Sharing the Good News

This topic I've been tackling and reading about and working for passionately, this atrocity of human slavery and sexual exploitation can be so dark and disheartening and hard to swallow at times. Sometimes it makes you wonder about humanity and how we're supposed to live in light and hope. But, I keep clinging to the inspiration of the Spirit and trying to remember that this is His work. And sometimes, He mercifully reminds me of that.

So in this post I told you all about my letter writing campaign and offering to help to do what I can to combat human trafficking. I also told you about my timidity when it came to writing directly to the hotel owner whom we had befriended in San Juan del Sur to inquire about him checking in on my beautiful little friend.

Well, I think the Holy Spirit might be telling me that it's time I recognize I am not all on my own in my concern for people and that there are plenty of really good people in this seemingly dark world.

Because within minutes after swallowing my pride and taking the leap to e-mailing the hotel owner (at his info address no less, because, of course, in my procrastination I had lost the personal address he gave me), I got this response back:

I haven't thought about San Juan being a danger point for trafficking in children and minors but share your concerns.  There are educational programs extant in San Juan which alert children and adults to dangers and problems.  They have had several seminars on this subject in town and the subject is often discussed in the schools.

 

In fact, it sometimes seems my neighbors are paranoid when it comes to their children going to school because even though the school is three blocks away, only the teenagers walk with out adult supervision.  The law in Nicaragua is particularly concerned with trafficking in children and the first lady Rosario Murrillo has seen to it that the word is out with several large signs and the law has been beefed up to punish transgressor harshly.

 

I don't know if the child you identify has a minder but I will find out.  There is a net work of vendors who look out for each other and this particular child goes to Gato Negro  often and several locals buy her wares to be sure she has sales.  There are two people in particular who will be interested in her welfare and I will bring your concerns to their attention.

 

Let me know when you are coming this way again and when I have more info I'll get back to you.

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So there you have it. That's what God can do. I could never have imagined when I met that little girl on that beach that God was going to break my heart wide open for her. And then for a millions of faces I'll never see. But He did. And since then, I have tried to honor Him with the action His Spirit is prompting me to take. Even though sometimes it makes me feel a little silly and all alone in the world.

And then, He reminds me that I am not. Never, ever when I work for Him do I work alone. And when I work with Him, He always sends the right people at the right time to enliven and encourage and fulfill His plans. 

The little girl who broke my heart has someone making sure she is safe and has adequate sales to return home to safety. She is going to go to the beach to sell her sea shell creatures and go home and someone is going to make sure of that. I am going to try to figure out if there is more I can do to ensure her a safe future. 

But in the mean time, I think it only appropriate that the first real fruit I get to see from my efforts goes straight back to the heart and the start of the passion and makes a small difference for just that one beautiful little face of that beautiful little girl on the beach in Nicaragua.

Let's Offer to Help

If you want to be part of the solution in the anti-human trafficking efforts, the first thing you need to do is let people know that you are willing to help. So often we find a cause we are passionate about, see all the inspiring work others are doing, and fail to translate that into more than sentiment in our own lives. I am guilty of this as much as anyone else.

That is one reason I was totally struck and inspired when I read in Palmer Chinchen's book God Can't Sleep: Waiting for Daylight On Life's Dark Nights by his response to reading a NY Times article about the murder of albino mothers and their children in the African country of Burundi. He immediately wrote this open letter to Burundi's president:

Dear President Nkurunziza,

I write to you with a heart saddened by the tragic murder of a Burundian mother and her five year-old son.

 I write to say that these killers must be brought to justice. And I write to encourage you to pour every possible resource into protecting marginalized albinos in Burundi.

I know that you are a man of God. I know your heart is good. So I simply implore you to seek justice for the albinos of Burundi.

I write on behalf of Christians everywhere--please stop this senseless crime. I do not write to place blame or to judge; I write to encourage action.

I also write to offer the resources of every Christian in my country who cares about justice. I write to offer means to help educate a population that killing albinos in the worst kind of crime, the most senseless of crimes. Albinos, like all of us, are created by God, in His image, and they are loved and prized by God--it's just that their skin is a different color.

And only sheer ignorance would cause would cause anyone to believe that there is magic in their bones. 

I offer the resources of every Christian in America who cares about justice to help shelter and protect the albinos of Burundi.

I write to offer to partner with you to rescue those whose lives are threatened because of the color of their skin.

May God's great hand of blessing be on your life as you continue to lead with wisdom.

                                                                                                                     Respectfully,

                                                                                                                    Dr. Palmer Chinchen

Whoa. That's how we as Christians are supposed to respond to the atrocities and injustices of this world. Now, I don't necessarily think it is prudent for all of us to run off writing letters offering the help and resources of all Christians at every injustice we read about. But I do think there are very real promptings from the Holy Spirit that can make us feel spurred to immediate, passionate action and that we ignore or wait on long enough to let doubt and fear rise up and quell the spark the Spirit was igniting in our hearts. I do believe that if every Christian responded this way to just one injustice that was his/her particular passion, that we would be doing a whole world of good without any one person risking too much. And I believe our brothers and sisters would be suffering less, dying less, starving less, killing less. Because God has given us the power to stop those things in His name.

Did you ever read the beginning of the book of Acts and wonder what it felt like to be the apostles, going out in public ministry for the first time without Jesus, and to find the courage and the faith to say to the blind and the lame to see and walk? It was risky for sure. And I'm sure in their humanity they were terrified. But in faith, they believed what Jesus had said to them when He told them to do just that. And so they followed the lead of the Spirit and reached out their hands. And the power was there.

I believe the Spirit is prompting all of us Christians to hold out our hands to someone and say "walk" or "see" or "be saved" or "take and eat" or "live". And I believe there are many if us who have stood far too long with itchy, sweaty palms wondering how we can possibly be part of the solution to something so very, very big when we are so small. And when we already have so much to do. And the whole hosts of other reasons we give for not taking action.

But the bottom line is, if we are to be part of His team, we must be willing to act. I have been meditating on the first letter of St. Peter in my prayer lately. Dense that letter it is. It's taking me days to get through one small paragraph. The one I've been stuck on lately is 1 Peter : 13-16:

"So then, have your minds ready for action. Keep alert and set your hope completely on the blessing which will be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed. Be obedient to God, and do not allow your lives to  be shaped by those desires you had when you were still ignorant. Instead, be holy in all that you do, just as the God who has called you is holy."

Why was Dr. Chinchen's response to reading the NY Times to write an open letter to the President of an African nation offering his help? Because his mind has been disciplined to be ready for action. I have begged God to make me alert and ready for action. I have begged Him to give me the grace to obey His leading. I have begged Him to free from the desire for approval and notice that I am prone to be motivated by in my ignorance and brokenness and sinfulness. And I have begged to be holy. As He is holy. And in His holiness, He acts. He creates. He communes. He reaches out. He sends messengers. He sends and becomes a Savior. He battles and breathes and He breaks bread and He multiplies when there is not enough. And He heals and He binds up the broken-hearted and He dies and He rises and He rules. This is the holiness of our God. The God of action. Because God is love and love acts and risks and is rejected and, when least accepted, opens a door for hearts to turn to Him.

So this week, I am taking a few risks and some action. I don't where this will lead me. I just know it is what the Spirit is leading me to do. If it goes out and never comes back, so be it. God is in that abyss. If it spirals into something big and beautiful and overwhelming, so be it. God is in that chaos.

This week, I either have already or am writing letters to people -- important people -- to let them know that I want to part of the solution to human trafficking and that I am ready to help with my time, my energy and my passion. Here's my list:

• The Code: This is a code of conduct for the tourism sector to avoid engaging in business practices that promote trafficking. I think responsibility among the tourism sector is a big part of the solution here in Costa Rica. I have written to ask how I can be part of that work here.
• Costa Rica's President Laura Chincilla: I used Dr. Chinchen's letter as a model to write the President and encourage continued action to end trafficking in Costa Rica, keep traffickers out of the country and provide programs to rehabilitate victims and reduce vulnerability. I offered my help in whatever capacity it is useful.
• Regional Office of Ministerio de Trabajo y Seguridad Social: This is the government agency under which trafficking technically fall although I am not sure how much they accept it as part of their mission. I wrote to encourage them to make it a priority and to offer whatever help I can in the area of education.
• Ambassador Anne Andrew: This one pretty much follows the pattern of the letter to the President too.
• E-mail to hotel owner in San del Sur: I don't know why this was so hard and humbing for me to take the risk to do. But I e-mailed the hotel owner where we stayed in Nicaragua and told him of my concern for the little girl on the beach. I asked him if there was a local who knew whether there was an adult who accompanied her and if not, if they might know someone who could keep an eye on her or who could inform her family of the dangers and encourage them to send someone to accompany her. That was hard to do for reasons I cannot articulate. It made me feel very raw and vulnerable to criticism, or worse yet, indifference. But it was one bit of personal action I could take. I know it was important for me to do it because the Holy Spirit wouldn't leave me alone about it. 
• Municipality of San Juan del Sur: Telling them of my experience, encouraging them to educate and protect their citizens and tourism sector, and again, offering my help. ( At this point, I am beginning to feel pretty foolish because I really have no idea what I will say if these people do accept my offer of help. I have no idea what I really can offer. But I do have some ideas. And if they're willing to talk to me, that one more person talking about this, right?)
• Bishop of Cartago, Costa Rica: We know him personally and it is by his permission that we are working here. I wrote to ask him if he is aware of any area where the Church in Costa Rica is working  on this issue and how I might be able to be a part of this work. I informed him of the work I hope to begin providing meaningful work for women and asked him if there was any more I could to help the Diocese bring awareness and invite a response to this problem in the country of Costa Rica.

So there yo have it. Feeling not just a little silly, vulnerable and humbled, I did it. I have no way of knowing what the results will be. But I did (am doing -- still working on some of those) what the Holy Spirit has been tugging me to do. And I know it was right.

To whom can you write this week to offer to be part of the solution? Your local tourism commission? Your pastor? A local ministry to vulnerable women? One of the organizations I mentioned above?

Who can you ask to join you in your fight? Are you part of women's prayer group, book club, Bible study or other group that might want to host a fund-raising event for our Blessed Zelie Martin Initiative? Could you invite others to join to pray publically at your church or in another location for the end to human trafficking and slavery?

If you want more information about how you might organize an event or a fundraiser to support the St. Bryce Foundation's efforts to get the Blessed Zelie Martin Initiative up and running and support the work of Salvando Corazones, please comment or drop me an e-mail.

Are you ready for action? If so, take it. If not, pray and meditate with the above verse from 1 Peter and ask the Spirit to make you ready and then to show you what to do. He will lead. He will answer. He will act. Because He loves. You and those who need what He is calling you to give. While you wait, why not write to thank and encourage and offer prayers to someone who is doing the work now? If you have an organization whose work you appreciate, write to the staff, let them know. If you would like to send a word of encouragement to the staff at Salvando Corazones, you can find their e-mails on the page, but I would also be happy to deliver it to them if you would like to e-mail it me or leave it in the comments.

Let's offer to help to be part of the solution with our time, our energy, our prayers and our encouragement today.

Let's Get The Facts

If we are to take an action on the issue of human trafficking, it's important that we take the time to get the facts. I know, I hate getting the facts myself. I'd much rather just get all impassioned about something, ride the wave as long as it lasts and then move on.
But human slavery and the buying and selling of children for sexual exploitation--happening in every country on the globe--today--as you read this. We can't afford not to educate ourselves. It will arm us for the battle and fuel us with an honest passion, not just an emotional one.
So here's how we can take action today:

• The most comprehensive and well organized way to read the most recently gathered information about this issue is to look through the Trafficking in Persons Report published annually by the U.S. government since 2001. I realize there is no way to read the entire document, but do read through as much of the introductory material as you are able. And then some of the individual country narratives. If you are in prayer for me and that beautiful little face that broke my heart, you might take a look at the Nicaragua report. If you are praying for the success of Salvando Corazones, you might read the Costa Rica report. Maybe there's a particular country you have heart for for your own particular reasons. Look it up. Read it. Get the facts. Let's know what it is we are working for. 
• Salvando Corazones information about Costa Rica: There is some good history and back ground of what is happening here in Costa Rica explained here.
• Health and Human Services Fact Sheet: A good overview of the legal definitions of the crime
• The Slavery Map will allow you to get a country by country and even state by state visual of the most recently reported, documented cases of human slavery. Staggering.
• United Nations information: Info Page, FAQs,Publications and Tools (I'm not linking this one for its readability but only because I think it gives a good idea of the wide spectrum this issue encompasses--there are law enforcement issues, justice system issues, social and psychological issues, diplomatic relations issues. No one, in any professional or personal sector should be uneducated about this issue.
• This page is for emergency medical providers but is a really good explanation of trafficking from the psychological and sociological perspective.
• Educate others: Tweet or post as your Facebook one fact you learn today with the link to the source.

Overwhelmed? I know, me too. I don't think anyone has the time to read all of this in one sitting. But if you take just a few minutes today and walk away armed with a little more information, a little more perspective, a little more passion, you have taken action on behalf of these victims. On behalf of real people living in real horror. All over the world. Right now.

And remember to keep praying. Every time you read a fact and it horrifies you or breaks your heart, pray. Every time you feel overwhelmed by statistics, pray. Prayer is our most powerful source of inspiration and are most powerful weapon.

The Little Girl That Broke My Heart

This weekend we took one of our famous visa renewal excursions to the southern Pacific coast of Nicaragua. As far as traveling goes, it was relatively unremarkable. We took our own car across the border guided by a cute little man named Jorge who knew his stuff and made the crossing paper work a snap. (When you get to the Nicaraguan border, whether you are walking or driving, you literally begin to be hunted by the “official” border guides who will carry your luggage/ watch your car/ bring you the papers you need/take you to the right windows etc. for a “tip” of your choosing. Which one you give in to eventually is a matter of fate. This time, we got Jorge, who was a literal God-send.) It was so easy that while my poor husband stood in line one last time, I went shopping for hand-crafted leather sandals at the curb side market. (Look, they’re $5, provide for some man’s family and fit perfectly in the new style I’m developing: missionary boho chic. I couldn’t resist.)

After the hugely successful crossing, we headed to , a beach town San Juan del Sur on the Southern tip of Nicaragua. As is the case with most beach towns around the world, San Juan del Sur is a mix of locals living at or below the poverty level appropriate to the country, the hippie ex pats who sell jewelry on the streets and live who knows where, the investors who own the hotels and are all also building condos and selling home sites in two other towns, and the Europeans who apparently prove they have “made it” by buying elaborately constructed condos at ridiculously over-inflated prices in the most obscure locations they can find. I’m telling you, fly to any country in Latin or South America, Asia or Oceania, drive to the nearest coast, find the beach and this is what you will find.

We tend to stand out a bit among this crowd if you haven’t already guessed. We traipse our poor children from one end of town to the other looking for a place to stay that: 1. has room for all of us 2. is willing to subject itself to our brand of chaos, 3. costs just a little more than free. Then we find somewhere to eat.

On the afternoon we arrived, we sat down at a large beach front restaurant and took in the lapping waters of the Pacific, the long stretch of sand, the huge statue to the Divine Mercy perched atop a mountain overlooking the whole area, and the incredibly reasonable seafood prices. At least 25 people made their way to our table from the beach to sell us things – sunglasses, phone cases, hand-crafted pottery, jewelry. This is the case everywhere you go in Nicaragua. It’s one of the reasons I have fallen in love with the place. (It’s a weird missionary thing.)

Our missionary spending mindset goes something like this…cheap hotels, cheap food with the occasional splurge, cheap or free clothes and shoes…poor locals selling things you don’t need and which are likely to break before dessert…buy them. We had already bought two pairs of sunglasses and an iPhone car charger when the most precious little girl approached our table with a basket full of little creatures made out of sea shells. We gave each other the collective bleeding heart look that said we knew we were not sending this sweet one away empty-handed. We bought a turtle. We encouraged forced my father-in-law to buy a turtle. I asked her who made them, she said her mother. I asked her how old she was, she said nine. And then my son gave her the sunglasses we had just bought him because “they were kind of pink anyway”. They were burgundy. Welcome to the family of bleeding hearts, son.

Later, as Greg and I were talking about the place and the atmosphere and how much we loved Nicaragua, I mentioned the little girl to him. He is by now used to the fact that everywhere we go I become fixated on some girl child and talk about her endlessly as if I had known her all her life. We agreed she was the most precious little thing and mentioned with some concern that we hoped someone was nearby watching her as she worked on that crowded beach.

That evening I sat in the hotel lobby with the plan to take advantage of working Wi-Fi and glut myself on free7Kindle books. I connected and found to my happy surprise Jen Hatmaker's book 7 at the top of my list. I had forgotten that Elizabeth had gifted it to me a couple of months ago to read along with her but I had never been anywhere with Wi Fi to download it. I started reading, and I did that book thing that bookish types do. I immediately become so immersed that I treated everyone around me as if they were interrupting an important conversation every time they distracted me.

I took it with me to the beach the next morning and read for four hours while my boys splashed and played and built sand forts and collected rocks and sand dollars. I will admit that I was so immersed that all of us are now walking around hissing loudly “DON”T TOUCH MY BACK” whenever anyone comes near us. If you are not familiar, Jen Hatmaker is a Christian author and speaker who, along with her husband, took up God’s challenge to simplify their own lives and become advocates and friends to the poor. In 7, she spends 7 months wheedling down some area of her life to 7 essential things and reflecting on its effect. For one month, she ate only 7 foods, another, wore only 7 clothing items. It is everything I love in a book – challenging, inspiring, spiritual, funny (Y'all the girl is funny). And she made me think about lots of big things there on that beach.

Of which the loudest was “what the heck am I doing here on this beach when there are poor just around the corner? Why am I not serving?” Eventually I remembered I was sitting on that beach because I live a life in service to the poor. I resisted the temptation to load up my little missionaries and their flip flops and tell them we had to leave immediately to buy rice and beans to deliver to yet unknown needy families in the area. I waved happily to them as I watched them jump waves with a couple of local boys they had befriended, carefully guarded their prized rocks (okay, I might have left them when I ran  screaming from the incoming tide, Kindle high in the air and towels in hand), and read on.

And then she was back. The sweet little brown face gently pushing a seashell rooster toward me, the shy smile melting my heart. I knew I couldn’t justify buying another sea shell creature but I didn’t want to send her away. I wanted to buy her a Coke and something sweet and sticky to eat and tell her to sit down next to me and forget about working for the afternoon. I knew that probably wasn’t going to get high approval marks from whoever had sent her out here in the first place. So I told her I couldn’t buy anything today and to be careful.

And my heart has not stopped aching ever since. In its early aching, I wondered with a tinge of anger  about who sent her out to the beach alone all weekend to work. I questioned why they didn’t realize it was dangerous. My mind started to question what the human trafficking statistics were in Nicaragua and if her mother knew about them. I was mad at whoever was putting this child in this danger so regularly.

And then I began to think about why she was there. And my heart hurt even more. It’s been hurting ever since. I cannot get this little girl out of my mind. She’s on that beach working every weekend because of us, because of me. Because my heart will bleed more readily looking into the beautiful face of that little girl and be inclined to buy her little shell animals than it will be looking into the face of her tired mother  trying to support her children. Because I am not moved to action by her poverty or her efforts to avoid it, she sends her little girl to me – vulnerable, sweet and a good sell. I am sick about this.

I have begged the Lord to help me see how to remedy this in myself. I have begged him to break my heart wide open for the mothers trying to survive, feed their children, keep them healthy and happy and whole against all odds. And to give those mothers my full attention and support when I find them in front of me. To tell them that I value what they are doing, that they are valiant and noble and beautiful and that it makes me thankful to have the chance to look into their beautiful faces and be blessed by their presence and their work. I beg to be the person who loves and encourages and supports instead of looking away or acting bothered. I beg that I will never again contribute to the culture that encourages a mom to send her child out to work because it will bring them more food than if she went herself.

But my heart still breaks. That little girl follows me to my dreams at night and on my morning walks. I think of things I wish I would have told her. That she was very, very beautiful and had a sweet smile. That she was doing a really good job and her mom would be proud. That she would never ever be alone because there was a God who loved her and valued her above all things. That she could walk in joy and hope because she had been redeemed by the love of a merciful Savior. I wish I could have found way to explain to her without frightening to her how careful she needs to be. I wish I could run back there right now and have a re-do. But I can’t.

And I’m living with that reality and asking God what He wants me to do with it. Asking the Holy Spirit to prompt me to see the ways I am called to be part of the solution. Yesterday, I took a long look at the Trafficking in Persons Report. This reality is profoundly appalling and the statistics so overwhelming, that sometimes I find it mind-numbing. I shut down because if I really think it all through, I might break in half from the tragedy of it all. But yesterday, I was happily surprised to find that Nicaragua is not on the watch list, that their government has really stepped up efforts to protect their people and complied fully with all the international recommendations. But my heart sank when I read further and found out that the very beach where we were, San Juan del Sur, is highlighted as one of the highest danger zones for human trafficking in Nicaragua. Also, to my surprise, I found out that Costa Rica is still on the Tier 2 watch list. The country has increased its efforts in the area of human trafficking and moved up from the abysmal Tier 1 status it first received, but still lacks in awareness campaign efforts and has yet to prosecute a single suspected offender.

My recent reading has inspired to think beyond the “well I’m here, being a missionary, aren’t I” mindset and think of ways the Spirit might be calling me to action. And I think there are ways that, with a little help, we can make an effort on the awareness front here and in San Juan del Sur. I might need a bit of a hand on the technical side of what I’m thinking about. I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you more about it. Drop me a line or a comment if you might like to help be a part of the effort.

In our daily holy hours, part of the prayer we pray is “that I may never sit with arms folded but always seek to do more and better”. I know Jesus is breaking my heart for this little girl and her mother on a beach somewhere in Nicaragua for a reason. I’m sure if I pushed it out of my mind for a few days, it would be replaced by other things. But I don’t want it to. I’m begging the Savior to break my heart for His people the way His breaks for them. I’m begging to be an apostle of mercy. I will take that little girl to my prayers every day and speak over her the words I wish I had thought to say there on that beach. I will try to find someone in the area who might seek her out and find an adult who would keep watch over her on the weekends when she is working. I will pray that God sends me back to her, to her priest who is struggling to minister to more than 20 communities without proper chapels. I will pray to see her in the eyes and faces of every mother and child I meet here where I am and that I always find the courage to say those things to them that I wish I had said to her, to the little girl who I hope has forever changed me, opened my eyes anew to the plight of God’s children, made it real and painful and too awful to ignore.

Will you join me this week in praying every day for this sweet child? For all children in danger? For the mothers who are struggling to provide for them and feel forced to endanger them? For God’s people to seek them out, find them, love them in His name, do what they can to relieve the suffering of the poor? For all our hearts to break into action? And then, maybe, you will be able to join me in the little effort I am brewing up in my mind? Please will you come back and read more on that tomorrow? If you are praying with me, will you leave a note in the comments, so we can see the bouquet of prayers we are arranging together? Thank you for listening to the cry of my heart.

More Than Enough

Recently, in the days that the whole "Are You Mom Enough?" debate broke out, I confess that I regarded the whole thing with a bit of indifference.  My mind was already abuzz with its own justified indignation about motherhood and the media. And it was not about the infamous Time cover. It was about this article and the link I followed from Facebook to the Huffington post summation.

The condensed article focuses on the thirty best countries in which to be a mother, with only a passing mention of Niger, which is last on the list in terms of suitability for mothering.  The discussion that followed the article was all about how it seems implausible that the U.S. should rank 25^th in the statistics and what we should do to fix that.

I immediately wanted to know more about this survey and the other 116 countries that fell behind these top 30 in the rankings. Turns out the survey was actually conducted by Save the Children and its intent was not to turn another cog in the Mommy Wars wheel over whether Norwegian mothers with two years maternity leave are enjoying a better brand of motherhood than American mothers with minivans and soccer schedules.  Its purpose was to highlight the other 116 countries in less developed nations and the plight of mothers therein. But, it seemed to me anyway, no one was paying attention.

Then there was that blazing headline plastered everywhere, “Are You Mom Enough?”  I confess that I hardly glanced at the picture through my tiny cell phone internet screen and barely related the Dr. Sears headline I had seen mentioned online to that article until I began to see the responses of a few friends.

These two items and the life I am living tumbled around in my mind for a few days and I struggled to piece it all together. They tumbled and jumbled with my thoughts about the fact that when we left for this mission, I had a ticket home dated this week. A ticket home to welcome the third trimester of a much awaited pregnancy that ended abruptly four days before we left. They tumbled around with my growing anxiety about the impending date of my Bryce’s would-be third birthday. They mixed their way in with images of orphans and sick, hot babies strapped to their mommies’ backs while they walk for hours to secure provisions for their families.

And suddenly, I found myself very angry.  Angry at the very notion of “Are You Mom Enough?” whether it was pointing its ugly finger at attachment parenting or any other aspect of mothering.

The very idea that motherhood could be made into a competition is infuriating. But the bigger picture, the picture no one seemed to be seeing is that the very idea of parenting philosophies, of choices in motherhood that involve anything more than sheer survival are a luxury, a blessing afforded by relative affluence to mothers in developed cultures.

Tag that question onto these images of motherhood and feel its shallowness, feel the punch in your gut:

I have been pregnant three times in the last four years and I have no baby in my arms. No baby to choose to nurse and for how long. Am I mom enough?

The chance of becoming the mother of a dead baby in Niger, Africa is 1 in 1. Meaning that every woman who risks motherhood will eventually be the mother of at least one dead baby. Are they mom enough?

Last week, I invited an indigenous mother in out of the rain with her sweet baby girl. She was sick. She was wet. And she had been carried on her mother’s back for eight hours to town to receive money from a government fund that it turns out wasn’t available. That mother sat on my porch and nursed her wet, tired baby without reserve. Because she’s mom enough? Or because she needs to survive?

I rode the bus the other day with a mom whose baby had such bad cold and conjunctivitis that her upper eye lids were almost swollen shut. She struggled to nurse her in a hot, crowded bus with men standing over the top of her and her baby sweating profusely in her arms. She wanted to buy tamales from a man on the bus and was humiliated when she misunderstood how much they cost and did not have enough money to pay for them, so had to return them while her hungry toddler was reduced to tears at her side. Is she mom enough?

My friend who helps me in my house two days week asked me the other day if she could take three pencils from my children’s school supply box for her son. He has been in school for four months without a pencil to write with. She can’t read the notes that come home from school so doesn’t know if he needs anything else and she could not afford to buy it anyway. Is she mom enough?

I spent five days at an orphanage in Nicaragua with kids who are not really orphans at all but who have been turned over to this place by families who could not afford to feed them, care for them, educate them. I watched a mom come early one morning for her two teenaged daughters who have lived at the home all of their lives. She turned them over when her husband abandoned her and the children and she was unable to find work or a place for them to live. But every Saturday morning she gets up at 5 am and walks four hours to see them and, if there is enough food, to bring them home with her for the weekend. Because she’s mom enough?

And what about the “tias” who daily provide care for little girls who know no other way of life than living like this, in this home with other children who are not their brothers and sisters, cared for by people who are not their family. They rise at 6am to get little heads brushed and bodies dressed for school. They lead those babies to God’s Word as they feed them breakfast. They study with them and teach them life skills in the afternoons. They feed them and bathe them and sleep by their sides at night. And they love them. They love them so well. They fill these little lives with confidence and trust and openness. Are they mom enough?

The truth is, they are not. Sometimes, all that love is enough to replace what’s missing, what’s broken in these little lives and it results in the three children now studying together in a university in Managua. But sometimes it is not. Sometimes the brokenness is just too much to overcome.

Mothers will do their best all over the world to be mom enough tonight. And some of them will still hold a lifeless baby in their arms in morning. They will nurse a baby with each little whimper all night long and tuck that little one up next to them to sleep. And they will still wake to dirt floors and not enough food and babies whose intestines are filled with worms and parasites.  A mother will look into the eyes of her hungry baby and make the choice to hand it over to someone who may be able care for that little one better than her.  And she may never know if it was enough. 

The truth I think we would all do well to admit is that none of us is enough. No mothering style or parenting philosophy is enough to overcome the sin, the brokenness and the death that plagues humanity. Mothers have a special role in lessening that burden for the children they are gifted, but alone, they are not enough. As much as we love our babies, none of us, rich or poor, well or sick, capable or incapable, are enough to take the weight of our children’s brokenness on our shoulders, the weight of the children of the world, and be pierced through by their needs, nailed to the wood of a cross to save them from death. None of us can open to them the gates of the only place that will ever be enough, the only place they will ever know perfect love.

With that knowledge, we, the mothers, become clinging, needy little ones, grasping tight to the breast of our Savior and begging for His sustenance. We are not enough. But He is. And He knows the hearts of all these mothers all over the world struggling to be what these little ones need.  And He feeds them and loves them and binds up their wounds when we cannot.

There are moms all over the world who will never be enough. Never enough to fill their babies bellies, never enough to heal them from their illnesses, never enough to build them a warm house or buy them the books they need to learn. And yet they mother as best they can. And they need someone to tell them about the loving Savior who fills in where they cannot and makes all things new.  And the ones most well-equipped to do that are not the moms who are “mom enough”. They are the ones who know all too well that they are not enough, who know the sting of want and need and loss. 

I am not mom enough. Love as I might, I could not breathe life into these last three little ones my heart so longs to hold. As painful as it may be, I am grateful for that knowledge. Because every time I look into the eyes of a mother feeling the terrible weight of not being enough, I pray that they see in my brokenness the One who is enough.  Because He is waiting to rush in and be all that we, His little ones, needs.  He who more than enough, He who is everything. 

Mission to Nicaragua: Photo Story

The video below is the full photo journal of our trip to Nicaragua. There are some shots here I want to stop and look at for a long time with you as I reflect more on the trip, but this slide show tells the whole story, the places, the faces, the joy. I am still waiting for the words to come. But for now, the pictures will help me say all that is in my heart.

Mission-ception

My husband dubbed our recent trip to Nicaragua to renew our visas "Mission Within a Mission". My oldest son found this quite humorous and re-dubbed it "Mission-ception". Because it has been five weeks since he has been here with us and I miss his quirky humor tremendously, I have stuck with that.
The trip was so blessed and I am still trying to process all that happened and wade through photos, mental images and journal entries in order to share some coherent thoughts. The problem is that it was also utterly exhausting and we are all still trying to recover and at the same time keep life going here with a mild sense of order (and I use the term loosely).
Today, as I say by the river with my prayer journal and looked at the quick day-by-day notes I made on the trip, it struck that it was interesting in its own right and might make a good introduction to where we went as I start to share more about the trip. So here it is, the Mission-ception run down.

Tuesday, April 10th:

• Bus from Grano de Oro to Turrialba (2 hours)
• Bus from Turrialba to San Jose  (3 hours)
• Bus from San Jose to Ciudad Quesada (3 hours)
• Bus from Ciudad Quesada to Aguazarcas (30 minutes)
• Overnight visit with an amazing missionary family and group from St. Thomas More High School in Lafayette

Wednesday, April 11th

• Bus from Aguazarcas to Cuidad Quesada (30 minutes)
• Bus from Ciudad Quesada to La Fortuna (2 hours)
• Two days at the cabins of an old friend in the shadows of Arenal volcano, enjoying one of our favorite spots in Costa Rica--swimming pools, thermal waters, picnincs, pizza, birthday celebration for Dina Estrella, our landlady who accompanied us on our trip

Friday, April 13th

• Cab ride from La Fortuna to El Tanque (30 minutes)
• Bus ride from El Tonque to Penas Blancas (6 hours)
• Crossing the border on foot and clearing both immigration offices (1 hour)
• Bus ride to Rivas, Nicaragua (1 hour)
• Cab ride to port of San Jorge (30 minutes)
• Lunch on the beach
• Ferry ride to Ometepe Island (1 hour)
• Taxi Ride to CICRIN (Christian Infants and Children's Center in Nicaragua)
• Warm welcome by the staff and children of CICRIN

Saturday, April 14th

• trip into the town of Moyogalpa to see a bit of the Island
• chore time and play time with the CICRIN kids
• Swimming in Lake Nicaragua
• helping in the kitchen
• movie night under the stars with a lap full of kids

Sunday, April 15th

• 8 am Mass at Santa Ana Church in Moyogalpa
• Birthday lunch at a hotel in town
• Swimming at the Oja de Agua with the CICRIN kids
• Relaxing evening swinging in the hammocks in the rancho and playing with the kiddos

Monday, April 16th

• More hammocks, kitchen help, chores, and playing
• A trip to town to buy a pinata
• The most amazing birthday celebration ever at CICRIN

Tuesday, April 17th

• Ferry ride from Ometepe to San Jorge (1 hour)
• Cab ride to Rivas (30 minutes)
• Breakfast in Rivas
• Cab ride to border (30 minutes)
• Border crossing with fellow bus passengers and lots of other various waiting (3 hours)
• Bus from border to San Jose (6 hours)
• Pizza Hut
• Sleep over at the apartment of Dona Estrella's daughter

Wednesday, April 18th

• First hot shower in a week
• Bus ride from San Jose to Turrialba (3 hours)
• Wandering around Turrialba trying to find Greg (we got inexplicably separated and our phones were wonked out from the trip)
• SNOWBALLS with condensed milk in the park!!!!!
• A quick grocery trip
• Bus ride from Turrialba to Grano de Oro (2 hours)
• Walk from bus stop to home dragging huge suit case, back packs, exhausted kids, and a sack of groceries in the rain
• Sleep. In our own beds. 

I hope this will make the upcoming storm of photos and reflections make a little more sense. And explain why I need to recover a bit before hashing it all out. Be back soon to share more!