from yesterday:
Ahmad is out of surgery! O2 levels already up 25%. His future is hopefully less blue and more healthy pink. His dad is crying tears of joy!
and 8 hours ago:
is awake in ICU and doing well. He is pink pink pink (yea oxygen!) and alert. Such a wonderful change is this little guy.
Thanks again for your prayers. Please pray for the other 8 children that are/will be in surgery over the next week.
If you would like to read more from Scott, a member of the PLC staff, please click here.
Incredible… we got an update from PLC that Ahmad will have his first surgery in just two days! I was touched by some of the Twitter updates that have been posted by PLC…
From a couple of weeks ago:
“ahmad’s dad committed today to do anything to save his son’s life. He is in the process of selling anything he can to raise his portion of $$$.”
From last week:
“just came to the PLC office looking worse than he even does in these pictures. This kid is racing against the clock.”
And from today:
“landed in Turkey, received his diagnostic test, & had everyone at the hospital celebrating & cheering upon news that the Dr. will operate!”
WOW… Praise God!!! What an amazing blessing for PLC to be partnered with doctors like the one in Turkey with the skill and knowledge to perform these life-saving surgeries…
Please keep little Ahmad in your prayers as he has his first surgery. Pray that the Lord would keep his little body strong, and that the surgeries would go smoothly and heal his little heart.
Also, you can still click here to give towards Ahmad’s surgery and travel costs.
-B
We’re in New Zealand!! Crazy!! The above photo is of me and my awesome friend, Hannah!
Ever since we left back in December, I’ve always looked at this New Zealand portion of our trip as “hanging out with Hannah and Richard time.” So even though I knew we’d be in this beautiful country, I was much more excited about getting to see my dear friends than doing any sort of sight-seeing.
So, even though Hannah would send me all these emails with cool ideas about what we could do or see during our stay, I always thought to myself – 1) We’ll probably be ridiculously poor by the time we get there, and 2) We could just sit around at a coffee shop and just talk and catch up the whole time and I’d be totally fine with that.
But Tuesday night, after settling in and having a nice dinner with some of their friends, we began talking about plans for the rest of the week. And even though I still felt like we could sit around the house the whole time, the more Hannah talked about all these cool places, the more excited I got about possibly doing them!
All that to say, I figured I’d regret not doing these fun things with Hannah and Richard, and even though I’m already poor, what’s another $50 gonna hurt? 
When else will I be able to do these cool things with my awesome friends in this beautiful city??
So today, we ventured off to Rangitoto, an island that was formed by a volcano. We spent the entire day hiking around the island, up to the top of the volcano, stopped for lunch, then hiked back down to catch the last ferry back home.
On our walk back to the ferry, this random German guy somehow tagged along with us and walked the last 1 1/2 hours back with us. He and Richard began talking together, and Hannah and I finished catching up on things, talking about the trip, etc. I loved that Hannah and I had that time to talk! I miss having that crazy girl around…
Well, at some point Richard mentioned to Ten (the German) about my trip with Liz, and so he and I started talking about it. He asked some really great questions, like “How do you expect people to take action as a result of your trip?” “The US has poor people as well…why don’t you just stay in the US and help with all the problems there?” “Isn’t it difficult to just go visit these places when it won’t really do anything to solve the problem – ending poverty, etc.?”
I loved that he was challenging me with all these questions…and we talked about that last question for a while. He mentioned that even though it’s good to go and visit all these poor third world countries, it will take more effort and more change within the government to REALLY make a difference. I told him I agreed, that a lot of these countries are suffering as a result of their corrupt governments…but I shared that I also have a heart and a passion to see the world, and to use the gifts I have been given to do what I can to raise awareness…knowing that my small part is just one of many little parts of a bigger plan. I shared that I felt God led me on this trip, and all I can do is follow where I’m being led, and do what I feel I am called to do.
He seemed to understand my thoughts, and said that it reminded him of a saying they have in Germany. “It’s like a Swiss watch…” He explained that in the watch, you have all these little wheels that turn bigger wheels. And you need both the little and big wheels to work together to make the watch work. He turned to me and said, “You’re like a little wheel.” And I smiled and said, “Yes…”
I know Liz and I have probably blogged about this idea before… But it was good to be reminded of it today. Especially since I’ve started trying to really process through things, and think through all that Liz and I have seen and done.
It’s tempting at times to believe that nothing will come of this trip…that we will have gotten ourselves into thousands of dollars in debt, not having made much of a dent… These countries will still battle these issues, the people we’ve met and grown to love will still wake up fearing that their villages will be attacked, or wonder how they will have food to feed all the children under their roof…
But I must keep doing what I can…keep going where I’m led. I know I’m only playing a small part. But my small part is important (essential, even!) in carrying out a much bigger Plan…
If we are called, we must go. If we are being led, we must follow.
The little wheels are just as important as the bigger wheels.
I’m sitting on the Venable’s wrap around porch in New Zealand right now, not far from the ocean, trying to process all we’ve seen and heard over the last six weeks and asking the Lord how He wants my life to be different as a result. Please do pray with us that we would hear His voice clearly and respond in obedience and joy.
So many faces surface as I think about our trip. Ahmad is surely among them. We got an encouraging update from PLC the other day and I wanted to pass it along. They are now only $5000 short of the $90000 needed to not only send Ahmad to surgery but all the children that were screened that day we just happened to be Iraq! Thank you for giving and if you haven’t yet but have a desire to, please consider helping finish up this last $5000.
As we have moved from one country to the next previously unknown city, there’s inevitably the clash with the culture, the visa scam or overpriced taxi ride, and the ache as we hold one more abandoned baby or watch one more elderly woman carry her heavy load. But then there’s the beauty…
The beauty of a young nurse visiting a leprous woman at a hospital in Southern Sudan, healing hands touching her, praying with her in words she cannot understand but in actions that speak.
The beauty of a teenage orphan in Zimbabwe tossing his “little brother” up in the air, working in one of the gardens that provides for the near 100 person family, having been transformed from the hardened boy he once was.
The beauty of a university student in Vietnam volunteering weekly at a center for disabled children, feeding those who cannot bring spoons to their own lips with their twisted limbs, joking with one who can understand as she also listens and ruffles his hair, studying bio-something-or-another in hopes of helping further.
The beauty of four girls from the UK, three of which just graduated from high school, moving to the armpit of Cambodia to teach English, the Bible, and then to work in construction three sweaty days a week, all while laughing with no hint of fear or dread of the days to come.
The beauty of stories like this one that I will continue to read about but that these devoted ones called by God to walk in these dark places will continue to live out long after our eyes to see journey has faded into the lost pages of cyberspace.
At first glance, she looked like a character out of a movie. I know it is not good to judge a book by its cover, but if I were casting for a movie and needed someone to play a “tough gangster prostitute”, she would have the part…
I could see that though this might not be the most ideal of living situations for Lee, at least someone showed interest in him and care for him, and he seemed to be eating it up. Besides, it is definitely a step up from living alone in a broken down car, at the age of twelve….
He told me about a case that he now has against him for stabbing another youngster. As he spoke I could see the fear, hurt, pain, and heart ache in his eyes; not just about the court case, but about everything: his entire life. Before I left, I put my hand on his shoulder and looked him deep in the eyes and said, “I know it is not easy! But you have to understand, whatever your mother and grandmother have done or are doing, really and truly has nothing to do with you! No matter what they say! You are just a kid and you should not have to live through the things that you have and they are supposed to look after and care for you no matter what! It is not your fault, and I understand why you act out in school the way you do, but it also doesn’t excuse it. You have the choice to use these things that you have been through as an excuse to go on in the way you are now, or you can decide to walk a different path, and prove everybody wrong! I believe in you and I think you are a great kid, and I want to try and support you in whatever way I can. Do you understand?”
And the beauty of your heart affected by these simple stories and pictures, deciding to support a Compassion child, pay for a part of Ahmad’s heart surgery, or plan a prayer time.
The beauty of your life choosing to see and love in your Calcutta.
Calcuttas are everywhere if only we have eyes to see. Find your Calcutta.
Mother Teresa
We arrived at the Handicap Center in Vietnam, with Jill and Tabitha, and I wasn’t sure what to expect… We followed the girls to one of the rooms, and before I had a chance to say or do anything, a little boy quickly came over to me since I was in front, grabbed my arm, and led me across the room to a lady standing next to a cart.
Before I could even say hello, she handed me bowl of what looked like oatmeal, then said, “Number Three. One, two, three,” pointing to the cribs as she counted. I walked to “number three” with the bowl in my hand, and without even looking back to see if the other girls had followed me into the room, I began feeding the little boy. As he lay there in his crib, so many things ran through my mind… The crib looked like it was fit for a child no older than 3 or 4… but I was certain this boy was much older. His arms and legs were folded in ways that made me feel uncomfortable for him… and I wondered how long he’d lived in this room, in this crib…
He ate the entire bowl of food. I told him “good job!” for eating so well, and wiped his face with the towel the woman had given me. Then I touched his sweet face and hands and wondered again what this boy’s story was…
I was told I could only take a few photos in that room, so I did just that, then went to meet the other girls who were waiting for me outside the room.
We later found out that most of the kids in that room were about 18 years old. And live their lives, day in and day out, in their small cribs…
While outside, we met some of the kids with less severe disabilities. I recognized the boy walking towards us – he was the one who had pulled my arm to help feed the kids. I asked the girls what his name was – “Gung,” they told me.
Gung motioned for me to give him something to write with, so I asked Liz for a pen and paper. He took the little note pad and pen and proceeded to draw me a little picture. I thanked him for his sweet gift, and told him I wanted to take his picture. He smiled, lifted his hand and held up two fingers…and I smiled back, remembering my friend Yenipher back home who had taught me the “Asian pose.”
A girl nearby saw that Gung was drawing, so she came over and took the pen and pad from my hands. She sat down on the bench and motioned for me sit next to her. I watched as she carefully wrote her name on the paper – “Phoung Onh.”
While I sat with Phoung on the bench, watching her snack on her Mentos candies, Jill and Tabitha were having a fun little conversation with a few boys sitting on another bench. Although the boys all looked no older than 10, Jill told us one was 15 and the other two were 13. The 15-year-old, Mun I believe was his name, had a bag in his hand. The girls said he keeps little “gifts” inside it, and then gives them to people he meets. He had given the two girls little finger puppets.
We spent a little more time there before heading back towards our hotel. As I rode on the back of Jill’s motor bike, I tried to take in what I had just seen… Then Jill asked, “What did you think?”
Whoa…gotta process all that already? I told her it was hard to picture many of those kids living their entire lives in a room full of cribs. And it makes me appreciate the life I have, and all that I’m able to do and see. And I wished those kids could have that… And I was sad to think that the parents of these precious children had left them… I could only speculate their reasons why… and trust that the Lord knows what’s best for His children.. I’m thankful we got to smile and play with some of the kids outside. Those sweet children are just as capable of love as you and I…
Later that afternoon we met another friend who took us to another children’s center. We only spent about 45 minutes there, and saw quite a bit in that short amount of time…
Several thoughts and feelings ran through me… A part of me just wanted to spend hours with these kids, playing with them and holding them. After seeing the ratio of workers to children, I wondered how often they are paid attention to… how often they are carried when they cry, how often they are touched or tickled… And I wished that I didn’t have a camera with me, so I could just devote my energy to loving these kids for the short time I was there…
I cannot tell you how precious these little children were! It was so sweet to see their little smiles, and hear the little newborns “coo”… And the older ones we first saw were very outgoing! They loved having their pictures taken, and opened up to Liz and I really quickly.
But since I was told upon arrival that I was allowed to photograph the kids, I sort of made that my top priority. It was hard to not spend more time playing with them… But I reminded myself that the Lord led me on this trip so that He could open my eyes. And in turn, I knew that I had to do what I could to share this experience with all of you.
I am so thankful for the little time we DID spend there, and for God opening up our eyes to something we’ve never experienced before… I know the Lord loves these beautiful children much more than anyone ever could…
Liz and I attended a Vietnamese church service this morning, and this verse stuck out to me during the “call and response” time…
“Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” 1 Cornthians 15:58
The Lord is indeed at work…. from the tukuls of South Sudan to the slums of India. From the growing townships of Cape Town to the orphanages of Ho Chi Minh City. And I know He is at work back home, too.
I pray that as I return to Austin next week, I will continue devoting my life FULLY to the work of the Lord…
As I held newborn Sang this afternoon, little tomato-red crying Emily Kobes popped into my head. Emily rarely freed herself of the airtight Kobes swaddle, but Sang had escaped hers and was crying in the last steel crib on the first row. The women working there were folding cloth diapers and onesies nearby seemingly immune to her cries. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to pick her up so I just waited until the women were looking the other way and reached in for her. She was so light… just like Emily was. Sang snuggled against my chest, little body outlined by my bent arm and collarbone as I held her wobbly neck and rubbed her back with my other hand, swaying back and forth just like I’d learned from Beth. She stopped crying and I started.
How I love that little girl I used to take outside before bed to search the sky in her pink “moon dress”! I know my feelings and memories are nothing to her momma’s. What circumstances led Sang’s mother to drop her off at the doorstep of the orphanage where she now lives in one room of cribs among many? I could barely bring myself to put her back into the rectangle when it was time to go. But what else could I do? Maybe she felt the same way. It’s clean there. There’s food and clothing and nice ladies who are paid to change diapers and prepare bottles. But will there ever be another momma?
Blanca and I decided to take today off and I have spent much of the afternoon catching up on my favorite blogs, emailing, and praying, reading and journaling. A recurring theme for me from the Lord on this trip (and in life!) has been to just be faithful in the little things rather than getting overwhelmed by the great need and seemingly endless cycle of evil.
As I read Psalm 37 here at Highlands Coffee with its free WI-FI and tasty vanilla lattes, He spoke this reminder yet again.
Do not fret because of evil men … for like grass they will soon wither
Instead…
Trust in the LORD and do good.
I thought back to the blog entry I’d read earlier from 365 Days of Activism full of the “little” goods done by a mother and teacher.
I’m a teacher. I get paid to teach. My children must pass their “tests” or I’m not doing my job. They must reach their benchmarks or I’ve failed. I must make sure they know their math facts or I’ve caused them to miss a major building block for future grades. Their education rests on my shoulders along with their future success.
But….I stop in the middle of a lesson so the class can make “get well” cards for someone’s grandmother who is having surgery; I take my lunch time to sit with a small boy in my lap who needs to cry because his mom died 2 weeks ago, and later I “beg” my colleagues for any extra money so that I can get a headstone for the same little boy to put on his Mama’s grave; I skip math facts drill so that Joe can show the class the pictures of his new little brother; I use 5 minutes of silent reading time so that Ali, the shyest child in the class, can recite a poem she wrote; I go to the store during planning time to get some new clothes for Autumn who never has nice things and who doesn’t smell too fresh because she’s still wearing winter clothes and it’s 90 degrees; I find a dentist who will donate his time to put top teeth in for one of my parents because her little girl says she can’t find a job while she’s “toothless”; I try my best to help a single dad who has been living in his car with his 3 children, and I try not to be discouraged when they disappear again in the middle of the night; I tell the kicking, screaming, cussing, hissing, ball of child in my arms how much I love him as I carry him to the office for the 3rd time this week; I look parents in the eye and tell them what they need to hear instead of what they always want to hear; I skip Social Studies so that my whole class can sneak with me into the cafeteria to hide surprises for the “cafeteria ladies”, and I spend a good deal of time teaching my students how to be good people. Is this in the standards? Nope. Am I an activist? You Bet!!
I’m a human. I don’t get paid to be human, but it’s the best part of my job!
To be human in the truest sense of the word is to fulfill our original purpose –to live out of that which was once hopelessly lost, now redeemed by our only Hope — to reflect the image of our God by trusting Him and doing the good He has laid before us.
I thought of our friend, Rudy, as we walked passed the houses with a hammock or two hanging beneath them. Is there any better way to spend an afternoon than relaxing in a hammock? Just ask this little guy:
On to more CHO photos…
CHO offers training in sewing and bike repair, then gives small loans for people to start up their own businesses.
CHO bought land next to this little girl’s house. Now her parents can watch her safely at home, and still work caring for the garden provided by CHO.
We visited the Safe Home where a young girl, pictured here standing in the back, helps another woman care for 25 kids.
The Safe Home… the trees lined in the distance are still home to land mines… It was unreal to be standing there, knowing the incredible danger that lies right there in their backyard…
CHO is currently building a “Safe Haven” compound, which will have a school, several houses, a pond and a garden. The 25 kids currently living at the Safe Home will move to the Safe Haven once it’s complete.
Blanca checked the World blog today and found the following comment that made both of us smile. Kristin Hagen sent us an email a week ago that helped prepare us to rejoice instead of doubt — thanks Kristin!
Women should not be traveling alone to foreign countries. I hate the fact that churches promote women missionaries going to foreign nations without fathers and husbands. Women get crackpot ideas to go be missionaries in foreign nations, and it’s all in their heads. God has not called them.
