Where Do You Dump Your Stuff?

I am far from perfect. (Big surprise.) I, like the next person, am what we call “a work in progress.” I have just as many faults as the next person, I suppose. With that being said, I don’t feel bad to say I am not a messy person. Generally speaking, I feel at best when things are in order and clean. When my house is clean, I feel like there is peace, harmony, and good in the world. There is however an exception to this statement. My dining room table. When I get home from wherever I have been, it’s where everything gets dumped. I’m not the only one in the house that does it. Not sure if I projected this habit on my husband or maybe he has always suffered from it too. Doesn’t matter, the fact is the table is messy. It has mail, receipts, my purse, keys, papers, junk, and anything else that gets dumped there each day. It’s a convenient place to dump all that is weighing my arms down when I walk in the door. It’s the first thing I do when I walk in. I don’t think twice about it, and I walk away with a sense of relief by getting rid of what was weighing me down. By the time cleaning day comes in the week or company is coming over, it’s the place I dread cleaning the most. It takes the longest to get orderly. If I would just put things in their place each time, I would avoid that headache.

Why are we so quick to dump our heavy load on places like the kitchen table, but are hesitant to give God the things that are weighing us down in the important areas of life? "Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28)

He tells us to come to him with our troubles and allows us to unload our baggage at the foot of the cross. What an amazing gift to each one of us! Yet, each day we pass it up. We continue to carry it around ourselves. Maybe we give him some, but we can’t let go of the grip we have on the really heavy stuff. We long for that sense of relief from getting it off our shoulders, but we refuse to let it go completely. We end up with a mess to clean up in the end, but one that could have been avoided if we had placed our anxiety and concerns where they would be safe…with Him. We walk around with junk strapped to our backs, but have a Father who stands one step beside us with open arms to take it off.

What junk have you been walking around with lately? Consider handing it over to the one who can take it from you, clean things up, and replace it with a sense of peace, harmony, and relief.

Some Things Transcend Borders...Others Don't

Some things transcend cultural borders. For example, the sign for choking is universal. It’s a good thing. On the other hand some things that we do in our own culture are not such a good thing in another culture. Here are some observations I’ve made while traveling internationally AND domestically.

A toothpick is a toothpick no matter where you are. It’s one of those simple things in life where “If it isn’t broke…don’t fix it” A toothpick in one country is going to be the same somewhere else..that you can count on. Toilets on the other hand are not as simple. A luxury in one country might be a shelter with a hole in the ground while heated and cushioned seats in another are considered nice. What I’m trying to say is “Nice Toilets” are relative.

Success is relative too. What is successful in one country may be different in the next. For an orphan, working a low paying job but staying out of a life of prostitution may be a lifelong dream. Let’s not negate the work the Lord puts into keeping these children from that world by saying if they don’t attend college..they aren’t successful. For some, this accomplishment is a miracle. Success is living in the Lord’s will. Period..whatever that may be.

5 people with 8 cell phones (in any country) = interesting lunch meeting.

Americans don’t know the best way to do everything...sometimes (generally speaking) we just act like we do. Realizing “different” doesn’t equal wrong is a necessity of understanding other cultures. If you master it, you actually learn a lot. This must be done by eating a slice of humble pie daily. A slice a day will keep an overactive ego away.

What is cool in one country can be rude in another. For example, talking to someone with your sunglasses on may be common in one place. In another you may be offending those you care about. In other places it is strictly for protection of the eyes due to UV damage. In case you didn’t know…..Sunglasses can be controversial.

“Speed Limits” are relative. In some countries they are merely suggestions. In others, they are followed strictly. It has nothing to do with safety but only about how likely you are to get caught while breaking the law.

A Smile is a smile anywhere. It means the same in all countries and is contagious in all places. This is always true unless you are standing in line at the DMV in the US. If you are smiling you are obviously oblivious to your location, or I’m pretty sure you missed the sign that said “No smiling allowed.”

While on a recent road trip, I stopped at a McDonalds to get a drink and to use the restroom. A woman followed me in the restroom to try and sell me homemade bracelets. Apparently in Louisiana, the McDonald’s restroom is a hot spot for marketing crafts.

Not all cultures find it necessary to provide hand towels in the hotel. If you want to dry your hands, do it on toilet paper or wipe them on the towel you used to dry off after a shower that morning.

The phrase “It’s just spitting out” when referring to a light sprinkle of rain is not to be used in Texas. People will think you are crazy. If you say this and dare to do something like put ketchup on a hot dog, then they will really think you are nuts.

In Kenya if someone is raising their eyebrows at you repeatedly, it doesn’t mean they are hitting on you. It’s their way of saying “Yes” to whatever you are talking about. It’s pretty funny when you spend a couple weeks there without this knowledge.

Knowing the language of the place you are in is very important. Saying “I love you” instead of “Jesus loves you” to random homeless people can give the WRONG impression. One little word can make a big difference in a sentence. It’s fine though if you want that person to follow you around while thinking you are in love with them.

Having the toilet 3 steps away from the bed in a hotel room is normally not a desirable thing. If you have food poisoning and need the toilet to be as close as possible to where you are laying….its a VERY good thing.

Good Food is all about what you are used to. Raw meat in one culture is normal. It is unheard of in other cultures. So, what is cooked throughally in one home may equal “didn’t even touch the grill” in another. My advice…stick to the bread on the table. You never go wrong with the bread, and it’s usually always good across the board.

Air travel makes people do weird things. If you want to find me on a plane, I am almost always the one sitting behind the person doing those weird things. If you want to find me in a line at any given airport, I will be standing behind those people in the line too. This is true for domestic and international travel. My magnetism towards this kind has no boundaries.

Why?

If we had to trace it back, it all started with that first bite, I suppose. What makes me angry now is a result of the first bite of the forbidden fruit. It answers my questions of “Why. Why, oh Lord must this be?” We live in a fallen world and are living in a place of sin. That’s why. As I watch an 18 year old girl hold herself tight and rock back and forth, I swallow the lump in my throat and resist the selfish urge to close my eyes and pretend I don’t see it. As she rocks back and forth in rhythm, “Why…Why…Why repeats in my head with her every beat.

Within her eyes sits that blank stare that haunts me as I write. It’s the ”institutional daze” that I shutter to observe. I hate it. I hate what, God only knows, has happened to her. I look around me. In a cold orphanage, a broken window lets in winter air to the room that is close to zero degrees. No heat in this room. She has no coat.

As I travel back in time it seems to streets with horse drawn buggies and buckets hanging from water wells, I do see improvements. However, too many children are still left in the cracks. Why is this girl here? Is it because of her Gypsy race? Has she been so badly abused that she has crawled into an emotional shell and can’t come out to function properly? Has she been abandoned by everyone she knows? What will happen to her? What will happen to the young little girl on the other side of the room? She is smiling and dancing. What a contrast she is to the girl rocking back and forth. She is the only one in the room with a sparkle in her eye. As I look around at the other girls, that sparkle is missing. When did they lose it? How many days does this little girl have left for her sparkle to shine? At what point does the sparkle get robbed from them? Will she be rocking back and forth, like the older girl in the room, next year at this time?

As I emotionally recover from what was a great trip, I can’t help but be left with some harsh imprints on my heart and in my mind. These kids aren’t just a statistic. They are children. From five years ago, I can see large steps have been taken forward. Overall, things are definitely better. However, for the ones that haven’t seen improvement, my heart aches and wonders how long they will be left sinking in the cracks of the system. They have been robbed. The enemy has indeed robbed them, but it’s easy to put all the blame on him. What about us? Do we sit silently knowing they are out there and do nothing? Aren’t we to blame for some of this suffering? No, maybe we didn’t cause it but we certainly have turned the other way when confronted with the need and ways to help. We all have. Maybe we aren’t so far removed from that first bite of fruit long ago.

Please pray today for the children suffering in Romania. Start there and then move to a prayer on ways you can help. He will lead you in what direction He wants you to go. He is waiting for you to ask.

Hope for Change

As I roamed the streets of where it all began, I was reminded how my journey led me here. Where I am today is a result of what the Lord did in my life in a place called Romania. It still amazes me how He works, how He plans it all, and how He uses our whole lives to take us to wherever we are today.

I took joy in seeing the improvements in the lives of so many orphan children here. The country has come so far in 20 years. In many ways it is a miracle. It isn’t perfect just as no place truly is. 3 steps forward at times result in one step back. I saw improvement were that the government seems to understand the value of preserving families. They understand that institutionalizing children is not the solution to the orphan epidemic. They understand measures need to be taken to build families up and to break the cycle of abandonment from the beginning. How to do that is the million dollar question. It isn’t easy.

Still in the midst of trying to figure it all out. Children are left in limbo. They aren’t considered young enough to be labeled as undamaged and aren’t old enough to have learned enough lessons to be equipped with making wise decisions and lead productive lives on their own. And so…the cycle continues for them. No jobs, no money, no education, no family, where is their hope? Many don’t know the true Author and Perfector of hope. They live in a world that most would consider hell on earth. They don’t live…they exist. This is the story of so many orphan children. Then of course there are the success stories. The ones we have reached. They are the ones that were saved by the prayers of people they may never meet. Seeing the look in their eyes reminds us that yes, there IS good in the world.

It’s been two and a half years since I had been in Romania. It was way too long. This place will always hold a special place in my heart. I doubt that will ever change. The people, the language, the countryside, the culture, the history, the way the Lord has a way of showing Himself to me there, I truly love this place and am so thankful I was able to go back. However, just as each time before when the airplane lifted off the runway from this place called Romania, my heart silently cried out for the abused, abandoned, and suffering children I leave behind there.

I think of the children I saw in one orphanage that were clearly abused in more ways than I can imagine. I think of the Gypsy boys on the street that smelled as if they hadn’t been bathed in months. I think of the young children that begged me for food while I ate KFC and drank a cold Pepsi one day. I think of the young girls in a transitional home that are clawing their way out of a messed up cycle and a past they try desperately to overcome. I think of an orphan that was told her whole life she would never amount to anything and who says she just can’t seem to say the words “I love you” to others for reasons she doesn’t quite understand. I think of the blank institutionalized stares of the abandoned’s eyes that often haunt me in the darkness and silence of the night. As I whimpered through my prayers each night for those kids, I heard a quiet and still voice saying “I am in control.” I know it’s Him and I know He is calling us to go minister to others for Him. That is my hope for change.