Not quite 2 years ago, Dan and I got our lives wrecked by the "idea" that we weren't following Scripture. I know, I know... we were 'good' Christians, but we often overlooked a rather "big" concept in the Bible- taking care the least of these. Now, don't get me wrong... we are also good, liberal, love the unlovable, pay for the unpayable Democrats, too, so sometimes it was easy to justify our non-involvement by looking at all the causes we support and feeling like we were helping that way. And, for what it's worth, Dan has made his career around caring for the least of these medically. So on one hand, we were doing well. But when the least of these is referred to in Scripture, it often accompanies the ORPHANS and the WIDOWS.
Um, crap.
We got nothin' there.
Well, again, in his defense, Dan takes care of lots of them medically, so we're good, right? Whew. (That was close. It was almost like I was gonna have to change my comfortable life of something!)
Gradually as the people I was living life with started finding where they were supposed to be serving, I started feeling antsy. I shared recently at our church a journal entry where I hashed this out in January of this year. I was journaling that I was jealous the people around me had found their calling- to adopt, to move to Africa, to serve at the Food Pantry, to serve at the Street School... where was my mission, God? I mean, come on... I am certain I am one of your favorites down here, so why hadn't You given me some radical way to live?
Watch out now, people... prayers like those come back with mighty answers.
Most of you have heard how I got over myself to come to terms with the fact that, yes, it's our turn to do Foster Care. I have ignored it as long as I can... now it's time to get in the trenches and love on those children. A friend of mine and I have talked about the struggle to figure out of foster kids should be lumped in with "orphans"... technically, they are not. We have come to understand that we are doing our part to keep those kids from becoming orphans. In fact, my friend James (who we ran into on the flight to Ethiopia!) said that foster care is like the "Navy Seals of orphan care". I dig it.
So, again, whew. Glad to know that we can check "The Least of These" off our list. (sidenote: this is said with all sarcasm... I am in no way making light of the journey we are getting ready to undertake. I am prayerfully both excited and massively overwhelmed with what we'll encounter a month from now!)
That leaves the whole concept of widows. Hmmm. Dern. We don't know too many of those. Well, we did begin work on getting our downstairs room ready for visitors- short term or long term. Maybe my Dad would qualify as a widow-er if he were to come stay with us? That would be taking care of him, right?
Sit back, y'all....
On our 3rd day in Rwanda, we met up for dinner with Fidele, the attorney in Kigali who took care of my friends' adoptions and serves as a full-time minister as well. He is one of FOUR people in Rwanda with his PhD in Law. Four. 4. Seriously. We enjoyed hearing him tell us a bit about his life, tell us about his day where he'd successfully gotten "us" to pass court, and hearing him talk about his ministry at his church.
Involving pens.
Um, crap.
We got nothin' there.
Well, again, in his defense, Dan takes care of lots of them medically, so we're good, right? Whew. (That was close. It was almost like I was gonna have to change my comfortable life of something!)
Gradually as the people I was living life with started finding where they were supposed to be serving, I started feeling antsy. I shared recently at our church a journal entry where I hashed this out in January of this year. I was journaling that I was jealous the people around me had found their calling- to adopt, to move to Africa, to serve at the Food Pantry, to serve at the Street School... where was my mission, God? I mean, come on... I am certain I am one of your favorites down here, so why hadn't You given me some radical way to live?
Watch out now, people... prayers like those come back with mighty answers.
Most of you have heard how I got over myself to come to terms with the fact that, yes, it's our turn to do Foster Care. I have ignored it as long as I can... now it's time to get in the trenches and love on those children. A friend of mine and I have talked about the struggle to figure out of foster kids should be lumped in with "orphans"... technically, they are not. We have come to understand that we are doing our part to keep those kids from becoming orphans. In fact, my friend James (who we ran into on the flight to Ethiopia!) said that foster care is like the "Navy Seals of orphan care". I dig it.
So, again, whew. Glad to know that we can check "The Least of These" off our list. (sidenote: this is said with all sarcasm... I am in no way making light of the journey we are getting ready to undertake. I am prayerfully both excited and massively overwhelmed with what we'll encounter a month from now!)
That leaves the whole concept of widows. Hmmm. Dern. We don't know too many of those. Well, we did begin work on getting our downstairs room ready for visitors- short term or long term. Maybe my Dad would qualify as a widow-er if he were to come stay with us? That would be taking care of him, right?
Sit back, y'all....
On our 3rd day in Rwanda, we met up for dinner with Fidele, the attorney in Kigali who took care of my friends' adoptions and serves as a full-time minister as well. He is one of FOUR people in Rwanda with his PhD in Law. Four. 4. Seriously. We enjoyed hearing him tell us a bit about his life, tell us about his day where he'd successfully gotten "us" to pass court, and hearing him talk about his ministry at his church.
The "Bio Kids" I got to spend lots of time with:
Aubrey, Carter, and Amelia
Dinner at Sole Luna
The "small serving" of wine we ordered. Whoops.
The view from Sole Luna- Kigali at night
Some of the best pizza I've ever eaten!
During dinner, Fidele asked John to give a greeting at his church on Sunday. I, too, offered my services (because I am fuuunnnny!) and after the second offer, Fidele turned to me and spoke words which would change my life. After telling me what he believed God had told him about me (which was dead on, and I'm happy to share with you in a more "private" setting than on my blog) he asked if I could help him with a new ministry.
Involving pens.
PENS.
That were "made" by women who are HIV positive.
And are widows.
Check, please.
(Part two, coming soon.)
3 comments:
Cool! Can't wait to hear more!
I am dying to get the private story. DYING. Oh my goodness!
Looking forward to hearing part 2!
Can the private story be delivered via FB message? I don't live near you and now you have hold of me like a series of novels... you are going to interfere with life tasks such as laundry, dishes. You know, the kind of obsession that makes you dig into each new chapter knowing you'll just do the same with the next. Foster care... sigh. Such desire for the future, such reservations... And with the office supplies... we are kindred spirits!!! :0)
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