Look who turned 11 years old

Happy Birthday Igor!!

Kombolcha reflections

Here is the next installment of reflections from sponsors who have visited our care point in Kombolcha.   Their experiences have deeply moved me over the last year.    I hope you get a better sense of the journey, the transformation of sponsors and the children from these updates.

This is from Les who went on the March 2013 trip. 

This was my 1st mission trip internationally, 1st trip anywhere I think without a construction element of some sort.  I was going to spend time with the children, play some games, show them and tell them that they are loved by me, by us and by Jesus.  I had prayed over the decision to go, sought God in the time leading up to the trip, there were many conference calls to discuss the trip.  I was ready, or so I thought.  There were tests of my patience (long lines, crowds, delayed luggage, no water at the hotel), but what overwhelmed me was the joy and love of the children once we got to the care point.  They didn't care what we were bringing, they were simply happy we had come….and happy is such a weak word to describe it.  They wanted to spend time with us, sit with us, hold on to us, play with us, laugh with us.  I share with you, some of the many memories that remain with me, burned into my soul.

When we first arrived, I remember the kids surrounding me, 10 or 15 or more.  All wanted my attention.  We played some simple hand clapping games, laughed, shared hugs.  Emotionally exhausting but physically energizing.  Sitting with them later that day they wanted to hold my hand, touch me, be near me.  They were curious about the hair on my arms and laughed at the sweat pouring off my head.  Another memory is Matthew, Derek, I playing keep away with a volley ball.  We'd toss it to each other high above our heads and the kids would jump on us to get the ball.  I decided to lift the kids above my head so they could get the ball, soon they all seemed to be around me, pointing to say "me next" until my arms ached.  The games we played were simple - bean bag toss, jump rope, hop scotch, pin the tail on the donkey - and we had labored to pick the right games.  But the kids didn't care what games we were playing.  Again, they only wanted to spend time with us, to feel special, to say without words "look at me, watch me", to be loved.

The last day was tough.  The kids were more clingy.  They knew we would be leaving, we knew we'd be leaving and each of us were trying to steal extra minutes together.  The week had gone by so fast.  Hugs lasted longer, tears were wiped away only to be replaced.  For me the tears were knowing I'd miss the children's smiles, laughs, knowing they were returning to their daily existence and I mine….each sad in its own way.

By worldly standards Ethiopia and its people are poor, lacking what the rest of us define as necessities.  The children we saw running along side the bus, the children we spent time with at the camp, the children you / I sponsor, though had a beautiful, simple joy that week, something I am poor in.  Part of me is back in Ethiopia playing with the children, sharing a love that breaks all language barriers.  Part of Ethiopia is here with me, I didn't declare it through customs though.  It exists in my mind, heart and soul, changing me.

Two years ago...

Two years ago today we sat before a judge in Ethiopia. She granted our adoption of Merone!  

What a sweet day.

Two years ago....

On May 13, 2011, we met our daughter for the very first time. 

We love you Merone.

Eight years ago

It's been an incredible 8 years since we first met this little fellow. He's not so little now!  

Time Flies.   

Scholar? Say what?

When I saw the invitation from the National Young Scholars Program addressed to Igor I thought there had been a mix up.  Don't get me wrong, our son is smart- kids from the neighborhood come with LEGO emergencies, he is a fabulous artist and has an incredible imagination. He does not like school because it is boring and he is a horrible test taker.  His grades do not reflect  "Scholar" written in blue on the invitation.  Until I looked up scholar in the dictionary
1. a pupil...
hmmm... he is a scholar after all!  His teacher nominated him for the program. When I spoke with her she said Igor was a very bright boy and he shows great leadership skills at school.  She thought he would be perfect for the program.

For those of you who have followed Igor's journey over the years you know this huge for Igor!!  It's been a bumpy seven years with our son and he still has challenges ahead.  We are delighted to say one of those challenges will be an exciting challenge- studying forensic science and building his leadership skill for a week via the National Young Scholars Program (NYSP) this summer.  That week he will staying in a dorm room with 3 other boys. Our son is growing up quickly.

Igor is paying for a portion of the NYSP tuition by mowing lawns, spreading mulch and selling note cards with his original artwork.  Check out his note cards at his Etsy shop!

Over the next few weeks and months I will be sharing stories from sponsors who have visited our care point in Kombolcha.   Their experiences have deeply moved me over the last year.    I hope you get a better sense of the journey, the transformation of sponsors and the children from these updates.

This is from Joy who went on the April 2012 trip.  

I'm a little bit of a clean freak. I'm the one who always carries GermX, you know the type!  While at our care point, having hundreds of little dirty faced kids kissing me every day was a different experience for me to say the least. I would sneak into the school building, use hand sanitizer and occasionally wipe my face with baby wipes. I loved the kids- they were precious, but I was having a problem.

I should back up and tell you that I got to meet my sponsor child while I was there.  I visited her little hut then went back to my hotel room and sobbed uncontrollably for about an hour. I was overwhelmed by the poverty, the living conditions and more.

The kids became familiar, their kisses more welcome, to share all that happened in my heart that week would take many, many pages so I will focus on one memory. 

Hayat, my sponsor child, grew in my heart until I thought it would burst.  How would I say goodbye? The last day came.  Hyat came to give me a hug and we said our goodbyes as best as possible with the language barrier then she went on her way into the sea of children. I stood there sort of numb.  I thought, well that wasn't as emotional as I thought it would be. Then I saw her, through the crowd on her knees bawling. Tears were soaking her face.  I ran toward her calling her name. I hit my knees, she came and lunged into my embrace. We sat there, her face in my face, my tears mixed with her tears. The taste of mingled tears was in my mouth. Dirty faces and hands didn't matter anymore. My heart was forever bound to her heart and it was snow white! I cried for weeks when I got home trying to work through the feelings of wanting her with me and not knowing how. God has helped me to see that I can help her and love her right where she is. Weeks later, Rahel, our wonderful translator, the children’s discipler, sent me a the pictures attached. What a blessing to have this memory captured in a photo. My memory of Ethiopia will be THAT embrace and the taste of mingled tears!