Rocks In My Dryer

*UPDATED* Compassion Chat

*UPDATE AT THE END!*

This is going to be a long one, but stick with me to the end--there's some good info here.

I haven't written much about Compassion in the last couple of weeks, though it's not because they're any less on my heart.  Frankly, I wanted to speak to you more about their work, but I felt like you and I both probably needed a break from the intense emotion surrounding my trip. 

Life has returned to normal for me--or, at least, to the "new" normal.  I still find myself battling moments of frustration occasionally, though these days the frustration is more with myself than anyone around me.  I wonder, at times, if my life is reflecting the changes I want it to reflect?  Am I slipping into old thinking and old priorities?  God has been so faithful to drop me moments of encouragement at just the moments I need it. 

Like the e-mail I received yesterday.  I've actually received so many amazing e-mails from many of you about your own Compassion experiences--I could start a whole blog just excerpting your beautiful words.  But this one, from Suzanne, touched me so deeply I asked her if I could share a bit of it with you (the photo is of her Compassion child, Geofrey):

I am not a woman with much money. In fact, I have more debt than I have laundry. And with three kids with a penchant for sock wearing, that's really saying something, you know. But I knew....I JUST KNEW when I saw those pictures that I would have to sponsor a child. I would find the money somehow, somewhere. God doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called. I felt called to sponsor a kiddo. I picked a boy close to my own son's age. I didn't do it to make myself feel good, or to say "Oh look at me, I'm such a good person for doing this.." Not at all. I just heard God whispering to me. Probably much the same way he whispers to Geofrey, the litte boy I sponsored. Oh how I cried, clicking that button. I felt selfish for the merest of moments, thinking "I just clicked away $100 and I have debts to pay..." But then I felt peace, even knowing that yes, my debt will still be there, but a little boy will have his needs met. I felt like a momma, taking care of what needs to be done.

I myself am the mother of three kids with special needs. Each one different, but their difficulties range from Mental Retardation and Autism to speech delays. I have enough on my plate. But God whispered to me and said "Your heart is big even if your wallet is not."

Of course, stories like this are unbelievably touching.  However moved your heart may be, it's still always prudent good to ask questions before you get involved financially with any charity.  Several of you have sent me some good questions, and I'd like to address a few below.  (For a complete list of FAQ's, see the Compassion website.) I enlisted the help of my friend Brian Seay.  He's on the U.S. staff of Compassion, and he went along on our trip to Uganda (you can read his blog here).  I'm quoting him directly; his words are in blue, my own are in black.

First, read these rankings and reports from independent charity watchdog groups:

Charity Watch
Charity Navigator
Ministry Watch

Why does Compassion focus on individual child development rather than broader community development work?

[From the Compassion website] During Compassion's 50-plus years of development work, we've seen various approaches to breaking the cycle of poverty in children's lives. We've discovered that changed circumstances rarely change people's lives, while changed people inevitably change their circumstances.

Community development is important work that addresses the external circumstances of poverty and is an important complement to our work. However, our primary focus is individual child development—an inside-out, bottom-up approach that recognizes the God-given value and potential of each individual child. Many of these children grow up to become positive influences in their own communities.

Why is only one child per family sponsored?  Does this breed some resentment within families?  What about within villages, where you have some sponsored children and some who are not—is this an issue? 

The major reason for this is practical based on the number of children in need and the project/church capacity.  The belief of taking 1-3 children per family (it differs between countries) and limiting it there is based upon ministering to the greatest number of families possible.  If you don’t have a limit on number of children per family, the number of families reached dramatically decreases.  I suppose there is potential for resentment but the fact is that all members of the family benefit from Compassion (food, medical care, etc.) and many times the church is ministering in some way to the rest of the children. 

In Honduras last month I visited a new Compassion project that was only accepting young children because of their capacity and supplies.  So, the church began a ministry for the pre-teens and teens that was in addition to the Compassion project at the church.

How long does it take to get a letter to/from your child?

Two to three months.  The letter travels from your home to the office in Colorado Springs where it is read for content and packaged with other letters headed to the same country.  Once the letter arrives in the country it is translated and delivered to the appropriate project.

Our own letters with our four kids in Uganda have actually moved much faster than this--the turnaround time has generally been more like six to eight weeks.

Can I send clothes or toys directly to these kids?

The sheer cost of allowing packages to be sent to a Compassion child is staggering.  Not to mention the customs rules and charges in the different countries.  I know the intent is good on the part of the sponsor, but Compassion does not have the capacity in manpower or finances to handle this. 

Any sponsor can give three different kinds of gifts each year beyond their monthly involvement.  The birthday and Christmas gifts are used to buy items for the child and his/her family.  You can also give a ‘family gift’ with a maximum of $300 per year that goes directly to the family.  The country and project staff work directly with the family to asses the greatest need.  I have seen examples where the family gift fixed a roof, bought a goat, or helped with food and daily supplies.

When I was in Uganda, I learned that Compassion will occasionally partner with other reputable relief-type organiazations, as specific situations arise.  For example, they've worked directly with Samaritan's Purse to help with identifying children for Operation Christmas Child packages.

If you have a question not answered by the Compassion website, e-mail it to me, and I'll see if I can get it answered for you.

Before I wrap this up, let me introduce you to Christine.  She's seven years old, and she has six siblings.  She needs a sponsor, right now, today.  Let's not allow this sweet girl to go through one more weekend without somebody stepping in to meet her most basic needs.  Click here if you want it to be you.  If the link doesn't work, then--praise God!--that means someone has signed up for her!  (If it's you, e-mail me.)  *UPDATED TO ADD* Hooray!  In under two hours from the time of the original post, a reader nicknamed "Zoom" sponsored sweet Christine.  Zoom wrote to me:

I am childless.  One of my favorite scriptures is Isaiah 54.  "Sing O barren woman, you who never bore a child, burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor, "  the scripture goes on to say " enlarge your tent" and some interpretations say " many will be your children".  Christine can become my spiritual child, and for that I  thankful.  Our sweet God fills the needs of a childless woman and a child that live half a world away from each other.   What a blessing.

One last note to this marathon post:  if by any chance you're coming to the Aaron Shust concert in Broken Arrow, OK, tonight, I'll be working at the Compassion table handing out packets.  Come by and say hello!

Photoshoppin'

If you can't manage to take some good photos on a trip to Africa, with all the gorgeous views, the vibrant people, the vivid colors, and the huge skies, then there is no photographic hope for you.  I'm not a great photographer, but I had a lot to work with out there.

I came home and played around with some of my favorites on Photoshop.  The results were really fun:

This next one is my favorite.  I can't help but start humming "Circle Of Life" every time I see it:

   

She's Just Like You, Only Hairier and With Sharper Teeth

I believe I've mentioned one or two or 18 times that, at the end of our trip to Uganda last month, we went on a weekend safari.  It was the experience of a lifetime. 

It turns out that the big prize in a Ugandan safari is the chance to see a lion.  They're hard to spot.  Our guide told us that our particular lodge often went two weeks without a lion spotting. 

We saw ten.

Our first lion encounter was along the banks of the Nile.  A mother and her six young cubs yawned and rested sleepily in the grass, barely noticing us gaping at them a mere 50 feet away. 

As we stood there in our safari vans, watching the mother with her babies, I was struck at how universal the motherhood experience is.  Even across species, so much of what we do is getting our tribe from point a to point b without anyone forgetting their lunch money or getting sniped by big-game hunters.  You know, the usual stuff.

 

Poor girl.  I could totally relate.

(Gorgeous photos courtesy of Keely Scott.  Cheesy doctoring courtesy of me.)      

Score

Life is really hard when your mom goes to Africa. 

Dad takes you out to eat a whole bunch, your grandparents lavish attention on you, and your teachers go easy on you. 

But then your mom comes back, and you decide all that torture was worth it, because you now have the most rockin' Flat Stanley project in the history of the 3rd grade.

That's Flat Stanley, floating on the Nile River.  With hippos in the background.

For one brief, shining moment, I am Cool Mom.

Once Upon a Time There Was a Monkey Alarm...

Sophie and I went round and round for the 36-hour trip home regarding who would get to tell you this story.  She won, and I think you will see that the story was best served in her oh-so-skilled bloggy hands.  Head over and read it, but first make sure that your mouth (and bladder) are empty.

Show and Tell

Our time in Uganda was scheduled down to the minute, but our team was eager to carve out even a brief time to do some local shopping and buy gifts for our families back home.

On our last full day there, we were taken to a huge local craft market.  They dropped us off and said, "Okay, you have 45 minutes." 

Forty-five minutes.  (Clearly, this was planned by men.  While we're at it, why don't we do the Louvre in half an hour?)

So, after a brief lesson from our Ugandan host about how to haggle (and knowing full well I was going to stink at it), we frantically jumped in the fray at a break-neck pace.  Here's a little corner of market (you can click on any of these pictures to see them enlarged):

Oh my word.  If you think it's satisfying to shop for handmade, mom-made items in the U.S., just try it in Uganda.  I could've stayed there all day.

Below are a few of the things I came away with (several of the things I bought have already found their new homes with family members).

Here is an elephant for my son Adam, carved from teak wood:

Here's a doll for my daughter Corrie.  You can't see it in this photo, but there's a tiny baby strapped to the back of this momma, just the way the African mommas carry their little ones:

Here's a little djembe (prounounced JEM-bay) drum for my Joseph:

And an undungu (pronounced un-DOON-goo) for Stephen:

The fact that I bought my two noisiest sons NOISE-MAKING ITEMS should tell you how out-of-my-mind lonesome I was for them.

Next is a cross carved out of teak wood (Sophie bought an identical one).  I adore this.  The second photo provides a little more detail:  there is a dove in the center, with hands making up the rest of the cross.  In my own mind, I've worked this out to symbolize the Holy Spirit (dove) enabling us (the hands) to share the love of Christ (the cross itself).  Not bad for someone on malaria drugs, eh?

This next one is my absolute favorite.  It's a nativty scene, woven entirely out of banana husk.  It especially struck me, because the day we were out in the village, we saw lots of mothers sitting under the tree weaving items out of these husks.  This is one of the common ways mothers make toys for their children.  I love this so much I plan to leave it out year round, not just at Christmas:

Our shopping trip took place immediately after I met our sponsor child, Dissan.  I saw this next little figurine, carved from soap stone, and I thought of him.  I bought it, brought it home, and I've put it on my kitchen windowsill.

I think of that sweet boy every time I every see it.

      

 

Unfogging

I love y'all.  I really do.

The comments you made on my post yesterday (as well as the private e-mails many of you sent) have been a bigger encouragement than I could possibly tell you.  Thank you, thank you.  I urge everyone to read through those comments, when you have time, because there are some seriously wise women out there in bloggy-land.  How'd you get so smart?

The truth is, while there are plenty of foggy, anguished moments like the one I wrote about yesterday, there are some very sweet moments as well, moments in which I feel God bringing some things into beautiful clarity.

My emotional response is to sell everything I own and move to Uganda and disdain America, etc.  The less-glamorous reality is that there really is much I can do here.  I've hesitated to say it, because it kind of sounds like a cop-out--but there is something to be said for the "givers", the people in America whose life situation is such that they can give, and give, and give to those doing the work in the field.  One of the things I most love about Compassion is that they're not an organization of Westerners swooping in to "rescue" the locals.  They're a funding arm that empowers the locals to rescue themselves.  Big difference.

(And by the way, I know my FAQ on Compassion details is long-overdue.  I'm working on it, I promise.)

Furthermore, God offers grace and compassion to wealthy, misguided Americans, too.  Shouldn't I?  The blindness caused by too much stuff can be a very powerful trap (oh-have-mercy, I'm speaking from experience).  African children aren't the only ones who need deliverance--rich people do too.

Still furthermore (I'm on a roll, baby!), I think it's important for us to acknowledge that God is not limited, but we humans are.  My husband and I feel very convicted to determine very specifically what God is calling us to do right now--we want to follow Him with maximum obedience.  But when we're doing that--when we're faithfully obedient to do what He's leading--there is great freedom to rest and live in joy.  There is room to gratefully and humbly laugh with my kids and love on my husband.  Dare I say it?  I think there's even room to enjoy my hot showers and my Sam's Club lasagna and my Lost. 

Reader Sherry shared the most wonderful quote (thank you, Sherry!):

Since you cannot do good to all, you are to pay special attention to those who, by the accidents of time, or place, or circumstances, are brought into closer connection with you.

- St. Augustine of Hippo

I have officially gotten off my duff.  I'm not sure yet what my life will look like in six months or ten years, but I know Who does.  Both in the fog and out of it, I'm going to take it a step at a time, knowing that my comfort zone will likely get smashed a few more times. 

Get off your duffs with me, my friends!  You can start right here.  If you haven't stepped outside your comfort zone lately, I'll tell you, the view from here is pretty fine. 

How Do I Do This?

Some days I'm waking up feeling a spark of "normalcy" returning to my life.  The pieces begin to fall into place.

And then some days I wake up so overwhelmed, so paralyzed by what I've seen and what I should do about it, that putting one foot in front of the other takes effort.

Guess which one today is?

I don't know how to do this.  That's the frantic phrase that's been echoing around in my head and heart these last few days.  I've prayed it, I've said to my husband, I've even said it aloud when I'm alone in my house.  I don't know how to do this.

I don't know how to fit my new heart and head back into my life.

I feel angry--angry at anyone who doesn't "get it", angry at American culture for being so excessive, angry at myself for being a part of the problem.  It's a self-righteous anger, not the productive kind.  It's gotten me in such a twist that I find myself avoiding friends so I won't have to explain myself. 

It's a strange kettle of fish.  I traveled to the other side of the world to see poverty that boggles the mind.  I came home, ready to tell my story, ready to change the world.

But guess what?  Someone still has to run to the grocery store for milk and eggs.  Someone still has to pay the overdue fine on the library book.  Someone has to carpool to soccer.  I'm doing it.  But I'm doing it in a fog. 

I don't believe it is right for me to plop back into my world with this sudden disdain for everything around me.  It's self-righteous, and it is the opposite of grace.  God made me a 21st-century American, with all that entails.  He has work for me to do, right here.  I just have to figure out what that looks like.  How, specifically, is it different from the life I was living before?  We were already committed to a pretty frugal, no-frills lifestyle.  Is that enough?  Do we sell it all and move to the ghetto?  Do we work harder and earn more, so we'll have more to give?  How do we best honor the One who has given us such abundance? 

I don't know how to do this.

How do I teach my children what I'm learning without giving them "survivor's guilt"?  How do I respond with graciousness and compassion--not indignance--when I see such waste all around me?  How do I keep these lessons fresh on my heart?  Do I really want it to get easier with time? 

I don't know how to do this.

But one way or another, I have to.

Works For Me: Our Compassion Notebook

So, we have three more Compassion kids now.  In addition to our boy Dissan, we've also added Esther, Abraham and Joseph--all from Uganda. 

We want to do this well.  We want our communication with our kids to be consistent.  And someday, when I meet them (and I will!  One of these days--I so want to go back!), I want to have a big stack of their letters to show them how much they meant to our family.

So this week, I got organized.  I found an old three-ring binder laying around, and I hole-punched our information on each kid.  I made dividers--one section for each child, so we can keep the letters from them separate.  I had some blank address labels left over from Christmas cards, so I made several with the address for sending in sponsor letters.  I even filled the back of the binder with blank notebook paper, making it even easier to write regularly.

Have a WFMW tip you'd like to share with the blogosphere?  Leave your link below.  Remember to look through the guidelines, especially if this is your first time to participate.  **Next week is another Backwards Edition of WFMW, so get ready to post your toughest questions for your readers!**

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Biblical Womanhood (cleaning your combs and brushes the easy way!) 261. Kirstin: Making Sports Family Friendly 262. What About Mom? (pizza, pizza, calzone!) 263. Carrie (Homemade Hot Cocoa) 264. Miriam (Unstuffy Classical Music) 265. Sarah (homemade BBQ sauce) 266. Totallyscrappy (Beautiful Brownies) 267. Kim - Organizing Recipes On Your Computer 268. Lynley (Toddler Sleep Issues) 269. Jen (getting rid of rust stains) 270. Ashley (Great eye make-up remover) 271. Building the Ark (Almost Sleepover Party) 272. Mammarino (Leaky Diaper Fix) 273. April(kid friendly soap containers) 274. Cayce (I\'m New!) 275. Ranee @ Arabian Knits (Doubling Recipes) 276. Tara (swaddler blankets) 277. Jacquelyn "Because I Said So!" ($100 PRIZE!!!) 278. Sandi (popcorn on the stove) 279. Danna 280. Danna(painting quilt) 281. Starr LaPradd

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Sweet Dreams

I've been on Malarone for a while now--it's an anti-malarial drug.  Even though I'm home now, I have to continue it for a full two weeks, just to be safe. 

One of its side effects is personality disorder, which I seem to have escaped (unless you ask my husband.  Please don't.)

But one of the side effects I have experienced has been really vivid, strange dreams.  If you are the sort who feels the need to analyze every element of your dreams, Malarone would rock your world. 

Last night, snug in my bed, I dreamed that I learned that Hubs and I had been married by a preacher who wasn't licensed, so we weren't actually married.  We set out to right this wrong by planning another wedding.  But we felt like we needed to do it in 48 hours, so we were really busy.  We called and informed (not asked) our dear friends who have a beautiful backyard with a pool that we would be using their yard for the ceremony, and could they please hire a lifeguard because we wanted our children to be able to swim while we said our vows. 

Evidently if your nine-year-old son does a canonball during the "to love and cherish" part, it really seals the deal.

Anyway, I called Shaun Groves and asked him to do the music, which he said he would do, but only if he could play old early '80's church camp music.

Evidently if the crowd sings "I Have Decided To Follow Jesus" during the "kiss the bride" part, you're hitched for good.

Then (and, by the way, kudos to those of you who have managed to stick with this post), I decided to do all the catering myself, so I prepared a bathtub-sized vat of chicken salad.  And then, taking a break from our preparations, we decided to go have lunch with our old friend Jimmy Buffett (yes, JIMMY BUFFETT).  As we ate lunch (chicken salad, of course), Jimmy showed us the pirate costume he brought for Hubs to wear in our wedding.  And Hubs was just thrilled about this and put it on right away. 

Because evidently if your prospective groom shows up wearing large hoop earrings and a skull-and-crossbones cap on your wedding day, then your wedded bliss is assured.

And that's it.  Chicken salad, pirate grooms, and my illegitimate children doing the dog paddle, all in one night.  Personality disorder?  Not me.