My Hope

Sweat shops and child labor are not things I typically think about but I can’t shake them from my heart and mind. I recently found out that more than one of the children in the neighborhood started working at the age of eight before coming here. Eight… that’s two years older than M. I feel like it’s a battle to get her to clean her room… how on earth would she be ready to hold down employment in two short years? I know that part of her lack of responsibility is a direct result of my American mothering and catering to her needs, wants and whims. I’m trying to change that. But really, what eight year old is ready to work? I know the families sought this employment out of need. If you have to feed your family, you do what you have to do and everyone pitches in. I read this article a while back and my mind keeps wandering back to it again and again. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2016/05/11/i-had-to-wear-pampers-many-poultry-industry-workers-allegedly-cant-even-t...

I love watching the Olympics when it rolls around every couple of years (I love both the Summer and Winter games). I enjoy some of the sports themselves, but it’s more than that. It’s the hope for world peace (for at least two brief weeks) and it’s seeing the realization of people’s lifelong dreams become reality. I love watching the backstories on the athletes almost as much as the competitions themselves and am amazed at the dedication by both the athletes themselves but also of their families. I was excited this year to hear a new group has been added. Ten people proudly marched in the parade of nations under the Olympic rings. They belong to no one country. They have fled their home countries and for all intents and purposes, they are homeless. They are the first team to represent refugees world-wide on the Olympic stage. The backstories of more than one of them had me tearing up. One swimmer fled from her homeland staying temporarily in one host country before le...

I shared a video in a post a few weeks ago, but I'm not sure it pulled up in people's e-mails. If you haven't watched God's Heart for the Foreigner, please take some time to watch it. Here's the link to it on youtube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sd4IEuPvQw8 Everybody always says it would be nice for babies to come with instruction books and it’s true, but it’s even more exciting parenting a newborn in Clarkston. When M was born many of my parenting decisions and styles were much like those of my friends. Sure there were some differences, but common threads throughout. It’s easy to forget how many things are influenced by culture. Now I’m getting glimpses of how different people parent across the globe. Take something as simple as nursing. I’ve always been told that brand new babies need to eat every couple of hours and as they get bigger and older you can extend the time between meals further. It makes sense to me. If they fuss between those times ...

My friend doesn’t think I cook. By her standards, I don’t really. She has questioned me on more than one occasion if I cook daily. I tried to explain that generally yes I do but it depends… sometimes we eat leftovers. The things I cook most often are tacos, spaghetti, salads, or some baked meat with steamed vegetables or beans and fresh fruit. Every now and then I’ll make a chicken pot pie or casserole of some sort, but I know we eat healthier when I keep it simple. That being said, I can generally whip up dinner in 30 mins to 1 hour max. Her meals take 2-3 hours. While there are some dishes that have long cook times, there’s also a lot of prep work in many dishes. I got to help make kibbeh one night while I was visiting. I couldn’t believe the process!! Granted, she was making a large batch for a gathering the next day but still, it was quite labor intensive. In order to get the desired texture and consistency, the bugler wheat/chicken mixture was processed through a mea...

Church felt so healing this Sunday after the weight of this week. The Holy Spirit never ceases to amaze me in how He works through people. Our church had been planning this Sunday for weeks (or longer) and God’s timing (as always) was perfect. In the midst of so much racial division in our nation, our church had a unified service. The church we’ve attended in Atlanta has a very large building and so twelve other congregations also meet there. They’d been planning a combined service for this Sunday long before the tragedies brought fear and outrage. The church worshiped in English, French, Spanish, Burmese, Karenni, Nepali, Lautu, Senthang, Hakha, and Swahili. I couldn’t help but wonder how amazing heaven must be as my eyes filled with grateful tears. I just felt so much joy and hope just being a part of it and lifting praise as part of one body. I love our pastor and his challenging messages, but this Sunday was excited to hear a pastor from Kenya speak. He preached on Jes...

This summer one of M’s friends made her cry. Not on purpose and it wasn’t anything she’d done. She couldn’t come to one of the days of church camp with M. ‘But she’s my best friend!’ M wailed as real tears streamed down her face. I was surprised and felt she was overreacting but also secretly glad at the same time. I was nervous about the transition to Clarkston as M continued to miss her friends back in Bainbridge. Not only has she found new friends, but she’s seeing past everything on the outside to the heart of things. Her new best friend speaks a different native tongue, doesn’t eat the same foods and was born half way around the world. M doesn’t see a security risk or cultural barriers- she sees her friend- a child created in God’s image just as she is- someone uniquely loved and created by the same Creator who made and loves her. What would this world look like if we all loved our neighbors as ourselves. What would happen if we had a childlike faith?

It’s Ramadan, a time of fasting for Muslims everywhere. They are called to abstain from eating and drinking from sunrise to sunset for a month as one of the five pillars of Islam. My friend shared that she only fasts for part of it and talked about how hard it is to fast. My friend’s husband isn’t fasting and was told by other Muslims that if he didn’t fast, he wasn’t Muslim. As a Christian, I believe you can be a Christian without fasting. It is not the act of doing or not doing something that unites us to Christ. Rather it is our faith in him. She started asking questions about Christians and fasting. I found myself wondering how to answer her though. As Christians, it is not a requirement to fast but we are called to fast. Matthew 6:16-18 doesn’t say ‘if we fast’ but rather ‘when we fast’. It isn’t an ‘if/then’ statement. We often turn to Matthew 6 and examine the Lord’s prayer, but when we look at it as a whole and see the big picture, what amazing instruction Jesus gi...