Interesting

I am getting really tired of going to various doctors, and being the delight of their day because I offer some strange and exotic condition. It all started when we arrived home from Uganda, and I couldn't seem to shake that malaria. So I go to my family doctor, and after speaking to me at length and asking like a million questions he says, "This is very interesting. Now I have to figure out what to do with you." Nice huh? So he sends me to this wonderful infectious disease doctor, who happens to be from India, and a malaria expert. She tells me, "This is fascinating I never GET to deal with this kind of thing around here." Get to? Well, I am at your service ma'am, any other illness I can contract for you? I have this thing...for lack of a better word on my eye. It has been there since we got home from Africa. It is this small clear spot on my eye. I touched it with tweezers (oh, come on, you know you would have touched too), it's kind of resembles a popcorn hull...only smaller and clear. Lately it has been really red. I have been walking around looking like I am either incredibly intoxicated or depressed. So I finally went to the eye doctor yesterday. There I am sitting in her little chair with my head pushed up against that stupid machine, while she shines her light in my eyes. She says, "Huh, that's interesting, you have one on this eye too, but it is not red like the other one." There is that word again, interesting. Couldn't she just tell me I have pink eye or something simple like that? Then she tells me she is pretty sure it is just some sort of infection, writes me a prescription for some steroid/antibiotic/anti-inflammatory eye gel, and sends me on my way. I told Richard last night, if some African worms come crawling out of my eyes...I may never emotionally recover. He just loves my worst case scenario outlook on life.

This case of being interesting is even happening to my daughter. I had called to speak with the school district about a speech evaluation for Marissa. She does this thing, where she turns her tongue upside down when she talks. So the good doctor calls me back and says "This case is just fascinating, I would love to meet with you today or Thursday."

Yep, that's us... one interesting and fascinating family.

Holding On

In Uganda, while at Welcome Home, I had some of the most heart rending experiences. I have never before felt so heartbroken, torn, and helpless. There we were, thrilled to have our children with us. Studying them, trying to memorize every detail about them. They were desperately wanting us to give all our attention and snuggles to only them. How could I focus on them alone, when we were surrounding with tiny little children longing to be held, to be loved on. The heartbreaking cry of children calling out "mommy" to me, with arms outstretched was more than I could bear. I wanted to hold them all. Tell them that I loved them. Tell them it was going to be all right. One little girl in particular has been burned into my mind. Her name is Amanda. This sweet precious baby, would wrap her legs around me as tight as she could, clinging to me. She would cry and scream if I tried to put her down. I didn't want to put her down. I didn't want to walk out of there and leave 50+ other children with out families. I wanted to make sure all of them had a real mommy and daddy they could cling to. I wanted them all to know a mommy and daddy loved them beyond anything they could ever imagine. I couldn't do any of that. All I could do, was peel a crying child off my body, place her on the ground, and with tears in my eyes, walk away. I prayed that day that this child would have a family soon. That there would be arms to hold her all day. Arms that would not have to put her down, and walk away in tears. I found out last week that prayer has been answered. She has a mommy and daddy working diligently to come and wrap their arms around her and never let go. Thank you Jesus for giving this child a family.

There are 143+ million children around this world that want a mommy and daddy to hold them. They cry alone, with no one to kiss their wounds. No one to cook their meals. No one to keep them safe. No one to take them to the doctor when they are sick. No one to encourage them. No one to laugh at their silliness. No one to help them succeed in school. No one to teach them to work. No one to teach them to about the goodness and greatness of God. They have no one to teach them what it means to be a part of a family. One day, some of these children, if they even survive to adulthood, will have families of their own. How will they parent children, when they themselves have never known the love and protection of a mother and father?

God has a perfect plan for these children. That plan is His Church. Oh, how I pray He ignites a fire within us for true religion. That these children might have what they so desperately need.

Not Me Monday

Two posts in one day? Yep that's right. It is nearly tomorrow and I still need to post my not me Monday. So with out further ado....

I did not inadvertently do a blog post in Wing Ding. That would be so embarrassing. Especially if I didn't know, because on my computer it automatically translated. That would just be crushing to my ego. No way I would do that.

I did not sit and reminisce about Uganda. I most certainly did not think about how much I missed being chased by small adorable children crying out "Mzungu, Mzungu How are you?" Missing the feeling of being adored by so many, would be a clear indicator that I need more embarrassments like blogging in Wing Ding. So I would not be doing any of that.

I did not want to stand up and give Noah a high five in Chick-Fil-A. Him putting down his chicken and politely staring back at the table of women staring at us until they resumed eating, did not make me nearly choke on my waffle fry.

I did not have immense feelings of thankfulness that Grace is always with me to answer questions the way I want to, instead of the way I have to. Like when the above mentioned women finally asked their barrage of adoption questions, which inevitably always includes, "Are they brother and sister?" I did not chuckle when she said "Yes, of course they are." after I said "no they are not biological siblings."

Lastly, I did not just sit here and worry about spelling Mzungu correctly. Can you believe that is not on spell check. Come on Blogger...what's up with that.