Frankfurt, Germany, I fell asleep lying on the floor in the terminal. Once on the plane to St. Petersburg, I fell asleep before we took off.
Talk to God and give Him the opportunity to talk back. Enjoy the quirkiness of life and chase after opportunities. We're here. We're safe. And tomorrow, we'll be taking the love of God into orphanages. Isn't God great!
The take off goes perfect, we begin our climb-out, and then it happens. The guy gets on the mike to tell us about how long the flight is and what they'll be serving for dinner and why not to congregate at the front of the aircraft and suddenly an alarm somewhere on the aircraft goes off. "Bzzzzz-bzzzzz" and to make it even more entertaining (Sarah B. sitting beside me starts levitating off the seat repeating the phrase "I really don't like to fly. David, I really don't like flying!" Meanwhile, to this moment, we still have no idea what he said because while the guy on the mike was speaking, the speakers in our section (rows 346 & back) get all staticky (is this a word?) and then the lights start flashing. The overhead lights, the floor lights, call button light, the reading lights - all of them - start flashing on and off, at random. All of them.
Let me make sure you understand this. The lights are flashing throughout the next 7 hours. Everyone else on the flight is sleeping and for some reason I can't get the Bee-Gee's song "Shadow Dancing" out of my head. "Do it light , taking me through the night, shadow dancing ..." Meanwhile, J.J., the way-too-cute 2 year old next to me is talking up a storm and several other kids are running the aisles like they've been chewing on coffee beans.
So anyway, an hour into the light show the lady comes on the speaker to tell our section (remember, the speaker does not work, so she sounds like the teacher on the Charlie Brown cartoon) that they are having electrical problems. Electrical problems. We're approaching 20,000 feet and we're having electrical problems. So, Sarah B., who is going to kill me for writing this, asks me if the plane is okay, so I do an imitation of of someone who does not have an intelligent answer and say "Sure." She asks "Are you sure?" Well, I decided that "no" would not be an inspirational answer and decide to become the only aerodynamic electrical engineer on board and say "Yes, we'll be fine. If there was a problem, the pilot would have turned around already." "Oh, okay" she said. So then someone says, "Why don't they just turn off a breaker?" Good one. We're on an airplane and you want to start throwing breakers. If their breaker board (do planes even have breakers?) is anything like mine at home then it is not labeled correctly and we'd start loosing important things like the engines or even the coffee pot.
"... Give me more, drag me across the floor ... Shadow dancing , all this and nothing more...", "I don't LIKE flying! David, I really don't like to fly ..." I look up, as much as I can, to see if there is a sign that this will end anytime soon and I see the TV screen and it says we only have 8 hours left to our destination. 8 hours ...
8 hours later ....
Sarah slept, and so did J.J. and his mom, who was truly exhausted. The plane was fine, I have an amazing group of people to spend a week with, my wife and child love me, I serve an awesome God, and I just missed a 7 hour long opportunity to ponder on all of this.
Bottom line? If something is keeping you awake, go fix it. If someone is keeping you awake, go talk to them. Don't assume that it is an odd act of fate. Assume it's a loving God desiring a conversation. Once we arrived in Frankfurt, Germany, I fell asleep lying on the floor in the terminal. Once on the plane to St. Petersburg, I fell asleep before we took off.
Talk to God and give Him the opportunity to talk back. Enjoy the quirkiness of life and chase after opportunities. We're here. We're safe. And tomorrow, we'll be taking the love of God into orphanages. Isn't God great!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Feet dry
We're here! Except here is not where we thought here was. We are NOT at the hotel we believed we would be. Something or other happened and we are now at the Hotel Ibis and it is a very comfortable hotel indeed. After 36 hours of traveling, I am trying to find a way to sleep in the shower. We're in the middle of the city and at 11:30, it's still quite bright outside. White Nights indeed! All of the people made it, we hooked up with the Dallas Buckner folks and all of the luggage is here as well. Nothing lost, broken or stolen - so far as we know. We're weary and worn, but we are all heady about the days to come. Some tourism tomorrow and then Monday morning, we'll see the kids.
As usual, I did not sleep at all on the plane and so I am saving the 14 hours of flight time for tomorrow's post (my roommate is already asleep!)
We send our love to all of our families. We're here, we're safe, we're exhausted and chomping at the bit to make an impact on the life of an orphan.
God is great!
As usual, I did not sleep at all on the plane and so I am saving the 14 hours of flight time for tomorrow's post (my roommate is already asleep!)
We send our love to all of our families. We're here, we're safe, we're exhausted and chomping at the bit to make an impact on the life of an orphan.
God is great!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
T-minus ...
Bags are packed and all of them are picked up. The "Russia room" indicated by the large Russian flag hung over it, is eerily quiet. Neat piles of cardboard, plastic, paper, and aluminum are on the floor. (Even in this, we recycle!) A few items that did not make the final list are lined up on a table, ready for the next trip to leave.
Families are even now, scurrying in and out of stores buying up the last of the travel shampoo and deodorants. Last week, there was a run on the Typhoid medicines at some of the local pharmacies!
Now, it's time to pack and say goodbye. The goodbyes are not permanent unless God has something planned that is not on the itinerary, but the goodbyes are painful none-the-less. Missing your spouse, children, parents and friends is inevitable - although somewhat short lived. This kind of trip leaves only the flights as empty time. We'll leave for the camps at 7am and return around 9pm. Long days and thankfully exhaustingly restful nights.
But, there is also a "good" goodbye. This is the one you say to your old self. The self that lives for only purpose - the betterment of you. This self we can say goodbye to. Working with orphans and sharing God's love will change you. No, it will transform you. It does not matter whether you want to be changed or whether you think you need to be changed (we all need to be changed!) God has a way of entering one's life and transforming it on a viral level - and that's my prayer for the entire team. That God will miraculously and powerfully alter us. That He will change our spiritual DNA. That we will say goodbye to our loved ones and to ourselves and return ... changed. That God will rewrite our priorities for us and write them upon our souls. That we will bear scars of the transformation and will be loud with our exhortation of His Grace.
God - change us all to be more like you and less like ourselves.
Next stop - Russia!
Families are even now, scurrying in and out of stores buying up the last of the travel shampoo and deodorants. Last week, there was a run on the Typhoid medicines at some of the local pharmacies!
Now, it's time to pack and say goodbye. The goodbyes are not permanent unless God has something planned that is not on the itinerary, but the goodbyes are painful none-the-less. Missing your spouse, children, parents and friends is inevitable - although somewhat short lived. This kind of trip leaves only the flights as empty time. We'll leave for the camps at 7am and return around 9pm. Long days and thankfully exhaustingly restful nights.
But, there is also a "good" goodbye. This is the one you say to your old self. The self that lives for only purpose - the betterment of you. This self we can say goodbye to. Working with orphans and sharing God's love will change you. No, it will transform you. It does not matter whether you want to be changed or whether you think you need to be changed (we all need to be changed!) God has a way of entering one's life and transforming it on a viral level - and that's my prayer for the entire team. That God will miraculously and powerfully alter us. That He will change our spiritual DNA. That we will say goodbye to our loved ones and to ourselves and return ... changed. That God will rewrite our priorities for us and write them upon our souls. That we will bear scars of the transformation and will be loud with our exhortation of His Grace.
God - change us all to be more like you and less like ourselves.
Next stop - Russia!
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
What's so charming about the third time?
Third time. Third time we have unzipped, shuffled, re-packed, jettisoned what is not needed, added things that needed to be added, retyped, re-printed and re-zipped up 14 duffel bags.
God must have some great things planned because truly, we have had to re-do and re-think what we're doing. But, you know what I am already seeing? All the folks that are going have said that they are willing to leave personal things out, pack less clothes, take fewer travel gadgets, in order to get all the gear there. Personal bags, instead of containing personal items, now contain soap and clothes for orphans. Instead of that extra pair of shoes, they contain dental kits. Instead of gadgets for us, they contain toys for them.
So maybe now these 14 duffel bags really do contain personal items - because it's now a personal matter to see the lives of orphans impacted in the name of God.
Amen.
God must have some great things planned because truly, we have had to re-do and re-think what we're doing. But, you know what I am already seeing? All the folks that are going have said that they are willing to leave personal things out, pack less clothes, take fewer travel gadgets, in order to get all the gear there. Personal bags, instead of containing personal items, now contain soap and clothes for orphans. Instead of that extra pair of shoes, they contain dental kits. Instead of gadgets for us, they contain toys for them.
So maybe now these 14 duffel bags really do contain personal items - because it's now a personal matter to see the lives of orphans impacted in the name of God.
Amen.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
No plan ever survives first contact with reality
I often wonder what the world would look like had Adam and Eve not eaten the fruit. But, then I realize that sooner or later, someone would have gotten curious, taken the bite, and we'd be where we are now. Regardless, God gave His greatest creation, man, the freedom of choice. We can choose how we act or react towards things. This is a great freedom and the one most often either abused or misused or just not used at all.
Sometimes, however, things happen that have little to do with our choice, and a lot to do with God's supreme inevitability. One of our team members has had to step out of the trip because a heart cath found some pretty severe blockage. He found this out on Monday, June 30th, and on Wednesday, July 2nd, he had a multiple by-pass surgery. He and his wife will not be going to Russia!
What this reminded me of is this: God has a plan. God allowed this team member, and his wife, to be fully healthy during the months of planning & preparation. God allowed them to contribute time and resources to make this trip a success and God allowed him to come out of a successful surgery with his wife at his side. What would have happened had something happened overseas? Who knows, God took care of it. Our plans rarely go the way we plan. God's reality is always jumping in, rearranging what we planned.
But, do you know what the great thing is? Our plan should be God's plan in the first place. In my life, God has always given me a compass, but never a map. You know why? Because He knows I'll try and take a short cut to wherever it is He is leading me to go. We'll miss these team members and as much as I hate that they can't go, I hate that he is having surgery even more. But, I love that the God we served allowed them to be such principle parts in the preparation. I love that he is recovering well, I love that one of the last things he said to me was "I'm sorry I can't go!" In all that we do, we should seek to serve the God who created us. It's not our life and it's not our plan.
Eugene & Colleen, we'll miss you not being in Russia with us, but thank you so much for all of your hard work and your dedication to the orphans and this team! You'll be missed and although I know your bodies are not going, I know your heart is already there.
Sometimes, however, things happen that have little to do with our choice, and a lot to do with God's supreme inevitability. One of our team members has had to step out of the trip because a heart cath found some pretty severe blockage. He found this out on Monday, June 30th, and on Wednesday, July 2nd, he had a multiple by-pass surgery. He and his wife will not be going to Russia!
What this reminded me of is this: God has a plan. God allowed this team member, and his wife, to be fully healthy during the months of planning & preparation. God allowed them to contribute time and resources to make this trip a success and God allowed him to come out of a successful surgery with his wife at his side. What would have happened had something happened overseas? Who knows, God took care of it. Our plans rarely go the way we plan. God's reality is always jumping in, rearranging what we planned.
But, do you know what the great thing is? Our plan should be God's plan in the first place. In my life, God has always given me a compass, but never a map. You know why? Because He knows I'll try and take a short cut to wherever it is He is leading me to go. We'll miss these team members and as much as I hate that they can't go, I hate that he is having surgery even more. But, I love that the God we served allowed them to be such principle parts in the preparation. I love that he is recovering well, I love that one of the last things he said to me was "I'm sorry I can't go!" In all that we do, we should seek to serve the God who created us. It's not our life and it's not our plan.
Eugene & Colleen, we'll miss you not being in Russia with us, but thank you so much for all of your hard work and your dedication to the orphans and this team! You'll be missed and although I know your bodies are not going, I know your heart is already there.
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