Leslie A

Keep Growing Up

IMG_3904revThe other day, as we were walking through a botanical garden, Eric pointed out a tree to me. This particular tree was about two or three feet in diameter and had obviously had some kind of terrible thing happen to it, for it was uprooted and the roots stuck out of the ground at one end.

But–for whatever reason– it had kept growing. It almost looked like an elbow or a knee joint, with half of the tree lying horizontally on the ground, but the other half somehow making a ninety degree angle and taking an incredible turn upwards towards the sky.

I don’t think either of us have ever seen anything quite like it (see my photo above). And, once again, we are awed by God’s creation and also its adaptability.

It made me think about humans and how adaptable some of us are.  And also about how unadaptable some of us are.

Bad things–hard circumstances–toxic environments–difficult moments happen to us all. None of us are immune. And we have days or months–sometimes years– where we lie there with our roots sticking out all over the place, flat on the ground, catching our breath and trying to heal or maybe just survive.

But we all–just like that tree– should start growing upwards again. We shouldn’t just lie there forever.

Of course, part of that tree will always be lying flat against the ground. It has become part of what it is. It didn’t magically dig its roots back in the soil and lift up its entire trunk upwards. No, instead, very slowly, just a little each year, it started growing upwards.

We need to do that same thing. We can’t eliminate our scars. But we can make sure that we are growing the right direction. It will be a slow process– no doubt about that.

And it is a choice. A choice to think the right thoughts and do the right things. It is a choice to turn away from bitterness and unforgiveness and anger. It is a choice to forgive and to love so that you can start growing in the right direction again. And, most of all, it is the choice to yield our wills and desires to our heavenly Father’s, the One who knows everything.

We will all probably be knocked flat on our back at some time or other. The key is growing back in the right direction.

 

 

Wednesday Wisdom: Learning from Creation

IMG_4168revI am sitting here on a screened-in porch by the Caribbean sea this morning enjoying some quiet time and thinking about what I want to post this morning (and, really, even if I want to post this morning…) when all of a sudden it started raining. I watched the rain for a few minutes when suddenly I realized that there was a rainbow. And not just any rainbow, but the fullest, brightest rainbow I have ever seen! It was gorgeous and my picture does not do it even a bit of justice.

The beautiful rainbow brought to mind the awesome sites we’ve seen the last couple of days in our exploration of Grand Cayman Island. We have come across incredible skies, wildlife, plants, and sea creatures that just confirm the awesome beauty of God’s creation. I thought that I would share some of the photos here. Instead of presenting someone else’s writing this Wednesday, I am presenting God’s creation, basing this post on Romans 1:20. I hope you enjoy these shots that I have taken.

P.S. For any interested photographers–all of these photos were taken with my Canon PowerShot SX260 HS

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The Magic Pants

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I feel a little silly even writing this post. I know that some of you won’t get it at all. But there may be just a few of you who do. So I am going to share this story.

I made the mistake of wearing my favorite pants the first day of my mission trip. I knew the first half of the day would be spent traversing the hills and rocky pathways of two different ghettos. I wanted to be comfortable. And while I knew we would be doing some painting in the afternoon, I also knew there was also some outdoor work that needed done. I hoped to be assigned to that.

But as we sat at lunch and were assigned our afternoon duties, it became clear that there wasn’t enough work outside for more than one person to be assigned the outdoor duty — and it was going to be a man, not a woman. My heart sank, as I looked at my precious pants.

You may wonder why I was so attached to these pants. Well, for starters, they cost more than I usually spend on any piece of clothing. They were made of microfiber and were super comfortable, while still looking really nice. I was just not quite ready to cover them with paint splatters, rendering them useless for future wear.

I silently berated myself for putting them on in the first place.

As we started on our project– a small dingy kitchen with semi-green walls and lots of spider webs and dirt, I concentrated on clean-up. Maybe I wouldn’t have to paint at all! I felt a little surge of hope.

That hope died, however, as it became clear I would need to help paint. I sighed with resignation and went and got a bowl of white paint and a brush to get started on a door.

As I started moving the brush up and down, I had a little dialogue going with God.

“I really didn’t want to mess up these pants, God.”

“They are just pants.”

“I know, but they are my favorite pants!”

“They are just pants. You can get more.”

“Maybe, but what if I can’t?”

“Look at these people and how they live? Some don’t even have enough to eat! How can you be worried about a pair of pants, when you have so many other pairs at home?”

The conversation went on like this for several minutes. Not that He was actually talking to me, it was just the back and forth going on in my mind between my desires and the TRUTH of the situation.

Until, finally, I surrendered my favorite pants to Him.

And, so, when the first drop of paint spilled on my pants, I took it “like a man”. I may have given a tiny little sigh, but I had already resigned myself to the inevitability of it. I will admit that I did continue to paint very carefully, being cautious not to wipe my hands on my pants. This was a challenge for me, as I am usually a very messy painter.

When I got about three spots on my pants, I decided that it couldn’t hurt to see if I could wipe them off, so the spots would at least be less noticeable. Perhaps I could at least save them enough for wear around home.

Imagine my surprise, when not only did the spots become less noticeable, but disappeared completely! Apparently, the fabric did not soak up the paint, but instead kept it only on the top layer. Whatever the reason, my pants, with the aid of a few wet wipes, were spotless after an afternoon of painting. I was speechless.

I would get to keep my favorite pants, after all! After that initial conversation with God, I had come to a place where I had sacrificed them with a heart of joy and surrender, and God had seen fit to give them back to me.

I don’t know why, but I am thankful to Him for this little way He showed He cares. I know I don’t deserve it.

 

The Beauty of Grace

DSC_0140revWe saw the beautiful cathedral from a distance. It was one of the most beautiful buildings I had ever seen. I was delighted when the bus parked and we could disembark for a look at this amazing piece of architecture up close.

As our team poured from the bus, I noticed many people coming and going from the church. As we walked towards the building, our Costa Rican leader, Raymond, told me a little of its history. Apparently, once each year, there would be a huge celebration in honor of the humble beginnings of the church. He told me that people would come from many miles away, always walking the last mile on their knees. This was part of the ritual expected at this celebration.  In fact, that was part of the tradition of this church at all times — you walked the aisles on your knees.

As if to confirm what he was saying, as we went inside the church, I saw a woman and her small daughter, walking on their knees towards the front of the church.

And I was overwhelmed with gratefulness for God’s grace. I didn’t need to do anything to earn God’s favor. Jesus had taken care of all of that for me. Suddenly, I understood in a new way the inestimable value of this gift.

As we continued on our tour, we walked down a circular walkway to the area where holy water dripped from a pipe or a spring. Around this area many were gathered, anxious to fill a small container of this holy water for healing or special blessing.

And, once again, I was overwhelmed with a grateful heart for God’s grace. I didn’t need any special water for blessing or healing. I knew that God’s Word teaches that we can just go to Him in prayer with our requests and that He hears us (Luke 11:9-13). There was no need for special water, candles lit to saints, or useless prayers said to the human mother of God.

I knew that the beautiful building held within its walls a false religion based on works. A religion where people were chained to works-based righteousness, always hoping that they had done enough good works to earn their way to heaven.

And I was thankful. So thankful. God, in His incredible mercy and grace, had made a way for me — for anyone — to be reconciled to Him. I didn’t deserve it. I knew that. I was the worst of all sinners. I AM the worst of all sinners. And yet, God loved me so much that He offered His Son as a sacrifice for me. As a sacrifice for any who would repent and believe. What amazing grace and love!

And I was dismayed. For there were thousands, if not millions, who still didn’t realize that walking on your knees and praying to humans wasn’t at all necessary to reach heaven (Isaiah 64:6). For Jesus had already paid the price. If we repent and accept this free gift, we are guaranteed a spot in heaven (John 3:16).

Of course, this gift, if we truly understand it, changes and transforms us completely. We are no longer the person we were. Some might perceive us as legalistic or caught up in rules, but we genuine believers know that our choices aren’t based on a set of rules but, instead, out of a heart of love for the precious Savior who gave His life for us (I John 2:3-6, John 14:15, Colossians 3:23-24).

And I understood the beauty of God’s grace in a whole new way. Amazing Grace isn’t just a song. It’s the Truth. And what an incredible Truth it is.

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
But now I’m found!
Was blind
But now I see!

 

 

Wednesday Wisdom: The Lord Will Be My Shepherd

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I thought that, after the two long posts on Monday and Tuesday, I would just do a short post for Wednesday Wisdom today. I don’t know about you, but I am still processing the story of Casa de Pan!

I heard this beautiful paraphrase of Psalm 23 several months ago. As I searched for the lyrics online, I had a very difficult time finding them. But, eventually, after a little work, I came across them. I can’t even remember the tune (I wish I could!) but what great comfort and wisdom in these words. 

THE LORD WILL BE MY SHEPHERD

The Lord will be my shepherd, He knows my ev’ry need.
He renews my faith each morning with the promise of His peace.
As I rest in a quiet meadow, or beside a clear blue stream,
the Lord will be my shepherd, I will follow where He leads.
Though the shadows of darkness surround me, I will never be afraid,
for I know the Lord will protect me from the dangers I must face.
When there’s anger or trouble around me, and I want to run and hide,
I will find Him near to calm my fear, always at my side.
The Lord will be my shepherd wherever I may go.
He will fill me with His kindness, He will strengthen me with hope.
When my day at last is over, He will come and take me home.
The Lord will be my shepherd, I will never be alone.

Part 2: Casa de Pan

IMG_3602revThis is part 2 of the amazing story of Casa de Pan, a home we visited in Costa Rica last week. You can read Part 1 here. And now for the rest of the story–

With Raymond functioning as her interpreter, Melba first started to tell us the story of Anita, one of her young daughters, who appeared to have a form of Cerebral Palsy. I found out later that my sister-in-law had asked about her and that was the reason for the special invitation into the house for this specific story. She told us that this nine year old girl had been born a normal little girl. But when she was just a toddler, she had been found with a fractured skull, two broken collar bones, broken legs, and infected cigarette burns all over her body. From that point on, she was never normal again.  It was later discovered that her stepfather had done these horrible things to this tiny girl. Who knows what else this evil man had done to her in her short life? I think I may have listened to the story with my mouth open. I cannot fathom the depth of wickedness within a person to cause them to do such things to an innocent child. It moves far beyond my comprehension. The little girl is not only physically disabled, but mentally disabled, as well. She will forever be a child now…and all because she happened to be the unfortunate recipient of an evil man’s anger or perversion (or maybe both). When they brought her to the home of Victor and Melba, they opened up their arms and took her in. She is one of {I think} three special needs children in their home at this time.

As we continued to talk, she told us a few more tragic stories of the children now safely ensconced in their loving home. As she talked, we could feel her love and care for each child. She went on to tell us that they had six biological children and that 95 adopted children had already grown up in their home. I asked her if she was in touch with each one. She smiled and said “of course,” and then went on to tell of one son who had lost touch for awhile, but had recently been back in touch. The couple keeps the weekends free of any extra visitors and reserves those days just for family. That is when their grown children stop by, many of them now bringing along their own kids.

Finally someone asked how all of this had come about. We listened intently to the fascinating story–

Her fourth child, a girl, was extremely ill. They had made the decision to take her to the hospital, where they had been given the devastating news that she was dying. They visited often and did all they could to make their sweet baby comfortable. In the next bed, a young boy lay dying from cancer. But no one visited him. In fact, they later found out that his family had abandoned him. And so they started showing him some attention, trying to show him that someone cared whether he lived or died.

As the doctor watched the couple’s reactions to the tragic news of their daughter’s impending death, he was amazed at the peace and strength with which they accepted the news. He had never seen anyone react like this. The couple made it clear that God was the source of their strength and they gave Him all of the credit.

As they prepared to take their daughter home to die, the doctor approached them with an unusual request. Would they be willing to take the abandoned boy home with them, as well? There wasn’t really much of a discussion, as they knew they couldn’t let the boy die alone in the hospital and so they bundled the two young children up–a small girl much loved by her biological family and a small boy completely and utterly abandoned by his — and took them both home to die.

But, unbelievably, both children did not die. Instead they grew stronger and stronger, until both were declared well again (in fact, the beautiful lady on the far left of the photo above is this daughter all grown up!)

After that incident (or should I say miracle?), Melba told us of her and Victor’s decision to give all they had and owned to the Lord completely. I am not sure if they knew what that meant at the time, but they were soon to find out.

Unfortunately, we did not have enough time to get all the details of how they went from one to 142 adopted children, but, needless to say, in the last 35 years, they have become a valuable resource for the Costa Rican government. They will often drop their most hopeless cases there. In fact, because they know and trust the couple, they will actually do the paperwork, pay any fees, and hire the lawyer to see the entire adoption process through.

She went on to tell of some of the amazing ways God had provided for them through the years. While she talked, I couldn’t help but stare at the picture of the family hanging on the mantle. My eyes then strayed to their wedding picture on a little round table nearby. They couldn’t have possibly realized that day so long ago just how mightily God would use them in the future — and all because they gave everything to Him.

After hearing her story, I felt so many things.

deeper faith — in hearing how God had cared for this family in so many big and small ways.

thankfulness — for a couple who would give up their own comfort to meet the needs of all of these beautiful children.

shame — for being far too worried about my own comfort and convenience in my own small world.

and thoughtfulness — what would happen if we Americans gave our all, instead of being busy with inconsequential things? How could God use us and the abundant resources we have available to us?

And I knew that I would never be quite the same person after hearing her story. I will always thank the Lord for allowing me to listen in on that testimony of faith and to see an example of how the Lord works when we submit everything to Him.

 

 

Part 1: Casa de Pan

IMG_3633Our week in Costa Rica was almost over. It was Thursday afternoon and we had been to one private children’s home and two public children’s homes already. We were told this one was different. This was a real home owned by a couple who had adopted all 46 of the children living there. My mind tried to comprehend that, but it seemed to be beyond my scope of imagination. 46?!? I was to find out that it was actually many more.

After driving through city streets, seeing hundreds of homes behind iron bars, the bus pulled up to a beautiful, plant-covered wall. As we got out, we saw a big blue gate. As we walked towards the gate, we heard the laughter of children behind the wall and even a couple of dogs barking.IMG_3620

As the blue gate swung open and our team walked up the driveway, I smiled with delight. For here was a beautiful oasis in the city of San Jose. There was a big backyard and in the middle of it stood a huge tree. As we looked up, we saw an immense tree house tucked within its branches. Children of all ages and sizes played happily. The house, white with blue trim, looked warm and welcoming. Up on the roof and at the upstairs open windows were several teenagers watching us.

Our team was there to play with the children for a few hours. After a few minutes, I noticed that a few of the ladies were headed around back. They were headed to the outdoor dining room to use the tables. I hurried to join them. As we walked around the back of the house, I came upon an outdoor room that was obviously the laundry room. This large, long room was probably used daily, evidenced by the little onesies hanging on the line just outside the door and the mounds and mounds of laundry I could see over the wall.

IMG_3588We took a left and walked down a pathway to the outdoor kitchen, located on the right. To my left, I saw a shelf that reached to the ceiling, filled with little shoes. As we walked into the dining room and started coloring, we noticed a couple older teenagers, blonde and blue-eyed, who didn’t look Costa Rican. As I talked to one, I found out that this 17 year old girl from Austria was just finishing up a 3 month term as a volunteer here in the house known as Casa de Pan. 

IMG_3598At one point, I went in search of a bathroom. I found one for our use, in the center of a new building that stood beside the house. The bathroom was finished (I can certainly understand why that would have been a priority), but there was an older gentleman working on finishing the rooms to either side. On my way there, I poked my head in the room and offered a smile and a “Buenas Dias”. The man smiled, offered a firm handshake, and told me his name was Victor. He then pointed to the little boy playing at his feet and told me with a smile that his name was Victor, as well. We talked for a few minutes, using his limited English, my limited Spanish, and a few hand motions, and then I left. At the time, I did not realize that Victor was the heroic head of this wonderful household.

After awhile, I headed to the backyard to join in the fun there. As I snapped a few photos, I drank in the loveliness of the place. Here were 46 children who would not get lost in the system. Here were 46 beautiful souls that had found home. And not just any home, but a home run by parents with faith in Jesus Christ. It was truly amazing. As I contemplated this couple, I will be painfully honest and let you know that I started to feel just a bit shallow in my “work” for the Lord. How much more I could give.

As I was looking around and thinking, my eye caught movement on the front porch. I saw my sister-in-law and my daughter following an older lady into the house, along with our Costa Rican leader and our American team leader. I hurried to catch up and joined the end of the line. This looked like it might be an opportunity to see a bit more of the inner workings of this incredible place.

Inside, we were taken to a beautiful large living room. Right inside the door was a girl of about twelve holding a three week old baby, swathed in a pink blanket. The girl offered her to my sister-in-law, who after a few minutes, graciously handed her to my baby-loving daughter. There the baby nestled in for a nap in the arms of my contented daughter for the duration of our time inside.

We were told to have a seat. Melba, a calm, kind, and comfortable-looking woman sat on a sofa with Raymond, our Costa Rican leader, us three women sat on another sofa, and Steve, our team leader, sat on a chair.

As Melba started to speak, I had no idea that this would be the most impactful and inspiring hour of my entire week. I will share Part 2 tomorrow.

 

Snapshots of Costa Rica

Well, it has been a great (and exhausting) week! When I have some time, I want to share some highlights and stories from the trip with you. But for this morning I thought I would share a few pictures. Unfortunately, Costa Rica is extremely careful about photographing their orphans and so you won’t see any close up shots of any beautiful faces. By the way, this beautiful country has been relatively free of any ugly insects. the picture below is the only thing seen in our wonderful accommadations! Here is a small taste of our week–

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Impressions of a Day in the Ghetto

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My iPad never changed the time, so I find myself with an extra hour this morning! I thought I may as well put it to good use and share a little of our experience so far in Costa Rica. Yesterday I, along with two of my daughters, my sister-in-law, and my niece, spent much of the day in the ghetto. We were delivering grocery bags of food and hygiene supplies to people who literally had none. We also painted a house that wasn’t officially in the ghetto, but was certainly not an American house. I thought I’d just give a few impressions of our day–

Frail grandma and eight grandchildren. In a teeny tiny space. With a tree in the middle.

Water was running everywhere. Was it sewage? No one seemed to know. Dogs and their poop were everywhere. People of all sizes and shapes were everywhere.

Too big shoes for little feet.

A widow with tears in her eyes as we prayed for her.

Much prayer for family members who were “enfermo” (sick). Dysentery, cancer, heart disease are all a concern here.

Tin, cardboard, and wood all put together haphazardly to create “home”.

A tiny boy left home alone while his mother went to find enough money to feed he and his three brothers for the day.

Hilly, muddy, rocky walkways with 5 gallon buckets hooked together to create a drainage pipe when needed at some places.

Faces. So many faces. Some with smiles. Some with sadness. And some shadowed with worry.

Rusted refrigerators and stoves made out of bricks and oven racks.

A humble little home beautifully decorated for Christmas already.

Sad, miserable lives but happy, thankful people.

Faith in the midst of the ghetto. Faith in spite of —or maybe because of— the circumstances.

Always a very emotionally draining experience.

Thanks so much for your prayers. We have been challenged in many ways to step outside of our comfort zone. We expect that to be part of our week. Please continue to pray for us.

p.s. The photo above is our view from where we are staying. I made the mistake of not taking any pictures with my iPhone yesterday and cannot upload my camera’s SD card. But isn’t our view lovely?

6 Reasons You Should Go

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As you may have noticed by now, I am keeping to the theme of missions this week, in light of my upcoming trip to Costa Rica. You can read the whole story about why I am taking this particularly trip here if you missed it.

As I was thinking about leaving on Sunday, I started remembering some of the other mission trips I have been on. When our children were young, my husband and I determined that, if we had the resources to do so, we would make sure each of our children left United States soil at least once before they left our home. We felt it important for so many reasons. In the past five years, I have had the privilege to take my oldest daughter to Ukraine and my middle daughter to Guatemala. We saw God worked in an amazing way so that our whole family could go to Haiti. I feel so blessed to have been able to take these trips. Not only for the sake of my children, but for mine.

You see short-term mission trips, while definitely a blessing to those who are on the receiving end of our help and supplies, are perhaps an even bigger blessing to those of us who are on the giving end.

Why do I believe this?

Here are a few reasons–

1. We get out of our comfort zone. Oh, how so many of us love our comfort zones. So much so that many of us aren’t willing to go somewhere where we might be uncomfortable or hot or thirsty or have to work or can’t speak the language. It freaks us out and we exaggerate the awfulness of it all. But when we actually go, we see it isn’t so bad, after all.

2. It helps us gain perspective. If we live in the U.S. (or any other wealthy place) we can lose sight of the fact that the luxuries we take for granted are not worldwide. Taking a short-term trip shows us that there are actually people who live without computers (gasp!), cars, and running water. There is a whole world of people who have never been taught how to read or write. People that somehow make a plastic grocery bag full of rice and beans sustain their families for an entire month. There are children who live in institutions without the loving care of a family. Taking a mission trip opens our eyes to the real world that lies just outside our little sheltered place where we live most of our lives.

Let me add here that, while I believe we can find many places to minister here in the U.S. that will help us gain perspective, most countries do not have the welfare programs and government helps that we have here and so it is generally far worse conditions in many lands on this earth for those living in poverty.

3. It kindles our heart for the lost and renews our dedication to sharing the good news of the gospel both abroad and at home. Taking a trip reminds us of just how many people do not know the Lord personally. Many people have never even heard the gospel. Actually sharing the good news with lost souls is such a privilege. Sometimes we forget that in our day to day lives.

On one of my trips, I was one of the oldest team members and so I was the one they picked to actually sit down with the nationals and share the gospel, through an interpreter. I was so nervous. But I did it and it became more and more natural. And I was reminded that sharing the Lord with others isn’t as hard as I make it out to be.

4. We make incredible memories and new friends.  From the poignant to the crazy, memories abound on these trips. I remember vivid moments of frustration and fear. But I remember many more moments of satisfaction and joy. On each trip I made new friends, some of which I am still in touch with today.

5. We touch the lives of others. The photos above are all from my previous mission trips. Each one of these faces brings back beautiful memories. A connection of hearts was made, if even for the briefest moment. There are a few I still think of and occasionally pray for today–the beautiful young girl in a Ukrainian orphanage for the mentally handicapped, even though she didn’t seem to belong there; the energetic twin boys in Haiti who just loved my son; and the laughing, silly 2 year olds that I would spend my mornings with in Guatemala, helping to get them dressed for the day and giving them hugs. So many more encounters that I could fill up several pages worth (I won’t!) but as I write, my heart is filled with such thanksgiving that I was able to meet these precious souls, if even for just a few meager minutes of my life.

6. We have the opportunity to trust the Lord in the fearful moments and watch Him work. From how to raise the funds to go to some very frightening moments in airports, God has been so faithful to me through these trips. I honestly believe if we never take a risk we can never truly see Him work. Let’s face it, if we are average people in the first world, we have most of our needs and many of our desires met every day — food, water, clothing, and shelter are a given for most of us. Sure, we may have to choose ramen noodles over steak, but we aren’t starving. We rarely remove ourselves from this comfortable place to even be able to watch the Lord work. Of course, sometimes things beyond our control happen, such as accidents and diseases and we are thrust into that world quite suddenly. But a short-term mission trip is a way to give up a little control and quite purposely put your life in the Lord’s hands, if even for a week.

And so if you can find a trip, you should go! If the Lord’s been tugging at your heart about the trip with your church, then call today and get more details. If you heard about a trip a friend is going on and it keeps coming to mind, then do some checking online. But I would just encourage you, in keeping with my post yesterday, to make sure it is with an agency that keeps sharing the gospel as their number one priority.

Anyone can give food and shelter, but only Christians can give the life-giving water that changes lives for all eternity.

 

 

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