To Go or Stay

Aside from a one credit class I had to take in college (we went to a Chinese buffet for our final) I have not studied mission-ology. I do not claim to be an expert. I have been blessed to be part of  missions trips both foreign and domestic. I also had the opportunity to represent my organization and lead several short term teams in India. I have seen and participated on short term missions teams that have done more for The Kingdom in 10 days then have been done in 10 years. I have also lead/participated teams that have soured a communities thirst for the gospel. Below are my (rather long) observations on how to make a short term missions trip one of the former and not the latter.

Pray

It may be the most overused term in Christian lingo but it doesn't make it any less true. You aren't going to go to The Amazon without your mosquito repellent and you certainly aren't going to go into battle without your armor. If you read nothing else in this blog READ THIS; Satan hates you and your mission. It doesn't matter if you are going for 10 days or 10 years the devil will stop at nothing to stop you from being the hands and feet of Jesus. I believe that missionaries are some of the most vulnerable Christians to Satan's most viscous  attacks. They are out of their comfort zones, exhausted with jet lag and covered in strange painful rash. Easy targets for discouragement, gossip among teams and selfishness. Just because you are on a mission from God doesn't mean that the things you struggle with at home stays at home. In fact in these magnified experiences your weaknesses become magnified. Pray against these things both for yourself and with your team. Pray and ask God for guiding wisdom in where to go and how He wants you to proceed. Pray for the organization you are going to serve alongside, that you would know how to serve them well.  Pray that even before you know where you are going that He would be preparing your heart for what He has planned. Ask that the entire journey from filling out and application to coming home to your first hot shower in two weeks would glorify Him. Ask others to pray with and for you. They, in a sense, will be going on the journey with you. It takes an army.

Research

This can come in many forms. First research the organization you are serving with. One of the biggest concerns in the anti-short term mission camp is that STMs can cause a lot of irreparable damage for natives in other countries. For example if you felt God calling you to witness to the penguins in Antarctica for 2 weeks and so you got on a southbound plane. When you step off the plane you are surrounded by curious penguins wondering what in the world you are. As you are observing them you realize that the penguins have to work really hard to get fish. You decide after being there for 2 days you are going to build a big fish tank so the penguins don't have to work so hard to eat. Nice of you. The penguins love it and you bored a northbound plane with a full satisfied heart. However, while you are back home on your nice comfy couch the fish tank runs out of fish. The penguins have forgotten how to fend for themselves and starve. You, with all your good intentions and love in your heart, have created a catastrophe. Go with an organization that is native, rooted in the community. A hospital or a church that will be there long after you have gone home. This builds a strong foundation for the relationships that you build to continue and be fruitful. Locals know how to best reach and serve the locals. Plus they can enrich your cultural experience with their knowledge of the area. Make sure you agree and comply with the organization mission/values/goals. Don't go because what they are doing or where they are sounds cool. In order to really serve you have to be able to work with them.
Speaking of culture, research it before going. I am all for adventure but culture shock is real and hard. Whether it be from an American Indian reservation or an African hut, you will feel it in some form. Some people can get stuck in it and end up having it ruining their whole trip. Gain a basic knowledge of what daily life, religion, bathroom practices (you laugh until you realize that it is perfectly normal for men to pee on the side of the road in India) etc. are like in the places you are going. You will still face shock but with research of this new definition of "normal" you can absorb and enjoy the experience more.
Research the place you are going to. I once went on a short term missions trip to Arizona in March. For some reason (I blame nursing midterms...) I packed thinking it was going to be warm spring weather. Like Disney World. Turns out the ministry was on these high platues with whipping wind daily. And there was snow. Needless to say I was freezing for most of the week.

Pack
For all the traveling I have done this is my very least favorite thing (besides unpacking) about going some place. Ugh, if someone ever wants to take this stress from me on my next trip be my guest. Needless to say I have had my share of packing fails (see above). I also tend to be a "what if" packer. Thoughts like "What if Uganda suddenly gets hit with a Polar Vortex? Then I will need this winter parka!" are constantly running through my head. Once you know where you are going  and what you are doing pull everything out and put it in a pile.(Most organizations give you a list of ideas of what to pack/not pack)  Pray for wisdom and guidance. Then pack half of it. Trust me. 

You are already to viewed as extremely wealthy. True or not you were able to stop work for a week, get on an airplane and bring a suitcase that you pay someone else to carry because it is too heavy for you. Most people in the world (including America) earn just enough to get by each day and never leave the place they were born. It can be hard to minister effectively when all people see are the material things you bring with you.
This is not to say that you have to look like a slob for two weeks. Dress appropriately but comfortably. Know the electrical situation. Most countries have different electrical wattage then the US. So either you are going to fry your blow dryer or blow out the fuse for the entire house every time you turn on your curling iron. When you pack ask if what you are packing will make your ministry more effective. Remember this is about serving God, not about you. Represent yourself, and your organization well.

Go Local
When in Rome..... Seriously good advice. Don't expect to get on an airplane fly over the Pacific Ocean for 10 hours and expect to land in America. Not everyone in the world speaks English or has had a McDonald's french fry. Sad, I know. I have watched too many people ruin missions trips by saying things like "this place needs such and such from America", "this wouldn't happen in America" or "I wish they would do this like we do in America". For this season you are not an American, you have left that behind you and you are entitled to nothing. God has called you as His child to love and serve them in their home. Embrace it, learn from it, love it.
Act culturally appropriate. Maybe the best way to illustrate this is with the example of gender roles. In most countries in the world women and men are not viewed as equals Men have jobs/responsibilities that only men can do. Women have things only women can do. Never the two shall meet. As unfair and uncomfortable it may be, respect it. You are only there for two weeks, you are not going to change the cultural mindset in that time. Know what these rules are before you go and help out your organization by following them as best you can. When my parents came to rural India they couldn't hold hands when they walked down the street. Odd but you can handle it. 
Ladies, dress appropriately. In India women can't show their ankles, they wear long shirts that cover their bottoms and shoulders, and a scarf across their fronts. I was stopped and pulled aside a few times as my Indian ayah's corrected what I was wearing. I had ladies on teams brought to me to help explain that what they were wearing was negatively effecting their ministry. This is not the time to exert your independence with your sense of style. American women in India are preconceived as being "loose" and welcoming of unwanted attention (thanks Hollywood). Dressing in Punjabi's and Sari's gives a clear "No!" to those who need it. Don't be offended, just fix it. It is fun to wear something different. Wearing brightly colored and flowing Indian clothes for a year taught me there is beauty in femininity. Embrace it. We all have fun playing dress up once in awhile.
Respect the Christian culture as well. If Christan in the ministry don't play cards, don't play go fish for two weeks. If women cover their heads in church, ladies follow suit. Get out of your comfort zone in relation to worship. Pray in English while everyone else prays in another language. Your concept of an all knowing, all present, God will be blown to bits. Awesome 
Eat local, as much as possible. For most cultures in the world food is a gathering point. You are viewed as a guest and people want to serve you their best local dishes. This is how relationships are formed and how ministry is shared. To refuse an invitation to dine is considered very rude and hurtful to those you are trying to love (note: I am not talking about if the food makes you physically sick. They will understand that) One time when I was in Taiwan two new friends of ours wanted to take us out to eat at their favorite restaurant. It turned out to be this hole in the wall restaurant that doubled as a fishery. The food was horrible and the smell of raw fish was in my nose for days. But the two friends were so excited to be eating a meal with us that I wouldn't have passed it up for the world. (Side note since then I have eaten some of the best food ever in "hole in the wall" places. Just not fisheries....)  Find things you like. Take small portions if you can. Use your best judgement, if the locals are all eating there try it! Pray against food borne illness and enjoy the experience. You are never in your life going to taste better chicken curry then what my Hyderabad cooking auntie makes. If you dive in you may find you enjoy something more then McDonald's (not to mention that Micky D's overseas is extremely expensive!).
From your native contact, learn 5 words or phrases in the native language. I cannot tell you how much I have been blessed from this trick. I know about 3 phrases/words in Hindi total. They all have to do with food (shocker!). When I was eating dinner with my parents in Jaipur, India I tried them out on the waiter at our hotel. He was tickled pink. For the rest of the time he was pointing out things and telling me names. One of the most fun meals in a restaurant to date! It doesn't matter that you butcher words, people know when you are really trying. It goes a long way in showing love but attempting to cross a language barrier.

Love Well
As strange as this sounds, this can be really really hard. Especially with culture shock, jet lag, and sickness thrown in. Expect the unexpected, is the mindset to be in. I once was paired with a team who had come to India to serve in a particular area of ministry. But for one week that ministry sent them to serve with us. We were in desperate need of a deep clean. So we asked the team to spend 3 hours every day for 4 days to give every inch of the house a through clean. They bulked and told me that this was not the ministry they were called to. Needless to say the entire week was a very painful disaster. When you sign up to be follow Jesus calling to missions you submit your will to whatever He has planned. This is true adventure. Submit your will, find joy in the freedom of not being in control, serve well. Even if you spend two weeks cleaning toilets do it with joy as you think of how nice it is for someone to have a clean bathroom. You may never hear a thank you but I promise with a good heart attitude you will leave far more blessed then you came.
Don't bad mouth the organization, even if you don't agree 100% with them. Don't undermine their ministry. If you go down the street handing out $100 bills to everyone you see, then the locals associate foreigners and that ministry with handing out $100 bills. Not the gospel. The organization will be there after you are gone and you may have just ruined their chances with the community in which they live.
Be fully present in your ministry. Know that for all the work you do to prepare to go, the organization has done double to prepare for you insuring that you have everything you need. Thank them.
 Find Jesus in everyone you meet, cover everyone in prayer, physically touch people (if culturally appropriate!), tell them they are loved both with your words and with your actions.

Share
Aka that scary phrase be vunerable. Share your faith and the reasons you are doing this crazy thing with people before you leave home. Share yourself with your team, good and bad.You will be a more effective team. Share yourself and your faith with every single person you meet during your ministry. Even without words. Share with yourself in a journal. It is a blessing to look back over later. Share yourself, your faith and your stories when you come back home. The people that sent you, whether financially or prayerfully, went with you too. It may be hard to explain what God did in two weeks. He is so awesome that it can leave you speechless. Tell them that. Spread the joy. Tell them if it was the hardest two weeks of your life. Find someone who can just sit and listen to you process, or write it out. It won't happen overnight and you may never fully understand all that happened to you or all that God is doing in the ministry. Know that's ok. You have been changed. Radiate it.

Pray
Sound familiar? It probably needs to be posted somewhere in the middle of this very long blog too. Pray for the organization you served with. Pray blessings, protection, and wisdom over them. Pray for the brothers and sisters in Christ you left behind. Follow up with them if you can. Thank God for the experience. Ask Him how He wants you to use this experience to move forward. Pray that He would use this time and you to further His kingdom.

 
 

Stay and Wait

Being home has been nothing like I thought. Sure sometimes the Telugu word comes out before the English one; I waiver between putting money on the counter (India) and handing it to the cashier (America); and I am discovering that I am hording $1 bills, because you never know when you need change for autos.
But for the most part American life fits like a glove. I remembered, without incident, how to drive, I love wearing American clothes and eating American food. All the things I dreaded and feared about coming back to American life has turned into nothing. Including one I didn't ever expect. I always thought the most dreaded question would be, "How was your year/trip?" (still not a great question but.) Surprisingly, for me, the most dreaded question is "How is it to be home?" For I have discovered that I don't know where "home" on this earth is and I am not sure I want to find out.
My all time favourite quote by C.S. Lewis comes from The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe,

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

When I first read this quote back in college it meant that no matter what situation, good or horrible, was going on around me God was still sovereign. His plans are and always will be perfect, even if I never see it for myself.
But over the past few years I have come to see something else in this quote and a question formed in my mind. If Jesus (The King) didn't live a "safe" life why should I? It became a sort of mantra for my life.
Safe is a synonym for complacency, not following when God calls us to "Go!" (which I have learned does not always mean moving from point A to B but another time...) Some call living "unsafe", living in abandonment, others (World Racers/Seth Barnes) call it "wrecked for the ordinary". All meaning that once you start living a life outside of yourself for Christ and the Kingdom, you cannot go back.
Moving to India was me following Jesus and living "unsafe". It was clear, direct, crazy and the decision came with an incredible peace. And I am not bragging saying look at me, do what I did. Because following Jesus didn't always mean riding elephants and rocking babies to sleep. To be blunt, there were days, minuets and hours that just plain sucked. Days when I literally thought of packing everything up and moving back to "safe". But when you spend that much time flat on your face completely and totally unable to do a single solitary thing on your own while all the while miracles happen all around you and in spite of you, you lose your taste for "the ordinary".
Then the day came and I was plucked from the still spinning tornado that is SCH (I love them but 130 children=tornado) and placed gently back into tranquil Illinois life. And something happened that has never happened to me before. For the first time in my life I don't know what is next. I don't know what "safe" is any more. Is safe going back to my India family? Or is safe starting over as a nurse here in America? Is unsafe leaving one set of family, friends, community to go to another? Or is it simply staying put?
I knew that I would come back from India changed and it may be that my single greatest challenge of living "unsafe" is to stay and wait.

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

The rest of the Q&A

How will you leave the children?
The only way I know how to. The same way I left everyone and everything in my American home; With lots of tears but with peace in my heart, in the hands of their heavenly Daddy.

Will you be going back/why don't you stay?
These are some of the hardest questions for me to answer and, I think, for people to hear. As of right now I don't have any plans to return to SCH. While I need to go home to rest physically, mentally, emotionally and recharge spiritually I don't have a concrete one reason why after that I am not returning.
Part of me feels like I am completing this journey in reverse. When I left America last May people were asking me, "What will you be doing in India?" and "Why are you giving up everything to go for an entire year?" I didn't have an answer to the first question then and I don't have an answer to the same question as I come back to America. In answer to the second question then, was that I am a disciple of Christ and that where he leads me I will follow. As Sarah akka says, "The cloud is moving." As a Christian the answer to the second question, I feel, answers all others and it is the one that brings me peace.
I love my kids, SCH, and India. I am leaving (I think...) with blessings on my journey forward. If I am lead back I will come running.

How many times have you gotten diarrhea?
India's actually call this "motions". And disclaimer, for people like my grandmother, it was an long time nurse tech and an RN (congrats Micah!!) asking this question. We nurses are very transparent about bodily functions.
I have actually only had one day of stomach "issues" in the past year. Glory be to God. Considering some of the food stalls I frequent...well...lets just say I didn't take my mama to them. (but sometimes the most questionable places have the best food.) Nothing beats Indian "street food".
I have, however, acquired every conceivable respiratory tract infection imaginable (minus pneumonia and Legionnaires disease but there is still time...). I thought that since I have worked in a nursing home and a hospital I would have built up all the immunities to this stuff. Children, it seems, bring a whole new ballgame. Oh, and skin infections. I've got those covered too (nothing new there though. Right mama?).

I am sure there are more questions that no body asked but they will have to wait...last blog from this side of the ocean. But there will be more from the other side ;-)

Hyderabad from our roof above the roof.

On Going Home

When I moved to Hyderabad in January I was a foster mama to 7 children, tomorrow morning our 16th (give or take) will come home. Nearly all of my kids have come to us with the fight of their lives ahead of them. I have started giving them a little spiel whispered in their ear on their first day with us, it goes something like this.
         Hi Baby! Welcome home! First and foremost we want you to know that you are a child of the KING.  Know that if you have any ounce of a will to fight to live we will do everything in our power to give you the quality of life you deserve. But if you simply need a place to rest in love until Daddy takes you home that's ok too. We will cuddle you and lavish you with kisses until such time comes.We want you to know that simply because you exist you are already so loved.
      On the day Anuragini (Ella) came to us we got a phone call an hour before she arrived that this baby had likely Trisomey 18 (Edwards Syndrome).We get these children from the government because they have been labled as kids that "are not going to make it". Every one of my kids has come with this label. You get a little bit proud after awhile thinking, ha! just you wait and see what we can do. But Anu was different. We can seek treatment from the best of the best for physical aliments but with genetic disorders you can be king of the world and no one can help you.  Before she came in the door I went to my room and immediately consecrated this chinna papa to God saying, Father, just help us to love her well. Weather it be for 1 day or for 100 years. Help us love her as your daughter.
           Well she lived through week one just beating one doctors expectations after another and we decided to start treating Anuragini as if she was going to live a long life. We took her specialists who discovered that she didn't have Edwards Syndrome (although no one could tell us what she had, Anu preferred to remain mysterious). To top it all off she gained weight from 1.3 kg to 1.5kg (ounces matter in Ella's word). She wasn't here at SCH to rest but to fight I was certain she was going to make it.
           But I had relinquished my claim on her. I had consecrated to her Daddy from day one, for His specific will and purpose in her life. And today His will was that Anuragini come Home to be with Him.
         Anuragini is  really the first of "my" children that I have had to give back to heaven. I was her mama here on earth. While I ache to have my little 'roo back in her pouch under my shirt safe and warm my heart is not heavy. I think it is because she never really was mine to keep and from day one I knew that. I am filled with a peace that one day I will see my little lady in heaven where I will lavish kisses on her soft downy head and marvel at her tiny tiny ears.

           I am nervous about coming back to America. More nervous then I ever was about coming to India. Mainly because of days like today. I have buried three children since moving to India. Far less then Sarah akka or my co-foster mother Cassie but more then  anyone I know back home. I don't know how to explain the death of a child to you and most of you don't know how to relate to someone who has gone through that. You can't unless you have been there. Go ahead and ask, it is now part of who I have become. I am just asking you to be patient with my responses, this re-entry process is going to be a learning experience for all of us. Thank you for journeying with my on the crazy good days and the horribly bad ones.

Anuragini is a Hindi name meaning Beloved.

(Both photos taken by Anu's very talented "aunt" Nikki)

 

I don't know how Anu died. But I do know that the last words she heard on this earth from someone who loved her was the wispers I leave with all my children in the hospital....

 

                       Nanu nenu praimistunanu (I love you)

                                  Yesu Yesu Yesu ne prema (Jesus, Jesus, Jesus loves you)



I have surrendered to Your design

What has been the single most important thing that has happened to you this past year?
Oh Ben, this question...leave it to you.  I think that as I go into "re-entry" in America (like that WRers?) and processes this past year, the answer might change. So it might be a blog that I rewrite later. But for now..
I came to India as a 25-year-old registered nurse with no paediatric experience and absolutely no interest in being a mother. I am leaving India as a "head" nurse who has been helping to oversee the medical care of 120 (?) children and  young adults; a co-foster mother to (currently,) 15 children (it can change daily); and as a "foreign sister" (the responsibility of which cannot be explained or understood unless you are/have been one).
I think maybe the best way to sum it all up is to say that I have become a matron. For those of you unfamiliar with the British English term the dictionary definition is as follows, "a woman in charge of domestic and medical arrangements at a boarding school or other institution." (Thanks to my English "Uncle" Dave, for adding this word into my American vocabulary.)
It is a title that I would have never in a million years imagined for myself when I set out on this adventure. Matron means that I cannot simply be an "akka" (sister). The title carries with it a responsibility here that, at times, has nearly smashed me under it's weight. While some would boast about being in charge, there has been more then one day when I have tried to hand in my resignation (thankfully, unsuccessfully). Matron is a title that daily reminds me that I cannot do this unaided by The Master. It has forced me to endure, to overcome and to truly learn and live out the meaning of "it's not about you."
With all the negatives being a matron has brought an indescribable joy. It has given me the opportunity to be involved in every aspect of life here at SCH.  Being a nurse matron has made me a better RN. I fight harder and research longer in order to get the very best for my patients. I don't ever get to hang up my nursing cap for the day.  It has forced me to remain true to my commitment to being a "life long learner".   Becoming a matron also made me a foster mother and that is an amazing and indescribable experience all unto its own. It was a role I had said "Absolutely, positively, no" to from day one. But being a mom has me laughing harder, crying more,  saying the craziest things and giving and receiving more grace then I ever thought possible anyone would need. Foster mothering is a role I have fallen in love with and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
I am sure this role shift from nurse to matron will change me in ways I don't fully comprehend yet. In my walk with the Lord in the future, as a daughter, sister, friend, and future wife/mother.
While my heart is breaking, even now, at the thought of leaving here, possibly permanently. I am excited to see the fruits of what God has being doing here in my life, apply to my life back in America.

I have been sorting through photos and found this one of me and Levi at Christmas. :-)

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As I walk into the hospital ward I can immediately here his cry. His unique, "I'm frustrated, do something about it." cry. (It involves a lot of huffing and puffing)

The nurse meets me and runs through the list of things she has tried to make him stop.

I reach his bed, "Babu, what is wrong?" I say.

(photo credit to Megan Kennedy/Sarah Briggs)

He immediately stops and moves his eyes towards the sound of my voice.

I scoop him up and as he sits nestled in the crook of my arm he grins.

My boy recognizes me.

This is HUGE.

And the warmth that runs through me has nothing to do with the fact that it is 100 degrees outside.

The doctor walks over, "This boy is severely delayed."

I want to scream, "Don't you see? He recognizes me!!"

Instead I smile and say, "Yes, sir. But you don't know how far he has come."

From a 4 pound 9 month old who had to fight and gasp for every single breath.

While having seizures every 15 minuets that have robbed him of sight.

And total body muscle spasms every 5.

To the boy who today discovered a new bubble blowing trick

If only he could stop laughing at himself long enough to do it.

My mama heart is bursting at the seams with blessings.

My miracle boy knows my voice.

It takes time but love is winning.

It always does.

New sounds require serious thought.
 P.S. I am a sucker for cross eyed boys with comb overs

 

 

...no matter how small

Dear Ella,

        As I write this you are laying fast asleep on my chest covered in a mound of blankets. As a listen to the little sounds you make in whatever dreams you are having, I cannot help but think about all the other Ellas the world never got to meet.

      You see you were born with something called Trisomy 18 (Edward's Syndrome). A chromosomal abnormality that causes a verity of severe organ abnormalities including the heart and brain. It also causes, among other things, you to be very tiny. You truly do not belong out in this world. It is too big and too cold.

      In The West, Trisomy 18 is a disease that doctors and parents can test for before birth. Doctors label it as "a problem" that can "be handled". They sight the list of facts that prove "the fetus is not compatible with life." Only 5-10% of children born with Trisomy 18 live past their first month of life and only 1% live to adulthood. A two months old Ella, it is true you are a miracle baby girl.

      I wonder how many other babies were labelled with this horrible disability were never given the chance to prove that they too were miracles from the moment they were conceived. I wonder how many mama's, by choice, missed the chance to marvel at their babies tinee tiny hands, feet, or my personal favourite, your ity bity ears. I wonder how many soft downy heads never were stroked as the babies fell asleep. I wonder how many parents lost out on the funny bewilderment at how stubborn a 2 pound 2 month old can be.

     I wonder how many of the hundreds of people who liked your Facebook photos Ella, would have rooted for you before you were born. Would they have celebrated life if you had been their girl?

      I admit the thought of caring for you has me a bit daunted. When Sarah akka first told me we had a baby coming with Trisomy 18 my first response was "Dear God, no". I knew what T-18 was and the odds babies with it have of survival. And every time I hold you I swear I am going drop you or injure you in some way. But, baby girl, as I look into your big brown alert eyes I cannot help but fall in love with you.  Ella, if you are willing to fight for everyday of your life, I promise I will be your fairy godmother and wave any magic wand I have to help you make it to the ball.

      Ella, you were created and chosen with a unique purpose to serve The Master. And since I have met you I now know the reason you were brought into my personal life. I have always believed in the sanctity of life and have always checked the box marked "pro-life". But I avoid confrontation like the pelage and have been willing to stay quiet so as not to "rock the boat" As I feel you start to stir against my chest I vow, cheena papa, to fight louder and harder for the other miracle babies in the world. The ones who, like you (and your namesake Cinderella) have the odds stacked against them with no one in their corner.

 

I am so thankful for the chance to meet you, you 2 pound world changer. May you always know the truth of your Hindi name "beloved". For that is what you are.

    

Yesu ne prema and so do I.

    

 

       

 

 

(photo credit to the ever talented Nikki Cochrane) 

 

A beautiful story of another miracle baby named Zion http://www.today.com/moms/baby-zions-mother-even-through-loss-we-are-anchored-hope-2D12099782

Difference Maker

Advocate

a person who fights for the cause of another

a term that nurses are taught to tag onto RN

Advocate

something I thought I was

turns out 

I really wasn't

I like the nice part of being an advocate. The getting more pain medication for a distressed patient. The switching of rooms so a lady can be with her husband. The sweet Hallmark nurse advocate.

What I have learned both in carrying for my children and from my fellow house mothers is that a true advocate has a strong passion and is not afraid of confrontation. Well, at least I hate confrontation with a passion.

I have learned that being an true and good advocate for my children is not always fun but it is always right. I have heard horrible things said about the kids by medical professionals, my fellow advocates, because my kids don't fit everyone else's definition of normal. I have had things thrown at me and more confrontation then I need in a lifetime. I have cried more tears as a real advocate then I care to remember.

My nurse friend Kim is an advocate.  She flew to India for a week to help me implement the World Health Organization's medication/feeding program for severely malnourished children. It is an intensive program that involves around the clock antibiotics (IV and oral), vitamins/minerals and feedings for seven days. My kids missed out on a lot of vital nutrients and are very often continually sick. The hope is that this program gives their immune system the boost it needs to fight infections.

I learned this past week that being a true advocate is, at times, exhausting. And it even means that sometimes I have to subject my children to pain. But passion is what kept me going. Knowing that my kids would be healthier, stronger and require less hospital visits got me up at 2am for injections and again at 7am for feedings. 

Advocates are also selfless, and Kim demonstrated this to me this week as she even let me sleep through one of the midnight medication administrations. She was a gift from God and a breath of fresh air that rejuvenated my tired nursing heart. I will never be able to thank her enough.

I am learning that advocates are not rude or pushy but achieve the best results when fighting with grace. Advocates, who advocate well, have a passion and a grace that is contagious. Sarah is an amazing advocate for her children and has the respect of all she comes into contact with when fighting for their absolute best. And since I have come here and started fighting for these babies I have had so many doctors and random (God placed) strangers wanting to know how they too can fight for these special children. Love and grace are contagious

I came to India with one goal, to love well. That means more then gushy hugs and kisses, giving the kids cookies or cuddles. Loving well requires a want, a passion, a longing for something better, for my children, at whatever the cost to my pride or my comfort.

Advocate

dictionary definition: "high priest"

The High Priest is also

my personal

Advocate

before the throne of

God Almighty.

How could I not

be a good true

Advocate 

for those He has

given me?

“If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk,  and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.”  ~Isaiah 58:9b-12

 

Show me How to Fight for Now.

One either loves India or one doesn't.

There is no "gray" when talking about India love.

I, for one, love India. Mostly.

One of the hardest things for me to adjust to in is the Indian concept of time. Indian is trying its absolute hardest to become a major world power but is being hindered by a "third world" mind set. A majority of Indians are focused on having just enough for today, which makes it impossible to think ahead for tomorrows needs/wants let alone a future.

 When I moved into this home it was operating with this mind set. I call it "crisis mode". People were telling me we were out of food or diapers when we literally had not one item left. I would be left running out to the store at the last min. or scrambling to make do. Needless to say to someone who is a future oriented planner this was beyond frustrating. Why couldn't every one think like me?

Some where in the midst of my temper tantrum I realized that with my Western mind set I was missing out on the today I had been given. While living with a mind set for the future keeps me from buying groceries for breakfast at 8am, it also keeps me from enjoying all the little moments in my day. The moments that in the long run really matter.

I have been in India for 9 months. We were asked this past week about our long term plans for living in India and working for SCH. When I started this journey God called me to India for a set time of one year. Over a year and a half later that has not changed, I will be coming home in May.

I love it here. I love SCH, my work and the kids. There is no one reason for me to leave. But the journey of following the Rabbi is a continual one.

However, the next 3 months are not going to be spent preparing for my future in America. They are going to be spent taking one day at a time, relishing the small moments.

 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?  Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.  Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?  So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." ~Matthew 6:25-34

Just as I am

Fact: Living in India has changed my life for the better.

Truth: Moving to India did not/does not make me a saint.

The same sins and faults I struggled with in Lombard, IL USA came with me to India.

In fact, living out of my comfort zone in some crazy situations has magnified my faults all the more.

January was a hard month. Starting a new home from scratch and trying, as a new mom with new staff, to figure out how to run a new home has kicked me in the behind. I feel I have done more damage then good this month. Especially as I have tried to do it on my own, refusing Heavenly guidance. I have lost my temper more times then I care to remember and required more forgiveness and grace then should be allotted to me.

Indian life happens in community.

Living in community requires lots of grace.

I am so grateful for Indian staff for showing the alien in their community copious amounts of grace. For the wonderful women in my home that have taken me under their wing and who repeatedly, in their own quiet way teach me how to be a woman full of grace.

" And you He made alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins,  in which you once walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience,  among whom also we all once conducted ourselves in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, just as the others. But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.  For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God,  not of works, lest anyone should boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them." ~Ephesians 2:1-10

Fact: Left to my own devices and tendencies things turn disastrous.

Truth: Christ in His infinite grace and mercy has redeemed me, my story and my mistakes for His Glory. Hallelujah and amen.



 Baby Ruby and her ammama (grandmother) ayah.

Wondanalu

I started writing a blog at the beginning of the month. It was good. I wrote about how my really sick, malnourished, neglected children are teaching me about choosing joy. Then I moved and got really super busy in house where I had no internet (still don't). Then when I  started a blog about how my life in the last week and a half has started to resemble the housekeeper from Downton Abbey and how I kind of like it.

Since moving to the big city I have gotten a reality check of what exactly being a nurse in a critical care home means. The first night (and the next two days) I spent in isolation with a 4 lbs. 2 month old with a bacterial/fungal infection. She was being fed every 2 hours but I am a new mom and woke every time she made a sound (she has since been admitted to the hospital and is doing very well). Comparatively the rest of our kids here are relatively stable. A few upcoming surgeries and the occasional cough/cold but nothing life threating. Or so I thought.

Then today reality bit and it bit hard.

It started out like any other morning. No water coming in the pipes and me climbing up to the roof to turn on the pipes to empty the storage tank. Normal everyday stuff... The babies were being bathed and fed, with no doctors or hospital visits scheduled for the day. I was drinking my chai, reading my book  and enjoying a slow morning when one of the ayahs comes running full speed into the room screaming for me to come upstairs. Not being able to understand the fast forward Telugu I assumed that the water was overflowing from the tank onto the roof (not the first time it has happened). But on the stairs I was met by two more ayahs who pulled me up the stairs to the room where our children are staying. There I was met by a sight that I have prayed and prayed and prayed I would never ever, ever have to see. Our sweet baby girl Rosemary was unresponsive and blue.

If I never again in my life have to do CPR on a 3 month old it will be too soon. If someone were to promise me that I will never have to stand in an emergency room and watch a doctor put a needle into the bone of my baby I will throw them a party And I am asking God to please never again have me fill out a death certificate on one of my children.

"The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21)

This verse is pure and simple fact. There is no room to question.  I will never know why he gave us Rosemary for two months, time enough to make her nice and chubby, only to take her away. I will never know how Rosemary died. I will never get to know the beautiful content (if not a little bit serious :-) little girl Rosemary would have been. He is God and I am not. No questions.

Instead I must choose to praise. I am praising God that is abandoned little girl was loved well for the last two months. I am praising Him that I got the opportunity to serve one of His special children.  I am praising God that He saw fit to bless us with Rosemary at all. But most of all I am praising God that tonight that a precious little Princess is being held cradled in the arms of her Daddy completely healed.



"God made the ability to feel pain. He didn't have to, you know. He made the ability to feel pain and He also made it possible to feel joy. Should I hate Him for allowing one and praise him for allowing the other? God knew what he was doing. I may not always agree, but that is part of what respecting His authority means." - Dee Henderson The Protector.