"I wasn't God's first choice for what I've done for China... I don't know who it was... It must have been a man... a well-educated man. I don't know what happened. Perhaps he died. Perhaps he wasn't willing... and God looked down... and saw Gladys Aylward... And God said - "Well, she's willing."
- Gladys Aylward
Friday, December 27, 2013
Well, she's willing.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
broken foot and a mended heart
Last week, all the fellows headed to Tennessee on our "wilderness adventure." It was a week full of mountains, waterfalls, caving, cliff diving, whitewater rafting, staying at a gorgeous farmhouse, and so much more. In 1 week, I experienced so many of my favorite things that I'm literally getting excited just typing about it. I can't begin to describe the blessing of the community that I am surrounded by. 11 other fellows who are living life with me, going through the same transitions that I am, and doing it in a way that is so encouraging I could just explode. We all took turns sharing our stories- what makes us who we are, how we have seen God work, things we still struggle with or question, and were just real. There were so many tears. When you hear someone's story, it's like something in their story just pulls at your heart strings and you are able to identify that much more with them, because, somehow, it reminds you of yourself. We shared our hurts, our burdens, our joys, and our hopes. We are 12 very different people, but 12 people committed to each other, and being accountable to each other, and investing in each other. And it's beautiful. It's not perfect, but it's community. We came back battered and bruised from our adventures, but with full hearts.
Monday I started my job as the assistant director of Foundations Early Learning and Family Center. It was a great first day of work, getting to know the staff, starting to figure out my role as the volunteer coordinator, and forming relationships with the precious 4 year olds in the class. I woke up Tuesday and went for a run. I made it almost a mile before I stepped wrong on the side of the road and rolled my foot underneath itself, falling flat on my face (downhill). Typical Lauren, right? I walked over a half mile back home realizing all the way that my foot was probably broken. After the doctor visits yesterday and today, it definitely is. My precious host mom has been so patient with my stubborn self, telling me it wasn't an option not to go to the doctor, making me sit my booty down so she can get things for me, and has just been such an encouragement. I called my
mentor Walton and told him and of course his response is, "Gilpin, girl you are like the most un-athletic athletic person ever!" Tell me about it..
But the reality of the situation is, my foot hurts daggumit and I can't walk on it. I am depending on others to carry things for me, to (yesterday) drive me around, to help me up steps, to bring me a cup of coffee. And I hate it. I hate it because I only made it through 1 day of work this week and I actually like my job. I hate it because I don't want it to be a painful task to get up to go potty. I hate it because I feel dumb for having broken my foot doing something I do every day. I hate it because I like to do things myself, and have always been that way. I hate it because I don't want people to feel like they have to take care of me. I hate it because I am in physical pain from walking on one leg, on the foot that I already have arthritis in. And I hate it because I am prideful. I could have been in Haiti and broken my foot- I ran there, it could have easily have happened then. I could have been on the wilderness trip, in the middle of the cave. I could have been placed in a host family where the mom was just not able to drive me to the doctor or do the little things for me. I could have been a mother of 3 in a hut in Africa whose family is dependent on me bringing them water. I mean really yall, that really happens.
I am so thankful that I am surrounded by people who love me and have told me that they are blessed by serving me. They carry my coffee and get my supper for me. They bring me a brownie from work, or make sure I make it to my car ok. They tell me what questions to ask at the doctor and tell me to sit down when I should because they've been through this before. As much as I hate being taken care of, I am being shown that to truly be able to serve others, I must be willing to be served. I can't do it all on my own, even if I had 2 good feet. And now that I have 1 decent foot and 1 broken one, I definitely can't. I know that this is just a short season in my life. But my prayer is that it is one of growing my patience, my contentment, and my joy in the little things. I'm learning how to plan- that's something you have to do when you can only get up a counted number of times. I'm learning how to be still. And I'm learning that it's ok for others to help you. It sounds dumb to say that out loud. But making it my heart attitude is proving to take a lot more time.
Peace & Blessings yall, from Birmingham.
"I have an interesting perspective on depending on others. I think it gives people a chance to serve. And I'm not so much big on independence, as I am on interdependence. I'm not talking about co-dependency, I'm talking about giving people the opportunity to practicing love with its sleeves rolled up." Joni Eareckson Tada
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Big Girl Pants
Little Lollar has her Big Girl Pants on. That's right. It's weird knowing I'm not headed back to Statesboro this weekend, about to get settled into another semester at Georgia Southern. I love Statesboro more than most people realize. But, with my new state of Georgia necklace that I just bought and my handy dandy college degree, I'm heading to Birmingham, Alabama. I don't actually move for a few more weeks, but here's what I'll be doing.
I'll be a part of the Briarwood Fellows Program. There are 12 fellows in all, 6 girls & 6 guys. We are all recent college graduates, who have some idea of what we want to do with our life. At some point or another, we've probably thought about full-time ministry (at least I have) but have a desire to test the waters in the marketplace. This is a chance for us to learn how to apply a ministry mindset to a marketplace job. We will have roundtable discussion dinners, meet with mentors, attend seminary classes 2 days a week, & work at an internship 3 days a week. We will also be tutoring students in the community and building relationships with them. We'll attend many seminars, conferences, and retreats, all to help us gain leadership training and insight into just where we should be headed next. I'll live with a host family who is a part of Briarwood, and help with the youth group on Wednesdays and Sundays.
I will be interning at a newly founded child & family development center. I'm so pumped about this opportunity. I will be working with pre-schoolers in the classroom, as well as doing some parent education and any intern/assistant director-y stuff. This is the first year of the center, in the community of Fairfield, and I am so excited to be jumping on board with them!
A special shout-out to my girl, Leslie Morris, because without her, I wouldn't even know this fellows program existed. There I was, sitting in my house in Haiti and we got to talking about her awesome Fellows year and what I wanted to do after graduation. I decided to apply, and here we are. It's going to be a ton of new experiences, people, and knowledge all at once, but that's also what's so great about it. When I think about what I want to do with my life, I can think of a million hobbies, interests, or new things that I want to try. But it all comes back to kids, people, continuing to learn and a longing to grow spiritually. Here's to 9 months of all of that together. I can't wait to be back in Alabama.
Meet the fellows: (photo via Stacy Richardson)
for more info about the Briarwood Fellows, go to http://briarwoodfellows.org/#/fellows/class-of-2014
I'll be a part of the Briarwood Fellows Program. There are 12 fellows in all, 6 girls & 6 guys. We are all recent college graduates, who have some idea of what we want to do with our life. At some point or another, we've probably thought about full-time ministry (at least I have) but have a desire to test the waters in the marketplace. This is a chance for us to learn how to apply a ministry mindset to a marketplace job. We will have roundtable discussion dinners, meet with mentors, attend seminary classes 2 days a week, & work at an internship 3 days a week. We will also be tutoring students in the community and building relationships with them. We'll attend many seminars, conferences, and retreats, all to help us gain leadership training and insight into just where we should be headed next. I'll live with a host family who is a part of Briarwood, and help with the youth group on Wednesdays and Sundays.
I will be interning at a newly founded child & family development center. I'm so pumped about this opportunity. I will be working with pre-schoolers in the classroom, as well as doing some parent education and any intern/assistant director-y stuff. This is the first year of the center, in the community of Fairfield, and I am so excited to be jumping on board with them!
A special shout-out to my girl, Leslie Morris, because without her, I wouldn't even know this fellows program existed. There I was, sitting in my house in Haiti and we got to talking about her awesome Fellows year and what I wanted to do after graduation. I decided to apply, and here we are. It's going to be a ton of new experiences, people, and knowledge all at once, but that's also what's so great about it. When I think about what I want to do with my life, I can think of a million hobbies, interests, or new things that I want to try. But it all comes back to kids, people, continuing to learn and a longing to grow spiritually. Here's to 9 months of all of that together. I can't wait to be back in Alabama.
Meet the fellows: (photo via Stacy Richardson)
for more info about the Briarwood Fellows, go to http://briarwoodfellows.org/#/fellows/class-of-2014Tuesday, July 9, 2013
let the kids be kids
Back in April, I wrote about my visit to La Source. I went back to the village, a few weeks after the Life Ministries International team had returned to the States. I met with the village leaders, and discussed different ways that we could work together to clean up the village. I stressed that I was not going there to "tell them what they need to fix," but to merely ask how we could partner together to clean up La Source. Trash washes up on the beach daily, and the task of raking, sweeping, and cleaning the beaches and yards is no small task. Still, we felt like it was something that needed to be talked about. The village leaders expressed a desire to begin this work. They said that they wanted to be good stewards of what God has blessed them with. They wanted to teach their children about caring for their land and possessions, in response to the blessings God has given them. We discussed gathering and burning trash outside the village, and recycling plastic bottles. I left slightly overwhelmed about all the work ahead, but very thankful for our conversation and their eagerness to begin these plans. In June, another team returned to the village for a week of ministry. The villagers had already begun cleaning the beaches, and 4,800 plastic bottles had been collected and stored in the pastor's yard until we can set up correspondence with a recycling center on the mainland. These photos were taken:
The people of La Source continue to clean their yards and beaches, in response to the Lord and his work in their lives and among the people. They long to be good stewards of what they have, and to set an example to each other and surrounding villages. To reward the people of La Source for their efforts, and because we love them, a team in January will be building a community playground. We want this to be a gathering place for the people- where mothers can sit under a pavilion and knit together- through our knitting ministry as their children swing, climb, and are able to be children. We want it to be a safe place where they can gather, whether teams are there or not, and share in the joy of the children having a safe place to play, of having toys of their own, and of having the responsibility to maintain the site.
The materials and transport of materials for this playground will be several thousand dollars. We will be buying our supplies from a Haitian store on the mainland, to support the Haitian economy. We are selling t shirts to help us raise the needed funds for this project. Please pray about how you can be a part of this amazing ministry to the Church, by going or sending. We believe that every child should get to BE a child, no matter where they live. Through this ministry, we build lasting relationships and are able to advance the Gospel and encourage the local church.
If you are interested in joining our January team, please email me at laurenegilpin@gmail.com.
This is the t shirt design: the left picture is the front chest, and the right is the back.
Shirts are $20. All proceeds go directly to the purchase and shipment of playground materials. If you would like to purchase a t-shirt, you can do so by emailing me your size and shipment info at lasourceplayground@gmail.com if you'd like to send a check or give me the money in person. If you would like to purchase a shirt online, you can do so with the PayPal link below.
Peace & Blessings!
Peace & Blessings!
Friday, June 14, 2013
life as a post-grad, living in the in-between.
It's been a while. In some ways it seems like I've been home forever, and in others, it seems like I just got here. Moving home is no joke yall. As thankful as I am for it, and as fun as it can be at times, it is NO JOKE. The last time I really lived with my family I had a curfew and my own room. Now, I'm lucky that I found my own 1/2 shelf in the kitchen cabinet. Everything else is in storage, and my room now doubles as my dad's study and our extra storage. That being said, being around the Gilps is guaranteed a lot of laughs and a lot of healthy food, both of which I'm undoubtably grateful for. I've run into logistical issues, like knowing the fastest way to go anywhere. Take 1 car ride with me and you will discover that while I WILL eventually end up where I'm supposed to go, I will somehow always manage to pick to longest route. Part of that is that I just drive without really thinking about where I'm going. And part of it is that when I actually do think about where I'm going, the place has moved. Probably a whole 3 years ago, but how am I supposed to know that?! Being "from" somewhere, and living there are 2 totally different things. So part of my mission for the summer is to rediscover Augusta. If you've got any tips or favorite places, help ya sista out.
Leaving the orphanage was really hard for me. One reason was because I was so ready to see everyone back home, that I almost felt guilty for how excited I was to leave. I missed my family and puppy and community and friends and people, and was super ready to see them again. But leaving Maison was also hard because even though I want to go back to visit, a lot of the kids I am close with will soon be adopted. I had to leave them, understanding in my own heart that while they get the joy of a transition into their own family, this goodbye is probably our last one until heaven. I also had to leave the babies, the friends, nannies, co-workers, and other Haitian friends I had made. But I had to leave, and so I did. I came back to the States, graduated a week later, went to RUF Summer Conference at the beach, and then moved home. Since then, I've been back to Statesboro, drove up to Brevard, NC with some great friends to watch David Hart Sanders dominate on the field at an alumni football game, and went to Atlanta to be with my girl Mary Beth as she picked out her wedding dress. Busy busy, yes, but also PLENTY of down time. Like I said, it's been over a month. That's a long time when you're jobless and and don't know what to do with yourself. Hanging around my family has been one of the best things that's happened since I've been back. I've organized and reorganized storage of Betty's things, and am about to start the endeavor of painting ALL the wood trim in our house to brighten it up. (see yall in about 5 years)...
Doing all these seemingly "mundane" things keeps me thinking. I have started to process things I learned, and good and tough experiences I had. It also helps me process the transition from there to where I am now. Right before I left, I asked someone how the heck I was supposed to go back to "normal" life after living in a 3rd world country, where emotions are as extreme as people's living conditions, and everything is so much more real. She responded, "you don't." While I didn't find it helpful at the time, I have started to realize that she is right. I can learn to overlook things that bother me about other people's actions, like wasting lettuce, complaining about every little detail, people wanting to go on a mission trip to "help poor people," or the fact that the lady at the eye doctor used 5 Kleenex to clean the lens for me. FIVE. Those things are like 50 cents a sneeze in Haiti. *Side note: Yall, Target has an ENTIRE ISLE dedicated to Tide. One brand. I had to leave the store. Since then I've been back but I sure as heck haven't bought laundry detergent.* Anyway...
But the truth is I can't "go back" to the way I was, or the way I used to think. God has used this experience to change me. If we spent our lives, "going back, " we'd never get anywhere. I don't think God wants us to go back. I think he wants us to use our experiences to spring us forward, into whatever he has planned for us next. Because going back, it just doesn't get you anywhere. So I take what I've learned, and I have to filter everyday life through it. "Is objecting to blah blah blah really going to be helpful, or do you 2 just come from different perspectives?" It's almost always the latter.
Recently one lady had the guts to come up to me and say, "now that you're safe in America, I can stop praying for you. Glad you're back," as if she was only praying for me because she was terrified and convinced that I was going to be human trafficked or mobbed or stricken with disease or killed by an evil Haitian or something. Well, I'm so glad that she feels her job is done. The point is that I don't stop praying for my roommates just because we aren't living together anymore. I pray for them because I love them. And although I may have been in a higher stressed environment and had to take safety more seriously than other times while I was there, I need prayer now too. I need loving people to pray that I wouldn't just fill up my days with tasks and avoid talking to Jesus, because sometimes I don't even know where to start. I need someone to pray that I wouldn't turn into 15 year old me and storm upstairs when something doesn't go my way. I need prayer that I will be at peace with where God has me right now, in the seemingly mundane, in painting and in taking my grandma out to lunch, and in running errands, and in hanging out with my awesome youth group kids. Because really these things aren't meaningless. They're just different. And that's ok.
Leaving the orphanage was really hard for me. One reason was because I was so ready to see everyone back home, that I almost felt guilty for how excited I was to leave. I missed my family and puppy and community and friends and people, and was super ready to see them again. But leaving Maison was also hard because even though I want to go back to visit, a lot of the kids I am close with will soon be adopted. I had to leave them, understanding in my own heart that while they get the joy of a transition into their own family, this goodbye is probably our last one until heaven. I also had to leave the babies, the friends, nannies, co-workers, and other Haitian friends I had made. But I had to leave, and so I did. I came back to the States, graduated a week later, went to RUF Summer Conference at the beach, and then moved home. Since then, I've been back to Statesboro, drove up to Brevard, NC with some great friends to watch David Hart Sanders dominate on the field at an alumni football game, and went to Atlanta to be with my girl Mary Beth as she picked out her wedding dress. Busy busy, yes, but also PLENTY of down time. Like I said, it's been over a month. That's a long time when you're jobless and and don't know what to do with yourself. Hanging around my family has been one of the best things that's happened since I've been back. I've organized and reorganized storage of Betty's things, and am about to start the endeavor of painting ALL the wood trim in our house to brighten it up. (see yall in about 5 years)...
Doing all these seemingly "mundane" things keeps me thinking. I have started to process things I learned, and good and tough experiences I had. It also helps me process the transition from there to where I am now. Right before I left, I asked someone how the heck I was supposed to go back to "normal" life after living in a 3rd world country, where emotions are as extreme as people's living conditions, and everything is so much more real. She responded, "you don't." While I didn't find it helpful at the time, I have started to realize that she is right. I can learn to overlook things that bother me about other people's actions, like wasting lettuce, complaining about every little detail, people wanting to go on a mission trip to "help poor people," or the fact that the lady at the eye doctor used 5 Kleenex to clean the lens for me. FIVE. Those things are like 50 cents a sneeze in Haiti. *Side note: Yall, Target has an ENTIRE ISLE dedicated to Tide. One brand. I had to leave the store. Since then I've been back but I sure as heck haven't bought laundry detergent.* Anyway...
But the truth is I can't "go back" to the way I was, or the way I used to think. God has used this experience to change me. If we spent our lives, "going back, " we'd never get anywhere. I don't think God wants us to go back. I think he wants us to use our experiences to spring us forward, into whatever he has planned for us next. Because going back, it just doesn't get you anywhere. So I take what I've learned, and I have to filter everyday life through it. "Is objecting to blah blah blah really going to be helpful, or do you 2 just come from different perspectives?" It's almost always the latter.
Recently one lady had the guts to come up to me and say, "now that you're safe in America, I can stop praying for you. Glad you're back," as if she was only praying for me because she was terrified and convinced that I was going to be human trafficked or mobbed or stricken with disease or killed by an evil Haitian or something. Well, I'm so glad that she feels her job is done. The point is that I don't stop praying for my roommates just because we aren't living together anymore. I pray for them because I love them. And although I may have been in a higher stressed environment and had to take safety more seriously than other times while I was there, I need prayer now too. I need loving people to pray that I wouldn't just fill up my days with tasks and avoid talking to Jesus, because sometimes I don't even know where to start. I need someone to pray that I wouldn't turn into 15 year old me and storm upstairs when something doesn't go my way. I need prayer that I will be at peace with where God has me right now, in the seemingly mundane, in painting and in taking my grandma out to lunch, and in running errands, and in hanging out with my awesome youth group kids. Because really these things aren't meaningless. They're just different. And that's ok.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
shut up and listen
Yesterday, Hallie and I were doing an art project with some of the kids. You put crayon shavings on wax paper in the design that you want to make, and then fold the wax paper over the design and iron it together. It melts the crayons and looks really awesome. Every time a child came for their turn, we explained what they were supposed to do, and then said, "do NOT touch that (the iron). It is very hot and can hurt you." The kids were busy being artistic, but one girl, Wilda ran up to the table, and touched the iron handle repeatedly and turned around and laughed. As I walked her back to her room, I explained how important it was that she needed to listen. I said that I wanted her to be safe, and that because she had not listened, she did not get the opportunity to finish her art project. As we talked, I realized how often I am like Wilda.
I don't listen to what God says to me. Just as I want what is best for Wilda, for her to not get burned and to enjoy her time to be creative, God has my best interests in mind and often has opportunities for me to see how sovereign and how powerful He is, but I often miss them. Now, I'm not saying God's not in charge, but I am saying that I believe He calls us to live a life of obedience, and sometimes that obedience looks like choosing to listen to Him. You never know what opportunities He has in store for you. This past weekend was one of those times:
I was on the island of La Gonave, and on the way to La Source, by motorcycle, with my friend Donald. About 45 minutes into the moto ride, Donald stopped the bike. We had just been through a little town called Cetwa. This is remote Haiti- no grocery stores, no gas stations, just little houses, little churches, maybe a school, and a little stand with an air pump and a couple gallons of gas for people who come through. So, we are about a half mile outside this town. Donald said, "we have a flat tire, don't we?" Sure enough, I looked at the back tire, and it was flat. I said, "how did you know that?" and he said, "God told me to check it." Donald told me this next part after everything was over, but in his head, he was saying, "what am I going to do with her? I don't have a pump here, and the moto can't hold both of us with this tire. What do I do with this white girl?" As he is thinking this, and not saying anything verbally, I see an elderly woman stand up on her porch. She said, "just leave the white girl here, she can stay with me." The gate to her house, (a piece of tin) was blocking the bike, so she didn't even know what was wrong. All she could see was our faces. We both looked at each other and I said, I'll just walk back with you." And all of a sudden God said, "turn around and go inside." So without hesitating, I said, "nevermind, I'll stay here," and turned and walked toward the gate. Donald rode back to get the tire patched up, and I walked inside the house. Now you may be thinking, you didn't hesitate at all? And honestly, no I didn't. I realized that I was the only American within 30 miles of this place, and didn't even have my knife with me. But that voice was so loud to me that I didn't even question the idea. I just went in. I was thinking, "okay, I speak a little Creole, we'll see how this goes. I don't even know anyone in this whole town." Or so I thought.
I sat down on the porch with this sweet woman, and we started talking. All of a sudden, I see a face peer around the corner. I gasped and said, "I KNOW YOU!" and he said, "Yes LaLa, I know you too." He said, "Mackabi"and I just squealed and hugged him. Mackabi and his twin brother LoLo used to live in La Source. The last time I was there, I kept looking for them, but someone said that they had moved away. The boys had moved to Cetwa to live with their grandparents because their parents are dead. When LoLo came home from getting the family water at the well, we spent the hour catching up. They asked about everyone that they remembered, and we talked about why I was going to La Source for the day. The boys are 13, going to school and church, and eating every day. At the end of the hour, Donald came back on the bike, we said our goodbyes, and then we continued on to La Source. What would have happened if I had not gone into that house and had walked with Donald? We would have fixed the bike and then gone on our way. But the encouragement that I received from that family as we talked and were able to catch up was amazing. And it was because I listened to what God was telling me to do. Donald listened too. He stopped in front of that house and checked the tire. Right then.
Wilda did get to finish her art project. And it is beautiful. But she also learned not to touch the iron. And she is learning how important it is to listen when someone who cares about her says something. I am learning too. I'm learning that sometimes God sets up divine appointments. And listening to Him can lead to great blessings. My time in La Source that day was great, and I am so thankful for it. But the encouragement I felt when I spent time with Mackabi and LoLo on the way there was my favorite part of the whole weekend. Sometimes all you need to do is listen.
I don't listen to what God says to me. Just as I want what is best for Wilda, for her to not get burned and to enjoy her time to be creative, God has my best interests in mind and often has opportunities for me to see how sovereign and how powerful He is, but I often miss them. Now, I'm not saying God's not in charge, but I am saying that I believe He calls us to live a life of obedience, and sometimes that obedience looks like choosing to listen to Him. You never know what opportunities He has in store for you. This past weekend was one of those times:
I was on the island of La Gonave, and on the way to La Source, by motorcycle, with my friend Donald. About 45 minutes into the moto ride, Donald stopped the bike. We had just been through a little town called Cetwa. This is remote Haiti- no grocery stores, no gas stations, just little houses, little churches, maybe a school, and a little stand with an air pump and a couple gallons of gas for people who come through. So, we are about a half mile outside this town. Donald said, "we have a flat tire, don't we?" Sure enough, I looked at the back tire, and it was flat. I said, "how did you know that?" and he said, "God told me to check it." Donald told me this next part after everything was over, but in his head, he was saying, "what am I going to do with her? I don't have a pump here, and the moto can't hold both of us with this tire. What do I do with this white girl?" As he is thinking this, and not saying anything verbally, I see an elderly woman stand up on her porch. She said, "just leave the white girl here, she can stay with me." The gate to her house, (a piece of tin) was blocking the bike, so she didn't even know what was wrong. All she could see was our faces. We both looked at each other and I said, I'll just walk back with you." And all of a sudden God said, "turn around and go inside." So without hesitating, I said, "nevermind, I'll stay here," and turned and walked toward the gate. Donald rode back to get the tire patched up, and I walked inside the house. Now you may be thinking, you didn't hesitate at all? And honestly, no I didn't. I realized that I was the only American within 30 miles of this place, and didn't even have my knife with me. But that voice was so loud to me that I didn't even question the idea. I just went in. I was thinking, "okay, I speak a little Creole, we'll see how this goes. I don't even know anyone in this whole town." Or so I thought.
I sat down on the porch with this sweet woman, and we started talking. All of a sudden, I see a face peer around the corner. I gasped and said, "I KNOW YOU!" and he said, "Yes LaLa, I know you too." He said, "Mackabi"and I just squealed and hugged him. Mackabi and his twin brother LoLo used to live in La Source. The last time I was there, I kept looking for them, but someone said that they had moved away. The boys had moved to Cetwa to live with their grandparents because their parents are dead. When LoLo came home from getting the family water at the well, we spent the hour catching up. They asked about everyone that they remembered, and we talked about why I was going to La Source for the day. The boys are 13, going to school and church, and eating every day. At the end of the hour, Donald came back on the bike, we said our goodbyes, and then we continued on to La Source. What would have happened if I had not gone into that house and had walked with Donald? We would have fixed the bike and then gone on our way. But the encouragement that I received from that family as we talked and were able to catch up was amazing. And it was because I listened to what God was telling me to do. Donald listened too. He stopped in front of that house and checked the tire. Right then.
Wilda did get to finish her art project. And it is beautiful. But she also learned not to touch the iron. And she is learning how important it is to listen when someone who cares about her says something. I am learning too. I'm learning that sometimes God sets up divine appointments. And listening to Him can lead to great blessings. My time in La Source that day was great, and I am so thankful for it. But the encouragement I felt when I spent time with Mackabi and LoLo on the way there was my favorite part of the whole weekend. Sometimes all you need to do is listen.
LoLo & Mackabi:
Mackabi and his grandma that invited me in:
thankful for these boys:
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