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Home again..

We are back and things went well. The weather was treacherous overnight and into this morning, so we were very glad we chose to travel last night. We almost didn't make it the 7 miles we needed to go today to be printed, but God carried us safely there on your prayers. Thank-you so much! :) Rod asked me later how many prayers I said in that short 7 miles. I couldn't remember. I'm pretty sure it all blurred into one long conversation with God.

A lot of you have asked what the process is to bring the kids home and what our expected timeline is. I haven't been avoiding this question by telling you we have no answers, we truthfully have no answers. The process we are working through is brand new and put into place for cases that are abandonments like our case is. As soon as I know more, I will gladly tell you. There just isn't anything more I can tell you at this point. :) I appreciate all the thoughts and questions. They never offend me at all, and I love it when people ask about the kids and what we are doing to bring them home. It truly warms my heart to know that you all care so deeply about these two. They are precious to me, but to realize that they are precious and loved by you? Wow. That one takes my breath away.



I can only say, please continue to pray. Pray for our path to become clear. Pray that the persons working in Guatemala are able to navigate this process and thank God that their heart is truly for the children. It is an amazing and awesome journey we are on and I thank God daily that we have been chosen to walk it.

And finally, please remember to pray for precious Abby. Our hearts are with the Riggs family today!!

Prayers...

Just a bit of things today.

First, to my "dear sister in Christ" who left a little something amazing in our church mailbox...GOD BLESS YOU!!!! You left me speechless and in tears. I never cease to be overwhelmed by the kindness of others on our journey. Thank-you from the bottom of our hearts. :)

Second, we are off to be re-fingerprinted. There was a huge mix-up with things, and we are needing to travel about 4 hours south to have them done tomorrow. I am asking for prayers for us as we go. We NEED to have them done by Friday or Ronaldo and Julia will not come home. It is not optional. Unfortunately, the weather in this neck of the woods is horrible. We are coming out of a blizzard last night with reports of heading back into one today. Because of that, we are taking off in a few minutes to stay overnight near where we need to be. PLEASE pray that we get there safely tonight and that nothing stands in the way of us being printed tomorrow. It is our last option and I have been trying very hard (but not very successfully) not to worry. Thanks in advance.

Finally, please keep sweet Abby Riggs in your prayers. Tomorrow this little peanut who has completely stolen many hearts, begins the hardest phase of her chemo. Because of an underlying condition, Abby has a hard fight ahead of her in order to kick this cancer's behind. She has a whole army of prayer warriors who will be on their knees for her this week. I would love it if you would stop by her blog and leave a little note of love for Abby. It would truly warm my heart to overwhelm her blog with prayers. :) And I know that her parents would love to see Abby's battle bring us all to the Throne in prayer.

God bless.

And thanks again.

Accountable...

Each time I come home from Guatemala, I find myself in a deep funk about two weeks after returning. I know that the deep sense of grief for my kiddos will come and I plan for it. I know the helplessness I will feel, and I know the anger that goes with it. This was, and always has been, Rod's biggest concern when I go. He hates to see me hurt so deeply, and to know that as a husband and father, he cannot fix it. It is something I work through with God and prayer.

This time I thought I was prepared.

But what I didn't anticipate, and what has kept me from blogging much here, is the overwhelming flood of feelings that immediately drowned me for the kids left behind.

It pulled me so far under that it took me until last week to be able to find my footing back and breathe air again. I went through the Holidays on auto-pilot, coping, but harboring the deepest grief I have ever known.

I was not able to share this pain with anyone. Not until just recently. Not because I didn't want to, but because I wasn't even sure what was so devastatingly difficult for my heart to process this trip. I've spent a lot of time just thinking and trying to understand what my head saw in Guatemala those short two days. It is something that I cannot put in a neat little box, wrap up with a bow, and store it away in a closet.

It needs to come out and be exposed in all it's naked ugliness, so that others will be inspired to "see" and to "understand". So that the "Joselin's" and the "Victor's" and the "William's" and the "Walter's" will not be just some face "out there" in a book or on a screen.

To have spent time with kids that have no one is to begin to understand the depth of evil and unfairness in this world, and it rocked me to my core.

But along with evil, God always plants goodness. The amazing heart of a dear friend named Julie. Someone who spends each year, from Christmas to Christmas, working towards the goal of bringing some joy to these kids for a few brief days. 365 days between, she is in essence, a long-distance mother to them. It is overwhelming to her. And still she selflessly pours her heart into their lives. One of God's blessings on earth.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

I see twenty, thirty pairs of shining black eyes look up when we enter. They question me and in them is the same sparkle that is in my daughter's Guatemalan eyes. Little girls giggle and watch in wonder as we bring in bags. We pass around treats. They all make sure that each one has one. A precious little bit of something. Young girls, care for the little ones. Their actions are tender and they look at me shyly. My heart wrenches. They can't be much older than my own girls.

Why?

The little ones cry and they go to eachother, or they cry alone. In a corner, far from searching eyes and laughter. I sit down. Immediately, I am surrounded by faces and hands. All wanting a touch, all wanting to be near someone if just for the moment. We are friends, if only for this brief moment. "God, help me," I pray, "this is not fair." I think of my little ones at home, loved and happy, and I can't put this all together. This is not right.

Why?

As I sit talking with a sweet child next to me, the soccer ball my son is playing with comes hurtling into my chest. It hits me so hard that it knocks the wind out of me. There is a sudden and deafening silence. I see my son's eyes and the eyes of his friends. What will I do? What will I say?

"It's ok" I tell them, "it didn't hurt. Keep playing." They stand, unsure. I repeat the same words. Smiling broadly. "I'm fine, just keep playing." They begin again, tentatively at first, and then with gusto.

Physically my heart stings, emotionally my heart shatters.

Why?

We go to see the animals. It has been a long day in the warm sun. It is afternoon and we have been here since morning. The children have had a can of pop, a small ziploc of chips, and a chicken leg. They are hot. They are tired. I see their weary faces. We pass a food stand near the animals. My children and the two with us, beg us silently with their eyes.

"I'm so hungry."

"I'm so thirsty."

We share what water and snacks we have with them. My son first asks if it is ok to give a snack to his friend. I choke back tears. I can see he is so hungry and thirsty. I nod quietly and look at Julie. Neither of us is doing so well. They are so grateful and it hurts. No child should have to be "so grateful" for a drink and a snack. It should be their right as a child.

Something in my heart is ripped beyond repair.

These are God's children.

His.

These children have no-one here on earth.

Why?

How do they do it? Day in and day out, knowing that they will grow up with no family?

They hold my hands. They smile shyly. I can't fathom it.

I think about my own girls at home and I can't imagine them without parents. They have so many questions, so many things to tell me daily, so much life. And I wonder how any of it is ok. I think of the evil that brings kids to a place like this and something screams inside my chest.

The nothing of it all.

I hold and I talk and I cuddle until it's time to say good-bye.

I am shattered for these, God's children.

God's precious children.

You and I can't do nothing.

We. Can't.

We are accountable to Him for these.

They are all our children.

Please do something.

*Global Orphan Team*

*Mayan Families*

*Helping Mayan Families*

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress...