Not 2 Us Blog Feed

It's Gonna Take a Village

lindsay — Wed, 08 Jul 2015 21:40:49 +0000

Six days ago, we were officially approved and licensed to provide foster care in the State of Massachusetts. It's been a long time coming...more than nine months in the making.

And if there's anything I know about this journey as a provider of foster care, I know this:

I cannot do it alone.

Our family cannot do it alone.

We couldn't have even gotten to this point without the love and support of our friends and family.

In the days ahead, we are going to need you like never before. Please know that we don't expect anything from you. If you feel something inside you reaching out to support us during this time, then we'd love to invite you into the community of people that will invest in these children. If you don't, we completely understand. Each person and family is called to their own passions and ministries. We simply want to provide an opportunity for other people and families to join us in this effort, if they feel so led.

There are no less than a dozen ways you can partner with us during this time. Here are just a few:

Pray for us. Please don't write this off as a generic request or easy choice. We will be supporting children and families who are in crisis. We will be battling against the horrible effects of addiction, violence, emotional abuse, malnutrition, mental illness, and, worst of all, hopelessness. Our deepest desire is to share an incredible Love with these children and their families...a Love that inspires hope like no other. We will need your sincerest prayers to be able to accomplish this monumental feat.

Give us a break. Oh, this is a biggie. Once a foster child is placed in our home, we will no longer be able to utilize our normal channels of childcare. Anyone who comes into our home will need to be approved by DCF...this could be as simple as completing a background check for short-term childcare or as complicated as becoming licensed as a respite care provider for overnight childcare. If you feel a tug to invest in our children by spending time with them, please contact us to learn more about becoming an approved childcare provider for our family!

Equip us for the task ahead. It is our sole responsibility to outfit our home with the equipment and tools we need to provide proper care for the children being placed with us. We have secured the most basic items: beds, an emergency stash of clothing and diapers, and a basic supply of feeding tools and utensils. Please check out our registry on Amazon.com. This list is simply a guide...we'd love for you to keep your eyes open at local garage sales or keep us in mind when you're cleaning out your kids' rooms. I found this perfectly good Bumbo seat on the side of the road the other day, and we all know that Allston Christmas is right around the corner!!!

Knit/Crochet a security blanket. Each of our children has a blankie that has become a great source of comfort and security for them throughout their lives. I would absolutely love to be able to give this gift to the foster children that come through our home. However, I cannot knit *or* crochet. If you're a master of yarn, would you please consider contributing to the stash of blankets that I will keep on hand for children who come through our home? Let me know if you're interested, and I'll send you more info! UPDATE: We have several friends making blankets and/or scouting local shops for blankets. I believe this need has been met at this time. Thank you to everyone who has volunteered to help us wrap these kids in love!!

Help me create a photo gallery in our hallway. Laugh all you want, but I'm serious! A great way to help a new child feel comfortable in our home is to incorporate their pictures and artwork into the pictures and artwork that are already displayed around our house. I have this great vision of a huge gallery along our (very long) hallway, but I can't seem to get it done on my own. I'd love to have someone to help me focus and get this done a.s.a.p. (Not to mention help me be sure everything is level!) ((This would also be a great excuse for us to hang out and drink tea or eat ice cream together.))

Share this post. Another way you can help is by connecting us with other people and families who share our passion to serve the families who are involved with the foster care system. Please feel free to share our story with others to help us build a network of people who can invest in these children and families!

Thank you so much for your interest in helping us during this critical time in our lives. We love you guys a ton! Oh! And if you have any other ideas or suggestions for things we might need or ways you might be able to help us (or the children we'll be welcoming), please, please get in contact with me and let me know!! Thanks, everyone.

Goodbye, Uncle Darryl. And Thank You, for Everything.

lindsay — Fri, 12 Jun 2015 05:22:51 +0000

Growing up, I knew I had an Aunt Judy. My Grandma Ruby told me stories about her: how she'd dress my dad up like a little girl when they were kids and other silly things. I could see her face in pictures hanging on the walls of our home, in the albums on Grandma Ruby's shelves. One time, she even sent me a real porcelain doll. I loved porcelain dolls, and, apparently, she did, too. I knew I had an Aunt Judy, but I didn't know my Aunt Judy. She lived way out in California, and, as far as I could remember, I hadn't ever met her.

Then, one day, I learned that she was coming back.

When I met my Aunt Judy, I remember thinking that she was short...just like Grandma Ruby and me. I don't think she would mind me telling you this, because it's entirely true. My Aunt Judy was also loud and boisterous. I don't think she'd mind me telling you this, either, because it's also entirely true. She laughed quickly and fully. She told jokes and shared stories, and she brought life with her when she entered a room. I love my Aunt Judy, and I can't tell you how much it's meant to me to have her in my life since she came home.

What I can tell you is that I'm not sure I would have my Aunt Judy in my life if it weren't for my Uncle Darryl.

You see, when Aunt Judy came back from California, she brought this really, really big dude with her. His name was Darryl, and he was her husband.

That's when I learned I had an Uncle Darryl.

My Uncle Darryl was tall. I mean really, really, really tall. My other uncles had to stand on the fireplace hearth to match his height. :) My Uncle Darryl was also quiet. I mean really, really, really quiet. He had the most incredible smile. It wasn't wide, from cheek to cheek. It was simple and sure, turned up just enough at the corners to let you know that he was amused. And my Uncle Darryl didn't usually laugh loudly. He normally chuckled softly with his big, hulking shoulders moving up and down just a little. My Uncle Darryl was the strong, sure foundation that allowed my Aunt Judy to be herself.

My Uncle Darryl's love for my Aunt Judy was so deep, so magnificent, that it flowed out onto her entire family. He loved my Grandma Ruby like his own mother. He helped her around the house and cared for her when she got so sick at the end. He loved my Uncle Dan like his very own brother. They fished, and they laughed, and they loved each other deeply. And, when my Uncle Dan passed away, Uncle Darryl watched after Aunt Patty exactly the way Uncle Dan would have hoped. Uncle Darryl loved my aunts and uncles, my mom and dad. Since he first drove across that Illinois border, he's been there for us. Quietly, faithfully. He served us without ever asking for recognition. He loved us without ever requiring our love in return. He loved our Judy with a profound love that healed so many of the broken places and brought her back to us.

And it wasn't just us that he loved, obviously. He loved his children, his grandchildren, his great-grandchildren, and his friends. He quietly lived his life, serving the people around him and loving others well.

More than anything, though, my Uncle Darryl loved Jesus. Time and time again... Year after year... Moment by moment, I watched my Uncle Darryl lay down his own life for the sake of others'. Jesus said, in John 13:34 (NIV), "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know you are my disciples, if you love one another." My Uncle Darryl was absolutely a disciple of Jesus Christ...he loved others every step of the way.

Yesterday evening, my Uncle Darryl passed away. It was sudden, shocking, and completely unexpected. We are all still reeling from this great loss. I'm not sure what life will look like without him here, but I know that I'll love a little better because of the example he's given me.

Today, in honor of my Uncle Darryl, I hope you'll join me in considering 1 John 4:7-21. I hope you'll join me in looking for ways to love the people around you with a deeper, stronger love. A quiet, steady love...always ready to serve. And I hope you'll reach out to the people who love you and thank them, hug them tightly. Because we never, ever know which day will be our last.

I don't know why my Uncle Darryl was taken so early, so suddenly. But I know that I want to live and die just like him: serving and loving the people around me in Jesus' name. Amen.

God's People

lindsay — Mon, 23 Mar 2015 04:24:04 +0000

I needed to be with the church this morning more than I've needed to be with her in a long, long, long time.

I'm facing a challenge that is bigger than me. So much bigger than me that I've cried myself to sleep the past two nights, and tonight's not shaping up to be any different.

I needed to be surrounded by other people who are leaning on God, depending on Him, and trusting Him with the details of their lives.

The music began, and I closed my eyes. I needed to be surrounded by God's people, but I also needed to just be with God. Do you know what I mean by that? I needed the strength of our corporate worship, but I needed the intimacy of my personal worship. For the first time since we started attending HRB fifteen months ago, I knew every. single. song. in the set. In fact, I didn't just know them, but they were songs that are buried so deep in my soul that I think they're almost literally woven into the fiber of my identity. I was able to enter into a completely focused and uninteruppted time of worship. And then the sermon was so good. It was a straight-forward, hit-you-between-the-eyeballs, "Jesus Loves You This Much" message. And sometimes I get frustrated by those messages. Sometimes I'm all high and mighty on my white horse shouting, "Give me some MEAT, dang it!" But today? Oh, today I was an infant, faithless and desperate, and I needed that life-sustaining milk. I needed to be reminded that Jesus loves me so much.

I cried through the last two songs, and I did my best to mop up my tears and look semi-normal by the time the benediction ended.

She walked up to me almost immediately after the service. We talked about foster care, and she offered me some incredible resources. But then she got a really serious look on her face, and tears sprang into her eyes, "I need to ask you something. We don't have to talk about it right now, but I'd love to learn how you've taught your daughter to be so on fire for God."

I looked back at her, kind of stunned. "How does she know Ruby?" I thought. I mean, I can't remember them ever having spent more than a few seconds in the same room together.

She continued, "She's amazing. She really loves God. I want my daughter to love God like that, too."

I looked across the auditorium at her beautiful toddler, sweet curls bouncing on her shoulders.

My instinct was to say, "It's not me. I haven't done anything. It's God. He's gotten ahold of her heart, and she's listened."

That's my pat answer. It's what I always say.

But today, for some reason, I gave a different answer.

"You know? I really don't feel like I've done anything special. I've just lived my faith, honestly, in front of her. When she was 3, we were hurt badly by our church. We left, and we didn't go back to traditional church until we moved to Boston."

She stared at me like, "Whuuuuut?"

"We were desperate. The hurt took us back to the studs of our faith. We were literally on our knees asking God if he was even there. I don't mean that we were debating if Jesus was the way, the truth, and the life. I mean that we were honestly looking around us and asking ourselves if God actually existed. We didn't hide that from her. She's heard us talk about the devastation in the world and ask where God is in all of it. But she's also seen us re-discover the true meaning of faith in God. She's seen us live minute-to-minute, desperate to know God's will for that day, for that hour, for that moment. When we took the easy checkboxes out of our life (Sunday morning, small group, church ministries), we got really, really serious about serving God with all of our lives.

Anyway, I'm talking too much at this point. Basically, I've just been trying to live my faith outloud in front of her."

She smiled, tears sprang into her eyes, and we made plans to meet together again soon.

I reached out and touched her shoulder, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, "That sermon just really got me."

"Oh," I sighed, "Me, too! Me, too."

I didn't realize it until just this moment, but I was too distracted to tell her what she really needed to hear. It's this:

Your deep love for God, and your desperate desire for your precious girl to know Him...those are the exact things that will lead her to Him. You are already doing everything you need to do: You are loving Him, and you are loving her. That's all He asks for. Trust Him with the rest. Ask Him, every day, to come and meet your little girl right where she is. She won't be able to help but fall in love with Him. Just like Ruby did. Just like I did. Just like you did. Trust Him, L. After all, He loves her best, right? :)

Always,
The Other L

Happy 8th Birthday, Ruby!

lindsay — Wed, 04 Feb 2015 19:06:29 +0000

Ruby,

Today, on your eighth birthday, I find myself uncharacteristically at a loss for words. It's not that I don't have anything to say. It's just that, whatever I say, I don't think you'll believe me. Despite the fact that you're still a FULL five years away from your teens, I see them creeping into your regular everyday eight-year-old existence.

A boy held your hand on the way back from the nurse's office last week. You flushed from your toenails to your ponytail when your little brother filled me in. So, see what I mean? It's coming. And I'm feeling surprisingly okay about it all, except for this:

I see you becoming more self-aware, more self-conscious.

And I want, desperately, for you to be able to see how incredible you are...I want, more than anything, for you to be able to accurately assess your strengths and weaknesses and see that your strengths far outweigh your weaknesses.

So I try to tell you, as often as seems genuine, that you are the most incredible little girl I've ever known. Seriously.

I could write a thousand stories, but the two that stick out the most to me at this particular moments are these:

You filled out your profile for our foster care home study the other day. One question asked what you'd like a social worker to tell a potential child about our family. You answered, "We will not hurt them, and we will take good care of them. We will love them, and we will not try to replace their parents." The very next question asked what you would like to know about a potential child. You answered, "Are they a boy or girl? How old are they? And how do they feel, so I can treat them better?" There were a dozen other questions, and, honestly, I think you have a better grasp on how to care for foster kids than 95% of the adults out there.

Your compassionate heart and your desire to care for others inspires me, and I can't wait to watch you continue to live and love in your own amazing way.

During one of our recent snow days, you asked if you could eat your lunch in your room. I brought it in and asked why you wanted to eat in your room. You had recently cleaned it out, and you responded that you were just enjoying reading and playing in your clean room. We talked more about your room and how we might change it to suit you better. I asked if you played with all your toys or if we might be able to give some of them away.

Now, before I proceed with the story, I need to give you a bit of background. At this point in your life, these are the toys you own:

2 Dolls
1 Dollbed
1 Small Box of Doll Clothes
1 Small Box of Dress Up Clothes
1 Nerf Gun and Bullets
1 Nerf Bow and Bullets
1 Very Small Box of Barbies and Barbie Clothes
2 Keepsake Figurine Sets from Disney World
1 Small Box of Craft and Art Supplies

I'm not exagerating. That is every single play thing you possess.

You turned to look me square in the face with an expression that very clearly said, "What do you want from me, woman? I have nothing left to give!"

I started giggling, and then you did, too.

"Mom," you said. "I don't have that many toys! I play with everything in my room a lot!"

Still laughing, I replied, "Yes, I know. I'm sorry. I forget how little you and Burke have, because you're always playing so much."

"Yeah," you said with a smile, "I don't have a lot, but I've got everything I need."

And that's all I need to say about you, Ruby. You are one of the greatest kids in the entire world. I'm absolutely certain of it. God has amazing things in store for you, and I am jazzed about the fact that I get to be a front-row witness of it all.

I love you, kid. You made me a mom, and, everyday, you're making me a better person. I thank God for you.

Happiest of Birthdays, Ruby Liz. You're the bee's knees!

Love. Always!
~Your Momma

These Grateful Days

lindsay — Sat, 08 Nov 2014 05:07:41 +0000

Does anyone else feel like it's nearly impossible to raise grateful children (or even be a grateful adult) in America these days?

It would be easy to blame the problem on capitalism and corporate America: we're bombarded with commercials that tell us we "deserve it" and media campaigns that try to convince us that everyone else already has it. The day after Halloween (a full 27 days before Thanksgiving), my kids were enamored by the Christmas decorations at Target...complete with a cardboard Santa being swallowed alive by a massive Wish List. See, it would be easy!

But I don't want to take the easy way out. And blaming capitalism and corporate America won't help me, because I have no control over those things. As long as we live in America, we will be exposed to the kind of abundance that breeds greed. So, what's a mom to do?

Well, I'll be completely honest: I don't know. Some of the moms I respect the most are doing their best to foster attitudes of gratitude in their children, and they all have the same report: They still witness sickening entitlement and ungratefulness in their precious little princes and princesses. (Oh, puke...just typing that makes me sick to my stomach.)

Anyway, I've decided to try an experiment. For the next couple of weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, our family has committed to eating dinners that will look strikingly similar to this:

One of the things our family takes for granted is our ability to eat whatever we like, whenever we like, however we like. Hunger is something that none of us has ever experienced, and it's hard, nearly impossible, for us to comprehend the lack of basic necessities that millions experience world-wide. So, as we work toward the biggest feast of the year, we'll be eating basic foods like rice, beans, eggs, and cheap vegetables and fruits. My hope is that we'll be able to adjust our mindsets and realize, on a deeper level, how much abundance we experience each and every day.

I'll let you know how it goes.

30 Days of Thanksgiving 2014

lindsay — Sat, 01 Nov 2014 13:00:00 +0000

Day 1 - My First Family

You are the first ones who taught me how to love, how to laugh, how to argue, how to share, how to apologize, how to have fun...how to live...how to really live. Thank you so much for being my first loves. I am blessed that God chose me to be your daughter and sister.

Day 2 - My Forever Family

You are the first ones who taught me how to love selflessly, how to laugh at myself, how to handle conflict, how to give joyfully, how to admit fault, how to find joy in others...how to live...how to really live. Thank you so much for being my forever loves. I am blessed that you chose me to be your wife and that God chose me to be your mother, sister, aunt.

Day 3 - My Girls

You are the ones who've taught me how to accept the past and leave it there. You are the ones who've taught me to look to the future with joy and hope. You are the ones who've told me to quit complaining and count my blessings, to stop doubting and start believing. You have accepted me when I couldn't accept myself. Thank you for teaching me so much about friendship. I am blessed that God placed you in my life.

Day 4 - My Kids' Friends

You are the ones who bring laughter and joy and play into R&B's days. Their faces light up when they're running around with you, and that makes my heart glad. You'll be the ones teaching them their first lessons about friendship: the fun and the laughter, the hurt and the forgiveness. Thank you for being their friends. We are blessed to have you in our lives.

Day 5 - Unquestionable Confirmation

God, I asked you to direct my path, to guide my decisions, and to give me clarity about the next steps. Within 24 hours, you gave me a big, flashing sign. Thank you for giving me exactly what I need exactly when I need it.

Day 6 - Modern Travel and Hospitable Friends

Planes and Trains and Automobiles...they give me the ability to get where I need to go and see who I need to see. This week, they allowed me to visit a new friend and meet her family. We had an incredible time together, and I needed it so badly. Thank you, God, for modern travel and the means to take advantage of it. Thank you, A, for inviting us into your home and life with open arms.

Day 7 - Modern Technology

I got to Skype with Bethany today. Need I say more? Nope. But I will: Friend, you were one of my very first and are one of my only still. You've taught me so, so, so much. I can't thank you or Him enough.

Day 8 - Saturdays

No work. No school. (Usually) No schedule. What's not to love about Saturdays? I'm so thankful for this one day each week when we have loads of time together as a family. Playing guitar, fiddling with Photoshop, watching YouTube videos, eating out, having fun... I'm just so thankful.

Day 9 - Sundays

Community time with our church. Family time in the afternoon and evening. Multiple ways to worship and serve. I'm thankful for Sundays.

Day 10 - Routines

I'm more at peace when things are in order. (Ask poor Mike about my ROYGBIV ordered bath towels.) With that said, I'm usually somewhat thankful to see the weekend come to a close. I know, blasphemy! But I really like the predictable nature of Wake Up, Pack Lunches, Fill Out Reading Logs, Walk to School, Walk Home, Do Your Thing, Walk to School, Play at Playground, Walk Home, Have a Snack, Play Momster, Do Homework, Figure out Dinner, Family Time, Bed Time, Daddy/Mommy Time, Bed Time, Sleep. Repeat.

Day 11 - The "Do Your Thing" Slot in the Routine Above :)

As much as I like routine, I get a bit freaked out by hard and fast schedules. I like routine, but I *love* spontaneity. I'm thankful for a job that allows me to have nearly unlimited flexibility between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 2:30 p.m. And for a lifestyle that is nicely balanced.

Day 12 - Mr. Winston

One of the things that made me the saddest about moving away from Lafayette was the fact that Burke wouldn't get the chance to have Mrs. Bearden as his Kindergarten teacher. I started praying, then and there, and asking God to give Burke an equally incredible kindergarten experience. I didn't know how it would be possible, but I trusted that it could. Last year, Ruby had Mr. Winston as a teacher's aide in first grade. She loved the way he read out loud and the way he helped kids with their work. He was patient, kind, and always in touch with his students and parents. I thought in the back of my mind, "I really wish Burke could have Mr. Winston as a Kindergarten teacher. I bet he'd be great." Then, the letter showed up at the end of summer, and there it was, listed at the top of the page: Mr. Winston's K-Wi Kindergarten Class Roster. :) He has been everything we could have hoped for in a Kindergarten teacher and more! Burke loves going to school and gets sad on weekends when school is closed. I'm so, so thankful.

Day 13 - Netflix

While Mike is away on work trips, my evenings seem long and empty. Netflix gives me the ability to pass the time and ingest good stories. This time, I was particularly grateful for Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries and The Bletchly Circle. So, I suppose I'm *really* grateful for the BBC. :)

Day 14 - Homecomings

Absence certainly makes the heart grow fonder. I'm thankful for the times when Mike gets to come home.

Day 15 - Friends. And the ballet!

I love dance, absolutely love it. Unfortunately, I can't do it. So I'm really thankful that others can. So You Think You Can Dance, YouTube videos, street performers... I take in dance wherever I can find it. Today, I was able to attend Swan Lake peformed by the Boston Ballet. It was beautiful. Enjoying it with friends made it even more wonderful!

Day 16 - Friends. And football. And crepes!

I wish I could be thankful for a Colts victory over the Patriots. Instead, I'll have to be thankful for the chance to watch their demise while visiting with a new friend and eating delicious crepes! :) Dinner before the game was equally delightful as we met up with fellow Boilermakers living in or visiting the Boston area.

Day 17 - The Calm

Life is full of ups and downs, peaks and valleys. But there are also blessed meadows and plains. I'm thankful for those calm, steady stretches of ordinary blessing.

Day 18 - The Storm

The ups. And the downs. I'm thankful for them all. The great flourish of dreams and celebrations, and the great anguish of broken dreams and canceled celebrations. Without them, life would be bland and boring and blech. So, yeah...I'm thankful for the storms.

Sometimes

lindsay — Mon, 27 Oct 2014 16:03:55 +0000

Sometimes, the Steelers wear stupid uniforms, and your Colts lose by a couple dozen points.

Sometimes, life just feels sucky.

I didn't say that it *is* sucky, because life doesn't have to *be* sucky to *feel* sucky. That's the silly thing about emotions.

Sometimes, they take the truth and twist it around.

Lately, my emotions have been twisting me up inside until I was feeling like my beautiful life was sucky.

And, since things are *really* stressful at work for my husband, I was trying to keep it all in. I was trying to put on a smiley face and support him through this time. But I was failing. It was inevitable that the yuck would spew out at some point, but, it was leaking out little by little and kinda making me and everyone around me miserable.

Last night? I just let it out. I felt the yuck, and I didn't fake it.

I railed against the Steelers for their stupid costumes. I railed against the Colts for their (lack of) defense and their impotent offensive line. I railed against 60 Minutes for an hour special on *one* American Ebola patient instead of an hour special on *thousands* of West African Ebola patients. I was just in a miserable mood.

So, eventually, I just put my arms around my husband and asked him to hug me. Then, I cried on his shoulder. We talked, and we agreed that life just feels sucky right now. But that doesn't mean it is sucky. We reminded each other that we have each other, and we really love each other. We reminded ourselves that we have Ruby and Burke, and we really love Ruby and Burke. We reminded ourselves that we're actively pursuing things that matter to us, which means that, undoubtedly, we'll go through ups and downs. But the downs don't last forever...we just have to be diligent and patient. So we made love and went to sleep.

This morning, I woke up feeling so much better. The dishes are done, the laundry's being caught up, and I'm getting ready to tackle the papers that are threatening to overtake our apartment.

Sometimes, you just need to be honest and feel what you feel. Tell someone how you're feeling, and let them share your burden. I promise, it will help.

Holiday Playdates at The Goodwins' Place!

lindsay — Sun, 26 Oct 2014 03:38:37 +0000

Need to get some holiday shopping done without the "help" of your little elves? Want to sneak in a few dates before the holiday season takes over your calendar?

Well, I've got a treat for you!

During the months of November and December, our family will be hosting Holiday Playdates! We'll provide a pizza dinner, as well as a snack. Each week we'll have a theme: November's themes will be related to Thanksgiving, and December's themes will be related to Christmas. We'll offer games, crafts, and a movie, and we'll also provide a quiet room for kids who would prefer to read books, write in journals, or work on a quiet project brought from home. A safe, quiet space with toddler toys will also be set up for very young children who want to tag along with big brothers and sisters.

Sound interesting? Here are the details -

Who: All ages are welcome!

What: Structured playdates aimed to entertain kids while parents take advantage of their child-free hours!

When: Fridays in November and December (except November 28th)
5:00 - 9:00 p.m. (Extended hours can be provided, just make a note on your reservation.)

Where: The Goodwin Residence
(Address will be provided once you've submitted a reservation.)

How: In order to ensure safety and fun for everyone, we'll be limiting each playdate to ten children. You can reserve
your family's spot by filling out this reservation form. Once we've received your reservation, we'll send you
an email with more specific information, including our address and contact information.
If you have any specific questions, feel free to contact us before filling out a reservation.

Cost: $25/child or $50/family
Dinner and craft supplies are included in the cost. All money will be used to fund our next trip to Rwanda!
A limited number of free spots will be provided each week as our gift to our friends. Please indicate on your
reservation form if you need one of these spots. :)

Welp, I think that's about it. We can't wait to spend some time with your kids! Make sure and reserve your spot soon!

Rwanda: One Brother

lindsay — Thu, 23 Oct 2014 21:44:33 +0000

It's been nearly six years since we started sponsoring our first child through Compassion International. We chose the youngest child in Rwanda, because we wanted to walk the entire length of the journey with our first kiddo. A couple of years later, I learned that older males are typically the last-chosen sponsored children. We wanted to help change that reality for at least one young man, and we added Rabuma to our family. We wanted to make sure that he didn't walk the last few years of his journey with Compassion alone.

Last year, when a letter arrived alerting me to the fact that Rabuma would be graduating soon, tears sprang into my eyes. I had honestly not considered the fact that, at some point, his Compassion sponsorship would end. I mean, if I had been thinking through the process logically, then of course I would have realized that fact. However, I had been moving through the process with my heart...and the thought of losing contact with him, suddenly being disconnected from regular updates about his life, shook me. How would I be sure that he was okay? How would I know if he had what he needed? How would I be able to support him? What was life like...after Compassion?

I sent him our final letter, told him how incredibly proud we were and how thankful we were to have been able to get to know him and support him. I included a graduation gift, and I surrendered his future to God. Since then, we have prayed for him daily. The kids ask about him on a regular basis, and I have truly begged God on Rabuma's behalf.

When I flew to Rwanda in September, God gave me an incredible gift.

His name is Abrahamu.

For more than 12 years, Abrahamu was sponsored by our trip leader, Greg, and his family. Abrahamu and Greg had met before on a previous sponsor tour that Greg had led, and it was really, really incredible to see their relationship...how it had grown, how it stood the test of time:

Abrahamu has graduated from Secondary School and, therefore, graduated from the Compassion Program. He and Greg had arranged, on their own, to meet up while Greg was in Rwanda.

I did not even know that was possible.

My entire time with Compassion, I have been told, repeatedly, not to divulge any personal information to my children. I have been instructed, repeatedly, to contact my kiddos *only* through Compassion. So I asked Greg, was continued contact with a graduated sponsored child a special perk for Compassion employees?

No. Anyone can have continued contact with their children after they graduate from Compassion!

There are risks. And there are rules to mitigate those risks. But. it. is. possible. That was incredible, encouraging information to gain.

But the best part of meeting Abrahamu was seeing honest-to-goodness living proof of what life is like after Compassion.

Abrahamu is happy and healthy. He is kind and gentle. He is intelligent and eager to learn. He loves his family and beams with pride when he speaks of them. And he seeks God with his whole heart.

Every single moment I spent with Abrahamu was a joy. :) I loved learning more about his family and his dreams. He wants to go to University and study Computer Science and Website Development. Right now, he's working as a sound engineer and DJ in order to save the money he'll need to reach that goal. I am so proud of him, and I want, more than anything, to see him get the opportunity to reach his goals.

Right now, the only thing I can do is pray for him. However, God has planted a dream in my heart, and I'm hopeful that, one day, I will be able to play a part in providing opportunities for Abrahamu and Dariah. I love them, and I hope that God will give me the chance to continue to be in their lives. I pray that, one day, I'll be flying over to Rwanda to attend their college graduations, to be at their weddings, to meet their children. They are amazing, and I am so, so, so glad I got to meet them.

And they are not alone. There are approximately 6,000 Compassion Kids in Rwanda who will graduate from their Child Development Programs this year. Some of them (<10%) will be accepted into Compassion's Leadership Development Program in Rwanda. The other 90% will go on to pursue their dreams with the support of their family and their local church. Wouldn't it be great if we could increase the percentage of kids who go on to University *with* the support of Compassion?

We can! By making a one-time donation to the LDP or by committing to sponsor a University student through the completion of their degree, we can come alongside Compassion and provide opportunities for those who need them the most. Want to learn more? You can start here.

And keep coming back to visit me here on the blog. I've still got *tons* more friends to introduce. The people of Rwanda are incredible, and I'm so thankful I had the chance to become friends with so many of them.

Thank you, God. Thank you.

Rwanda: One Sister

lindsay — Mon, 20 Oct 2014 03:58:19 +0000

As each day passes, it gets harder and harder to write or talk about Rwanda. You'd think it'd be because of faded memories...time taking its inevitable toll.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

An article about Rwanda scrolls across my newsfeed, and the blood pumps faster in my veins. A friend from my trip posts a picture from a Child Development Center, and I can hear the children laughing. I wake up, daily, to texts and messages from my friends in Rwanda. Living six hours in the future, they ask for updates on my family, assure me that they're praying for us, and send their blessings across the ocean.

I walk through Copley Square, formerly my favorite place in the entire world, and ache for the streets of Kigali. I walk along the docks on the bay and remember the shores of Lake Kivu. I wrap my arms around my children and long for the day when my arms will encircle my other children once again.

Absensce has performed it's loveliest duty: the fondness in my heart has grown beyond anything I could have imagined.

This week, I pray that I'll be able to impart a bit of that fondness upon you by introducing you to the most amazing part of Rwanda: the people.

I am so excited to introduce you to Dariah.

Isn't she gorgeous? And her physical beauty is just the very beginning.

I met Dariah my second day in Kigali. She was there to serve as one of our translators, and I was immediately drawn to her. That night, as I headed into the dining room for dinner, I saw her and her fellow translator sitting alone in the outer dining area. Of course, I found that to be completely unacceptable, so I pulled them into the main dining room with the rest of the group. My reward was spending the entire dinner learning more about Dariah and Hyacinthe (our other translator.)

Dariah is a young woman currently attending university full-time; she's studying to be an accountant. She's also passionate about health and fitness, working part-time at a local gym. And when she isn't in class or working at the gym, she's supporting Compassion as a translator. Dariah is witty, charming, friendly, warm, open, and caring. She is intelligent and quick. Dariah didn't just translate Kinyarwanda into English. She interpreted words, intonations, emotions, facial expressions, and body language into a beautiful exchange between our group and our Rwandan friends.

Dariah and I spent much of our free time together: laughing, sharing, learning. She chided me for my lack of fitness. I grilled her about her romantic interests. We fell into an easy friendship, and, as our days drew to a close, I cherished every single moment I got with her.

Friday, the day we met our sponsored children, was Dariah's last day with us. She was assigned to a different group member, and I was frustrated that we hadn't gotten any time to say a proper goodbye. Before I knew it, our visit was over, and we were shuffled onto different busses. I cried all the way back to the hotel...sick to my stomach that I had taken my time with her for granted, neglecting to get her contact information.

I was scheduled to meet my final sponsored child the next day, and I thought there might be one final hope. I approached our trip coordinator, Eugene, and asked him if there was any way that Dariah could be my translator the next day. He informed me that it wouldn't be possible. She wasn't available.

The next morning, I woke up, excited to meet Pracidia...the first child I ever sponsored through Compassion. I went downstairs, ate my breakfast, and then one of my team members came out into the dining hall: Pracidia had arrived. I walked into the lobby and got such a great surprise: Pracidia *and* Dariah were sitting there waiting for me! I was beyond overwhelmed.

Later in the day, I got the details from Dariah. Her cousin was getting married that day. Of course, she was supposed to be at the wedding. However, Eugene had called her to ask if she'd consider translating. She initially declined, and then, she reported, "Eugene said, 'Dariah, it's Lindsay,' and I knew I had to come. I wouldn't miss it."

Pracidia took this picture of Dariah and me right after that conversation. It's completely out of focus, and you can barely make out any of our features, but I think this is my favorite picture of the entire trip. Taken by a little girl that I love more than I can describe, it shows a young woman that I love more than I understand.

"I have never felt like this before," she said, "I feel like you are my family...a very close friend. But I've only known you for a couple of days."

"In America, we might call it 'Soul Sisters' or, if we're being funny, 'sister from another mister,'" I explained.

Dariah started laughing and told me they have a similar phrase in Kinyarwanda. "Yes!" she assured me, "You are my soul sister, my sister from another mister."

I didn't waste any time. I got her contact information immediately, and we enjoyed the rest of our day together.

Since that day, we have continued to stay in touch, and I can't wait until we're in the same room together again.

Dariah is an incredible representative for her generation. She is determined and ambitious. She is generous and open. She is full of potential and ready for the opportunity to fulfill it. Dariah is amazing, and I am so proud to call her my sister. I hope that you've enjoyed meeting her, as well.

At the end of this week, I'll be sharing an opportunity with you to help support young men and women just like Dariah. Please stay tuned! :)

My dear Dariah,

I know you're reading this. :) Thank you for the time you spent with me. Thank you for the sacrifices you made for me. Thank you for the love you shared with me. I love you so much, and I can't wait to hug you again.

Yours always,
~Lindsay