L.O.V.E.

Think about it for a moment. LOVE. When you see that word what do you think of? What does it mean? A word so little, but SO BIG!  Love...

One word. Many meanings. A word that can penetrate. It goes deep.

If you grew up in a good home then you have a decent grasp of the word. Yet, just a grasp! If you grew up in an abusive home then you have no idea what the love of a parent feels like. You do, however, know what you longed for. Good past, or bad, each of us have a deep desire for love. God created us that way. If you have kids, you know a different kind of love all together. More of an unconditional love.

Today, I got to receive love. Give love. Watch love. In many ways, love is action.

All of our girls have been abused in some way. Emotionally or physically, not one seems to have escaped it. One of our girls has been abandoned repeatedly. Rejected by her mom when she was two, she was sent to live with her father. Her dad found a new woman that didn't want her around so a few months later she was sent to her grandmother. The grandmother said she was a burden and cost too much so she sent her to IHNFA. IHNFA placed her in a foster home where she was mistreated and neglected to the degree of crying hysterically if I raise my voice while giving correction. She knows no love.

This morning I was busy trying to get my January report finished. I know the month is not over, but I want my work to be over so it is one less thing I have to do this weekend. I was filling out papers to finish payroll and adding numbers and kept seeing a face in the doorway. A pacing silent shadow in my peripheral vision. A little annoyed over the distraction I went to see who it was. I asked her to come inside the room. She stood behind me as I worked and said nothing for almost half an hour. Finally, I set my things aside and looked at her, "Aha? Whats up?" Her head dropped. "Is something wrong?" Silence. Her distance concerned me, but I figured she needed a moment so I answered my ringing phone. Finishing the conversation I sat back down next to the mess of papers. I felt a hand touch my arm. I turned and pulled her close. Hugging her I felt something warm on my arm, soon followed by a sniffle. "I just want to be loved."

Sometimes I lack for a response.

What do you do? Sometimes all I can do is hug. I can assure her. But the truth is that I can only show a small bit of how GREAT His love is. She knows the sting of rejection all too well. It is time to show her what it should have been. I cannot undo the past, but I can influence her future and some of that is by showing her a love that is true and pure.

She isn't the only one that is in need. You see people that are hurting every day. What are you doing to show them LOVE?

Sometimes you just need to stop, let everything around you sit, and spread some! I mean LOVE! Don't get confused! ;)

Do your part, Be His hands! Spread His love!

MY HERO!

No matter the hour, the day, the plans... He is there.

You know how as a child you could always count on your parents? It didn't matter what I got into as a kid, my parents were there to bail me out. It didn't matter what I had done, they were there. THEY WERE THERE! In an instant to save me from hidden dangers. Like Superman, but without all the muscles and special powers!

I was talking with a girl from the Gates of Hope a few days ago. She doesn't belong here. She has no child. She was not being abused according to the paperwork. The reason we have her is because I am a sucker. She ran away from home. The mom she was living with (who is really grandma) could not deal with her so she called the police. IHNFA was involved and I was called. They have no home for her. If I don't accept her she will go to jail because there are no beds available in foster homes. I met with her and we spoke for a few hours and I committed to TRY and see what happened. I reminded the attorney she did not meet the requirements for our home so the first minor issue we have she will be kicked out. We signed the papers and life goes on.

A few days ago I saw her crying alone. I sat down beside her and began to pry hoping to resolve her issues. I soon found out how little I could really do for her. She is feeling alone. She is feeling abandoned. She is feeling worthless. In digging deeper and asking why she reveals some more history. She ran away from home because her grandmother was abusive. Her grandmother sent her mom to a "friend" when she was a teenager looking for work. They were desperate for money. That "friend" was working for a sex house. There is a home here locally that holds young girls against their will to sexually satisfy paying customers. Her mom escaped, but was already pregnant. She left the baby with her mom and fled to the states. Now the young girl in our care was this baby. The grandmother had introduced her to a "friend" for the same job her mom escaped from. Our girl ran away from home because she was scared and felt alone and didn't want history to repeat itself. She resents her mom for leaving her in the hands of someone that will force her to live in the dark shadows her mom left behind. She hates her grandmother for making her mom leave. She hates her aunts and uncles because nobody stepped in and offered help. She wants absolutely NOTHING to do with her biological family.


How easy is it for someone like me to trust in God? How easy is it for me to forget to trust in Him? How much easier would it be for someone like her to trust in no one?

I had a hero growing up. I have an example of fulfilled faith. She has nothing, but lies. Hurt. Failure.

It is so hard to teach someone to trust when they can trust NO ONE! It is so hard to show someone unconditional love and support when they believe their "dream" they are living may shatter
tomorrow.

She needs a real life hero! Luckily, I know a Savior!

Sex For Tortillas!!!

 “Because I have hope that in her eyes, it makes a difference.” That was my reply. I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t know how to ever make him understand. When a person asks why I do what I do, I get upset. I get nervous. I begin to feel insignificant. Unimportant. I feel dumb.

I think maybe I was stupid for letting go of a success driven life. I question if it would serve everyone better if I just left it all and began the rat race all over again. You know the race where each of you look for the next piece of cheese hoping each one you find is bigger and better than the last. In the end your pay check is full of numbers. Sometimes, I just wish I had a pay check and the size of it is really unimportant. All of these thoughts flood through my head at this moment and are followed with, “Why? Why do I do it?”

I dread the ride to IHNFA. I always dread the ride to pick up a new kid. Recently, I had the chance to meet Madeline. She is thirteen years old and has a newborn. Picking her up to take her to her new home is a reminder of all of the car rides I have had over the past few years with the kids that first come in. I get to know them. Know their past. Cry with them. Love on them. And help give them the hope of a better future. I kind of like this part, but I kind of hate it. I hate it because I never know who will get car sick and throw up all over me. (She only threw up twice.) It can be a long two hours. I hate it most because I never know what words will be filtered through my ears.  There is a part of me that cannot stand the horrid history that most of our kids bring with them. You think you have baggage because of past issues, but hear this. “My family couldn’t afford to send me to school. We had no money for food. I was sold so that my siblings could eat.”  Are you okay with that? How did that make you feel? “They were able to eat.”

My insides begin to twist and the silent grey matter yells!! They were able to eat? That makes it have value? It was worth it? How does that make it worth it?! Every day for the rest of her life you get to look at the result of a meal that was placed on the table.  What was taught to her is that her life, her body, and her value is worth a small meal! I am not talking a fine dining steak and potatoes meal. I am talking a tortilla with some beans and eggs! She has a child and she should be studying! She has a baby and she should be playing with baby dolls! She is forced to change diapers and wake up four times in the middle of the night for the next few months, but her little sister got to eat a tortilla!! I want to ask if she cried. Why did they pick you? Did it hurt? Were you scared? What infections did you get? Have you had treatment for it? Those answers, I know, will come with time.

What were you doing when you were thirteen? What did you think about? What did you dream of? How did you spend your time?

Madeline is so excited just for the chance to go to school. How would you have felt if you were thirteen and starting kindergarten? She is stoked! I would have felt like the stupid kid with the dunce hat. Not her. She doesn’t even seem to mind that she has to take care of her baby. She seems so resilient. It is amazing! So strong for being so young.

So back to the original question:

Why do I do it? Because I hope that I can change her world and give her the opportunity to have a future that is full of true love, not sexual slavery. I hope that her daughter will grow up in a functional home and learn real life values so that she can have a better future than her mom and not suffer the same abuse. I hope that there is some small chance that the backwards thinking that comes with abuse and poverty can be broken and that a new cycle will begin in her family with a new heritage that can be found in Him! I hope, that there is some sliver of a chance that Madeline will find healing, and wholeness, and purpose, and have an opportunity to make something with her life. I hope, more than anything, that she will discover hope in Him.

More importantly, I do it because I know this:

One day, it will have made a difference in her eyes.

Because from now on there is no more sex for tortillas!

I Give Up!

I am not sure where to begin. Today has been eventful. Emotional. Overwhelming. Exhausting.

It started a week ago. On January 1st around 10:15 pm I received a phone call. An attorney for the municipality in Tocoa was looking for immediate placement of three children. Maybe it was because I was already asleep. Maybe it was because of the urgency I heard in her voice. Maybe it was because God knew what they needed. I said yes. Three kids arrived shortly before midnight.

Arvin 5 Months

Jose 10 years old

Perla Samantha 6

Their mother was shot four times and sent to a hospital in La Ceiba. They had no place to go. The only person that was able to help care for them was a grandfather that was now helping the mom in a different city. I knew when I said yes that the reality of them staying was going to be for more than one day. That is just how things work in this country. It always ends up being at least a few days. Sometimes longer. I told the attorney they could stay until they had a safe place to send them. I texted my mom an update on the situation and her reply was "that could be never, lol". Funny, yet not so funny.

These children came with one outfit and one pair of shoes. The baby, which is a boy, had on a pink sleeper when he came. Lucky for them we have a house of plenty. We have supporters that send us clothes and were able to pick some good outfits for them. 

A week had passed and the kids were looking for information about their mother. Knowing she was in critical condition all I could tell the kids to do was pray and wait, but for now they were in a safe home and their needs were taken care of. Perla returned five minutes later and said, "I am leaving soon, my mom is getting better." I could only hope she was right. While scrolling through the phone book of my phone I recognized a new name. It dawned on me that the name was also the new director of the hospital that their mom was sent to. I started to ask for a favor and research information looking for any bit of news I could give to the children. I went to bed with NOTHING! 

This morning I woke up. I texted another friend from the same hospital to see if anybody could give me any news. NOTHING! Then two hours later I see a message, I blink as I read the following: "she is dead". My heart sank. I began to wonder if that was why the attorney was not answering my calls. As I sat in a chair trying to focus on paperwork, but contemplating what to say to these kids I had a knock on my door. I crack it open afraid to see Jose or Perla. It was Tania. I was relieved. "Mama Lauren, there is a lady at the gate and she wants to see you." I grabbed my keys and walked out the door hoping it was the attorney and thinking she may this hard task away from me I sighed.

I find this...  meet Gloria and one of her daughters.

Gloria was sent to us by the local health department. She says hello and looks like the sun was too much so I have her come inside. She immediately looks for a chair and collapses. With tears flowing she begins to share her story:

She has aids. When she was a little girl her mother sold her to a couple. The man sexual abused her and gave her a present she would never forget. A present that would cost her her life. She has three children. I cannot remember any of their names, but it is only midnight and I have been on an emotional ride since before the sun came up this morning. Forgive me. I will post their names in the morning. The oldest daughter is 11, the second oldest (shown above) is 8, and the youngest is a 5 year old boy. Her husband died, from aids, when her son was a baby. She is alone. She is scared. She has no support. She needs help. She is still trying to work a little, but no more than three days a week. She grabs my hand and says, "I can't do it anymore." Her oldest daughter notices she is gradually becoming more sick. She is weaker. Because her daughter told her mom they needed to know where they could go tomorrow if she was gone she came looking. She has tried to continue to be a mom, a dad, and a provider for as long as she could.

I needed a break. I asked her to give me a minute to check on Jayden. It was a lie. I knew Jayden was fine running around getting into trouble. I went to my room and collapsed. "God, I give up! I can't do this job any more!" We have no more beds! We don't have support for all of the children we have! We don't have support for all of the ongoing projects! She has a need. I cannot help. She has a NEED! How can I say no? I stare at my phone contemplating who to call. Do I call the states? Do I call my husband? I can't take three kids home with me. That is WAY too much. I also know I cannot keep them on the projects because we DO NOT have the funding. Crying I call my mom. Mom can always make me feel better, right? I was hoping. A female did not answer the phone. Not that my dad greeting me is bad, but I was wanting a good listener. Dad is good at hugging and fixing, not really listening. (Sorry!) I ask for mom, he puts me on speaker. I HATE SPEAKER PHONE! Oh well... I could not hold back any longer. "I QUIT MY JOB!!! I cannot do this any longer!" They ask whats up. I give them the scoop. Wiping snot off my face I lift my head and see Sandy is behind me listening, supporting, comforting from a distance. My dad asks about the new kids we have been waiting to receive since the end of November. IHNFA... They always have something else and it is always on their time. He proceeds to say, "You have the kids, they have the need, just get the papers and work on the funding." That is all I needed to hear. I think I ran out of the door. (I know I did because when I came back to the bathroom I had black streaks down my cheek. Gloria had to know I had been crying.) I run out to tell Gloria the list of things I need from her to make the transition. We call the lab and I sent her immediately to get blood work for the kids. They are negative! PRAISE GOD! The attorney is working on papers making us legal guardians so it will be permanent, and tomorrow it should all be completed. Before Gloria left I gave her a hug and told her I cannot imagine what she was going through, but that would be here to help support her through each and every process. She is moving into a room that the Pastor of her church has been renting. The agreement is for her to pay as she has it. If she can't work they will figure something else out. Leaving her children must be one of the hardest things for her. Walking away wanting to watch them grow old. Wanting to see your grandchildren. Knowing you will never have that chance and waiting for the ticking of the clock to stop each day. I cannot fathom. I cannot help ease that pain. I can hardly bare to try and comfort her kids during this transition. All I can do is love. 

I have cried off and on ALL DAY! My eyes are puffy. My head is aching. I am annoyed with everyone. I am so emotionally drained at the moment that I have nothing left to give. Don't even ask for a glass of water! Pray for me over the next few days. I need strength and wisdom. I need to know how to help and what to say. I still have some bad news to share with some little kids.

We also need sponsors! We need 225 people to give $100 each month for the next year. We need to consider that fourth casita. Today an additional security guard started. I am meeting with potential teachers. I am looking for the best private school for the four girls moving on into high school they have to be registered by the 15th. All of this is because of the support that you help provide. 

Thank you! Thank you for the problems that you help solve! Thank you for helping us make a difference! Tell your friends. Tell your family. Tell your church community. There is room for everyone to get involved. The need is great and I really HATE saying we cannot! God has enough in His Kingdom. We just have to make sure we are doing our part!

I didn't deserve that!

I have a hard time receiving help from friends and loved ones. I kind of like to think that I can do it ALL. And I mean ALL ON MY OWN!

I have had a special person staying with us off and on over the past month. She is one of a kind. I wish I could express how much she means to me. I almost feel as if I am being accompanied by Mother Goose every where I go. She always seems to have time to help. She is SO organized. I am not organized at all and always seem to run out of time. I always have something left to do. Being around her makes me want to be a better person. She makes me want to be more patient. More loving. More helpful. I fall short compared. WAY short! I hope one day with time and experience I will be as wise. Now that my little tangent about my failures is over I can get back to my purpose of writing. SHE HELPS ME!

Any task or job I have and am working on, she helps me complete it. If I spill something all over the floor (I am super clumsy!), she helps me clean it! If I am working on paperwork that takes me months to complete, she helps me finish it!  If I forget what I needed to get done, she keeps me on track. The truth is I need a copycat version of her beside me ALL the time. Or maybe she will stay and never leave. (PLEASE GOD!!!) A few days ago I made lunch and was just finishing eating, she was already at the sink washing dishes. It embarrassed me. I hopped up to go try and grab the sponge and start washing. It was my mess. Why should she clean it? She told me to go do something else because she could help. The first thought that crossed my mind was "I don't deserve this!"

I don't deserve much of anything! Do you? Nope!

Does it really matter? NO!!!

We have GRACE! I LOVE His GRACE!  I NEED His grace!

Ephesians 2:8 ~ It is by His grace that we are saved!

1 Corinthians 15:10 ~ We live by the grace of God! (I am what I am because of Him.)

2 Corinthians 12:9 ~ His grace makes me strong!

I love Titus 3:7~ That being justified (justified means to be declared righteous) by his grace, we should be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life.  

MEANING: I get to inherit eternal life. I don't have to work for it! I don't earn it by good deeds. I am given it freely through love.

Definition of God's grace - Unmerited Divine Favor!
Something my daddy taught me. This is also why I get to be a Kings Kid!

What is favor? - Websters says:
(a) Friendly regard shown towards another especially by a superior.
(b) Gracious kindness
(c) A special privilege or right granted or conceded
(d) Something done or granted out of goodwill, rather than from justice or for remuneration.
(e) Excessive kindness or unfair partiality or preferential treatment.

I am favored. Not just by God, but I am favored among men! I don't just want to receive favor, but I want to shower people with favor! I want people to know me for spreading gracious kindness!