Dumpster Diving for Something to Chew On

/ kensrobin / 9 Comments

Our dogs are chewers. When they were puppies, they ate shoes, pillows, and kitchen cabinets. Then in early 2008, we went on a trip to California, and left them with a housesitter who came home to this:   

 

 

 

 

 

They had not only torn off the ends of the love seat, they had ripped open the cushions and shredded the stuffing inside. They also ate each of the corners off of the throw pillows. They also tore into the matching couch as well. Did I mention that the couch and love seat set were only a few weeks old?

Apparently the dogs were a bit angry.

Ever since then, we have tried to head off the dogs’ inner chewing desires by providing them with a plentiful supply of dog toys to chew through. However, since they can tear apart a chew toy in less than a minute, it’s hard for the supply to keep up with the demand. I used to scour clearance racks in pet stores and websites for cheap toy deals, until I discovered the ultimate dog toy supply store:

Goodwill Outlet.

Goodwill has an outlet? Why yes. Yes it does.

Goodwill Outlet is the purgatory of donated goods. The merchandise has been featured in a regular Goodwill store, but hasn’t been purchased, so it is then taken to the Goodwill Outlet, where the wares are offered up by the pound, in hopes of selling to the best of the dumpster divers. In fact, the more you buy, the cheaper the price per pound.

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The merchandise is no longer presented in size and color-coordinated displays, but tossed into bins that are wheeled into lines, where hoarders and bargain hunters alike dig through the piles of random merchandise. Shopping at Goodwill Outlet is WORK.

At the same time, we have occasionally found some very good treasures. A nearly-new Kate Spade purse, a Lilly Pulitzer blouse, a lacrosse stick with the tags still on it. The thing that Goodwill Outlet is best for is selling lots of things that no one wants to buy at Goodwill, such as: crutches, shoes, golf clubs, exercise equipment, As-Seen-On-TV cast-offs,and stuffed animals.

Oh yes, they sell stuffed animals BY THE POUND.

Of course stuffed animals don’t weigh much, so we can get a shopping cart full of them for less than $30. That will last us 6 months, and is much cheaper than buying new furniture.

So, Saturday, Ken and I braved the land of the lost and the home of the hoarders as we loaded up on dog toys to last the next few months. Our stuffed animals have made their way home from the store, have been washed and dried, and have now arrived in the place of fulfilling their final stuffed animal destiny: keeping our furniture safe from the destructive jowls of our gruesome twosome.

50 Reasons Why I Love My Husband

/ kensrobin / 6 Comments

If you know me, you most likely know my husband. What you may not know is all the reasons why I’m so thankful that God brought him into my life to be my husband. There are thousands, but here are 50 of my favorites.

  1. He loves God more than he loves me.
  2. He is my best friend.
  3. He walks our dogs twice a day, rain or shine.
  4. He is an excellent preacher.
  5. He doesn’t mind buying almost all of our clothes at Goodwill, because he knows he’s making an investment in others.
  6. He tells great stories.
  7. He’s not afraid to lead a controversial discussion, but never loses his cool or becomes offended.
  8. He participates in my not-always successful plans for Saturday adventures.
  9. He wears sunscreen, which is my favorite scent.
  10. He fully supports my frugality, but allows me to splurge on the rare occasions that I want to.
  11. He loves to learn about just about anything, but most of all, other people.
  12. There is no such thing as “women’s work” when it comes to household chores, because he realizes work is work, whether at home or in the office.
  13. He laughs at my jokes.
  14. He’s great at opening jars and killing spiders.
  15. He is an extremely hard worker, but never feels the need to let on how much he really works.
  16. He’s great at math. Some people can do math, and others think mathematically. He’s the latter.
  17. He’s not afraid to laugh at himself.
  18. He never pushes me to move on until I am ready.
  19. He can figure out how to do just about anything, and isn’t afraid to try.
  20. He makes me feel important.
  21. When I feel like I’m a horrible person, he reminds me that I’m not.
  22. He has done a fantastic job teaching in our program this semester, and has come to love and appreciate the students as much as I do.
  23. He is an excellent writer.
  24. He lets me read to him on road trips to make the ride easier on us both.
  25. He can single-handedly maintain order with 80 middle schoolers, and even have fun in the process.
  26. He threw me a re-wedding for our 6th anniversary, because our first wedding was surrounded by darkness and controversy, because every girl should have one day of bliss in her life.
  27. He supports my interest in hockey, but understands when I’ve had enough.
  28. He is never harder on me than I am on myself.
  29. He’s great at grilling.
  30. He never makes a big decision without me.
  31. He is a wonderful artist.
  32. He treasures our marriage and is careful avoid all appearances of impropriety.
  33. He is always kind to wait staff and tips generously.
  34. He’s never complained about the changes he’s had to make because of my allergies.
  35. He makes great coffee.
  36. He compliments me in front of others.
  37. He finds other people to watch shoot-em-up movies with.
  38. He is better at ironing than I am.
  39. One of his favorite groups is senior adults and he loves spending time with them.
  40. He doesn’t see our jobs as “his job” and “my job,” but as “our jobs” so that we can help each other out when needed.
  41. He gives me permission to not be perfect.
  42. He can name almost all of the stars in the sky, and tell stories about where they are and how they got their names.
  43. He left his country to marry me.
  44. He never complains about how much I work, or how much I blog.
  45. He clips coupons, and helps me with complicated shopping orders. Willingly.   
  46. He’s the best parallel parker I have ever seen. First try. Six inches from the curb. Straight.
  47. We work very well together as a team.
  48. He cares about the cause of the poor, fatherless, and widows, and leads others to care about them too.
  49. His biggest weakness is for ice cream.
  50. His biggest strength is Jesus inside of him.

 And those are just a start . . . 

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Healers

/ kensrobin / 1 Comment

The annual pinnacle in the life of a professor is graduation, and tonight was our program’s graduation celebration. From the joy of celebrating 27 months of hard work mastered, to sorrow at knowing this is the last time we would all be together, to laughter over the strange and warm experiences over the years, the range of emotions was extensive.

While it’s been my honor to stand in front of them to teach, I know that it is their work that has brought them to this moment of honor. Galileo is often quoted as saying, “You cannot teach a man anything; you can only help him discover it in himself.” I have been privileged to have been a part of their journey of discovery about the human body, about themselves, and about God Himself.

Truthfully, my students aren’t just students to me. They’re not just another paper to grade, or questions to answer. After 116 credit hours of coursework, while sharing life under extreme circumstances, I come to know and care much more about them. I have had the blessing to be able appreciate their hearts as well, and they are vibrant reflections of Christ Himself.

This particular class of students had an unfair share of grief and sorrow during their time in our program. Too much disease, death, and disappointment weaved in and out of their lives.  But while some could have let hardship cause division and bitterness, this class bonded together to care for and cherish one another. It also led them to love and support the disadvantaged community around them, even when they themselves were busy and hurting. I believe that difficulties bring out the true nature of our character, and in them I saw a beauty reflected in their struggles. I saw the Body of Christ.

So, on these graduates will go into their practice lives. They’ll take the things that they learned in our program, pass their board exams, and begin saving lives one patient visit at a time. I pray that they’ll see Christ in each person they see, and that as they are caring for bodies, they’ll help to heal souls as well.

In fact, I know they will. Because they already have.

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Cloudy with a Chance of Blessings

/ kensrobin / 1 Comment

Yesterday, the bright sunlight beat down on the South, leading to record-setting heat. There were few words to describe the atmosphere in Tennessee other than “oppressive.” Even at 9:00 p.m., long after the sun had set, its searing heat left a scorching 90 degree temperature.

Today, on the other hand, the sun was filtered by the clouds. The bright blue sky was cast in shades of gray, which filtered down to a humid blanket that laid over the landscape. The temperature was almost ten degrees cooler, as the radiant heat dissipated in the sifted sunlight. The clouds mercifully spared us from the sun we did not need!

While today the clouds seemed like a source of refreshment, clouds often don’t conjure such pleasant images. Clouds have long symbolized doubt, uncertainty, confusion. They suggest that storms are ahead, that darkness lingers nearby. But Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest reminds us that clouds have a distinct role in the spiritual realm.

“In the Bible clouds are always associated with God. . . It is through these very clouds that the Spirit of God is teaching us how to walk by faith. If there were never any clouds in our lives, we would have no faith. . . They are a sign that God is there. God cannot come near us without clouds— He does not come in clear-shining brightness.”

Experiencing God is not the absence of clouds. He is within the clouds, and they are an indication of His presence. I believe that His presence is often most profoundly felt in the times when clouds surround us. We find the true definition of our faith in times when everything else is clouded with uncertainty — our relationships, our work, our health, our finances. 

In those times, the clouds sequester us away from the things on which we have inappropriately become dependant. They hide us, not from Him, but with Him from all that would vie for our attention.

“It is not true to say that God wants to teach us something in our trials. Through every cloud He brings our way, He wants us to unlearn something. His purpose in using the cloud is to simplify our beliefs until our relationship with Him is exactly like that of a child— a relationship simply between God and our own souls, and where other people are but shadows.”

 I often want to run from the clouds in life, to pray for shelter against them, to avoid them at all costs. But perhaps the clouds in life are the very vapor of God’s sparing us from that which we do not need — anything else but Him.

Maybe the clouds really are refreshing after all.

It’s Beginning to Rain

/ kensrobin / 6 Comments

Indeed, a miracle was already on its way when we opened that referral on Monday night.

In my own doubt, I told Ken that either we had to stop the adoption process to raise money, or if we were to proceed, we needed money to start falling from heaven as a sign from God. The thunderclouds of doubt and fear were rolling across the skies of our hearts.

Within minutes, however, we found out that someone had already written us a check last week, and it was on its way.

Drip.

Shortly after, someone else offered to help us out financially as well.

Drop.

The next morning, we found out that money had already been sent to our adoption agency by someone who had no idea that we had such an urgent need.

Drop.

Another friend sent a message within a few hours after that she was feeling led by God to give as well.

Drip. Drop.

At that point, we had not even posted on this blog about our need. But God was telling me that I needed to. I really battled with God about posting  last night. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to ask people for money. But God reminded me that I wasn’t asking for money, that He was. I should never be ashamed or embarrassed to ask people to be a part of God’s Plan. In fact, I should feel nothing but joy for being a part of God’s prompting.

Since my post last night, our typical blog traffic has tripled, setting both a single post record, and a single day record.

Drip. Drop. Pitter.

Several more messages have been sent to us from people who are responding to God’s leading. He is at work.

Drip. Pitter. Patter. Drop.

To us, the outpouring has been a clear indication from God that we should continue to move forward. We are so thankful for those who have already helped us clarify God’s plan. You may not even realize it, but you have been the instrument of blessing and confirmation that we asked for from God. We still don’t know how exactly where the rest of the money is going to come from, but we trust the One who is going to provide.

Drip. Drop. Pitter. Patter. Drip. Drop.

We accepted the referral for the two children earlier this evening. We’re stepping out in faith, knowing that God is still calling others to walk this journey alongside us.  Are you one of them? Would you consider how God is asking you to be a part of His plan?

After all, it seems like it’s beginning to rain.

Time for a Miracle

/ kensrobin / 7 Comments

I received a message yesterday afternoon from our adoption case worker that she was working on a referral for us, and wanted to verify the ages and genders of children we are interested in, since our home study is not yet complete. I confirmed that we were interested in siblings, preferably a boy and girl, and one in the preschool age range. We exchanged several emails back and forth until she asked me if I would be interested in a 3 1/2 year old girl and 4 1/2 year old boy who were siblings. I asked if she had more information and pictures, and within a few minutes I got another email containing just that, and more.

In fact, it was an official referral. This wasn’t just a “Hey, would you consider these two?” It was the medical information, a set of pictures of the boy and girl, and their actual names. The email also contained the referral acceptance agreement to print, sign, and have notarized, and instructions to return the packet with payment of $13,000, in addition to $200 per child for this month’s child care payments. In order to move forward, we have to put at least half down, and lay out a plan to pay the rest within 90 days, in addition to paying the other fees that will come due, which include nearly $1000 due in the next couple of weeks to file with immigration, and the remainder of our agency fees ($2000) within about six weeks, as well as $400 each month.  In case math isn’t your favorite subject, that’s approximately $17,000 total. This is addition to the $5000 that we have already spent so far in the last 2 months.

Gulp.  I don’t know how we can do this. We can’t even come close to what we need. We thought that the money would be due later, after we had a chance to do some fundraising.  Are we in over our heads? Should we be doing this? Are we just setting ourselves up for failure? Again? We’ve seen so much disappointment in the last few months. Can our hearts endure trying . . . and failing?

We debated even opening the pictures. Our social worker had warned us these were their intake photos. We weren’t sure what to expect.

We opened the photos.

They broke my heart.

Pictured were a brother and sister. The chubby-cheeked sister was clothed in a too-large purple stained dress, and no shoes. She was clearly upset — folding her arms across her chest in one picture, faking a toothy smile in another, a furrowed brow in another.

Her brother was standing next to her, in a blue track suit. In each picture he was pulling at his clothes with shy tearful eyes that looked tired from crying.

Suddenly it struck me as I flipped through picture after picture that what I was witnessing was likely the most terrifying moment of their lives. It was the moment they were being left. At an orphanage. The pictures clearly captured their tiny hearts breaking. How two preschoolers could comprehend such terrible grief is more than I can imagine. To be left with only each other. Frightened. Overwhelmed. Desperate.

My heart whispered to them tearfully in the moment of their anguish, “Don’t worry, we’re coming. We have a plan. I know your hearts are broken right now, but you have no idea what wonderful things are in store for you if you will just hold out hope. Have faith little ones. Your miracle is on its way.”

As I left my computer to escape the grief — both theirs and mine, I distinctly heard God whisper to me,

“Don’t worry, little one, I’m coming. I have a plan, and you have no idea what miracles I have in store for you if you will just hold out hope. Your miracle is already on its way.”

Yes, Lord. We need a miracle.

So there it is. We’re waiting for a miracle. We need money to rescue these orphans, and we just don’t have it. But God does. And I believe that He has a plan. He has not called us to this adoption alone, because we cannot do it alone. I believe that He has surrounded us with people who are also called to help rescue these orphans.

I feel like I must ask: Has God has been whispering to your heart over the last few weeks as you’ve been reading this blog?  Would you help to say yes to these two children, who have already experienced too much grief in their brief years? Are you called to be a part of creating the story now, rather than waiting to see how it ends?

Are you a part of the miracle that is on the way?

 

 

 
*Update: Donations directly to the agency are no longer being accepted because our fees are nearly paid off! (9/15/11)

Our agency has asked that you put our name in a note or on the memo line to make sure it goes to our account, and they will send you a tax-deductible receipt.

Of course, if you’d rather give to us directly, or by one of the means to the right, we would appreciate that too. All donors’ names will go on the picture frame surrounding the puzzles of the children whose faces will hopefully be home in a few short months. We would love to tell our children about the miracle that brought them home.

Are you a part of that miracle?

Love Unscheduled

/ kensrobin / 6 Comments

Five years ago, we brought two 8-lb Labrador retriever puppies into our home. They were a little bigger than the size of a bag of sugar, and perfect packages of puppy-smelling fuzzy love.

We gave them names that matched: Buddy and Holly. While they were from the same litter, they could not be any more different.

Buddy is 95 pounds of nap-loving, drooling bliss. He loves kisses, snuggles, and hearing his name. He wags his tail if I come within 15 feet of where he is. He wags his tail when I sneeze or smile. He wiggles and wags his tail when he falls off the bed, or when he runs in to trash cans while on a walk. He’s terrified of the sound of a fork on a plate, fireworks, and being in the kitchen. But his fears are balanced by his abundance of love. When we take him out in public, he beams with excitement with every new person he meets, as if the purpose of the existence of others is merely so Buddy can love them. He isn’t the most intelligent dog, but you won’t find one who is better natured, at least 98% of the time. The other 2% is in the morning when he first wakes up. He’s not exactly a “morning dog.”

Holly is much more the morning dog. She lies wide-eyed in wait for my alarm to go off in the morning, so that she can pounce on both Ken and I and lick us into a wakeful state before she attacks Buddy with the same enthusiasm – hence his grumpiness. Holly has no snooze button, and the word “Saturday” means nothing to her. She is incredibly easy to train, very intelligent, and we’re pretty sure she understands most of what we say. At times we are thankful that she doesn’t have opposable thumbs, because we’re fairly certain she would lock us out and have the house to herself. She is our “busy girl” and is very scheduled, knowing when it is time to wake, sleep, walk, eat, and even when she wants affection. She has specific times in the day that we are allowed to lavish affection on her, but she is not receptive if she’s not in the mood. Try to pet her or scratch behind her ears at the wrong time, and we’ll get a sneeze of disgust or she’ll merely leave the room. We believe she may be part cat.

Two different dogs from the same litter, and we love them both dearly.

At times, I see my relationship with God in my dogs. In all of my scheduling, discipline, and planning, do I leave enough time for spontaneous expressions of love for my Heavenly Father? Do I wiggle with delight when God’s presence is even near? While it is wonderful to have scheduled times of devotion and reflection, are those the only times of the day when I express my love toward God, and open my heart for His love toward me? I know it bothers me that I can’t lavish affection on Holly unless it’s the right time of day, or if she’s in the right frame of mind. I wonder if God is offended when I quarantine His presence to a designated time on my calendar.  It’s not that I don’t love Holly, it’s just that she makes loving her more difficult. How many times have I missed God’s expressions of love for me because I’m a “busy girl”?

The more I know and love God, the more I realize that the love of God will not be quarantined. Either I am open to Him, or I will miss out. And in response, I want to lavish reckless amount of love on God, as if the only reason for my existence was just to love Him.

Even if it’s not on schedule.

Trekkin’ with the Stars

/ kensrobin / 4 Comments

One of the fabulous things about living in Nashville is how many awesome things there are to do for free, if you keep yourself aware of what’s going on. Case in point: The Star Trek Convention at Opryland Hotel. Located less than 5 miles from our house, Opryland features a wealth of people-watching opportunities on any ordinary day.

But this was no ordinary day.

Hundreds of people from around the country gathered to celebrate science fiction’s finest: Star Trek.

Having accidentally gone to a Star Trek movie opening night back in 1996, we have come to realize a true Trekkie has a passion for not only knowledge of the series, but of costuming as well. While we are not Trekkies or even Trekkers (Did you know the difference? Neither did I, until Ken explained it to me this afternoon.), Ken has seen every Star Trek episode of every series. I, on the other hand, have probably seen all of the original series, most of Next Generation, and well, it really trails off after that.

What we do really appreciate is the enthusiasm of Star Trek fans, who celebrate a subculture that is rich in characters, scientific theory, and imagination.

Plus their costumes are pretty cool.

After a tip from an employee, we made our way to Opryland Hotel, and found free parking, but paid ample compensation for its use in the hefty walk that we had to embark on to get there. We had no idea where we were going to, until said employee tipped us off to which ballroom we were looking for.

With determination on our faces, and curiosity in our hearts, we walked through at least three other conventions with purpose, so as not to be suspected as intruders. Finally, we made it to the mothership: a lobby lined with booths filled with Star Trek merchandise, and costumed adults and children wandering around with pride.

We have no idea if we were allowed in, but seeing no signs posted otherwise, we walked in. We soon found a booth selling ID tags from every nerdy drama series on television from 24 to Big Bang theory to NCIS. And of course Star Trek. We purchased two tags to identify our own inner nerdhood. Ken chose an ID tag from the USS Enterprise, and me, from the Dharma Initiative. Oh yes. They supported all forms of science fiction.

Once we had our tags and made it around the booths, we began to feel more comfortable and started to take pictures. One thing that we immediately noticed . . . okay, that Ken immediately noticed. . .  was that FANS were dressed in costumes, where STARS were dressed in street clothes.

Ken attempted to get his picture with some guy who played a mythical creature from Deep Space Nine, but instead ended up with a costumed guy who HAD just taken his picture with said mythical creature.

Then I saw a gathering of ladies from various generations of Trekking, and I had to take pictures. Then I asked if I could join for a photo. Ken took a picture, and then I noticed that there were close to a dozen other people who had gathered and were taking pictures of me with them as well.

I was totally confused. Why would they want my picture?

Until Ken pointed out to me that STARS were in street clothes. My apparel, combined with my non-matching name tag had apparently pegged me as a Star Trek STAR!

Oh no, I thought, if they ask me a single question about Star Trek, I’ll fold. I can’t maintain the fan facade if they question me or ask for an autograph! I became desperately aloof.  Ken started an engaging conversation with the agent who represents all Star Trek Captains, and I wandered off, praying that no one would ask me anything, even though I was apparently famous.

Soon, the crowd thinned out as William Shatner began his apparently hilarious keynote address. We too, went our own separate (and free) way to the remainder of the hotel. Though the photo ops were now gone, we had just had a great Star-Date.

(Get it? Star? Date? Stardate? We had a great Star-Date? Oh well, go ask a Star Trek fan.)

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Foodtruckery and Friendships Are Best Served Steamed

/ kensrobin / 2 Comments

Today’s food truck adventure was shared by our across-the-street neighbors, Katie and Karl. We had planned to meet at 11:00 a.m. to head out to the Woodbine Farmer’s Market, where Riff’s food truck was scheduled to be, but we awoke early to a heavy rainstorm. A slowly moving rainstorm.

Not a great atmosphere for foodtruckery.

So I hung out on Twitter while working on Monday’s lecture, and sure enough, the storm broke around 10:00 a.m., and Riff’s tweeted around 10:30 that they were at the farmer’s market and were open for business!

Game on!

We rushed to get ready, and then suddenly realized that we didn’t have any cash. With just ten minutes to spare, Ken asked me if he should run to the ATM a 1/2 mile away to get cash. Ummmm. Okay. I would finish getting ready, go over to Katie and Karl’s to let them know that Ken was coming right back.

Ken left. I got ready. And as I was walking out the door to go tell K2 that he was coming back, I saw them pull out of their driveway, presumably thinking that we had left without them. Oh Noooo! I tried to call them, and then realized that Katie’s cell phone number is on my old phone, which is now dead.

Meanwhile, Ken went to one ATM, and found that it was out of service, so he had to search for another. So he was running late!

Eventually, we got to the farmer’s market and were able to join Karl and Katie for a selection of Riff’s awesome cuisine. K2 graciously forgave us for our ill-timed ATM run, and let us move on to a wonderful brunch.

Katie and I opted for the breakfast selection of Bananas Foster French Toast. The warm French toast was smothered in a wonderful sweet banana sauce, and sprinkled with powdered sugar.  It was bananalicious.

Ken and Karl went for the lunchtime Jerk Chicken Burrito, which was different from the last time Ken had one, but still every bit as delicious. The curried rice and spiced jerk chicken were cooled by the slaw and wrapped in a soft flour tortilla.

Then we felt bad for leaving out the Blackened Fish Tacos, and so we all split an order of those. After all, if you’re going to try fish tacos for the first time, we are confident that Riff’s is going to do it right. And they did!  

To top it off, we enjoyed Watermelon Lemon-Limeade, a perfect watermelony refreshment to a day when the temperature was creeping up by the minute.

We  laughed through lunch, as the sun began to peer through the clouds, and we watched as the farmer’s market shut down and packed up at noon. Riff’s too began to pack up for the day, when suddenly, the chef came jogging over to our picnic table with four lemon blueberry custard desserts, just for us.

Riff’s, you had me at “lemon,” but the blueberry made my taste buds sing. It was like a blueberry lemon meringue pie that felt no need to be distracted by a crust.

By the time we finished dessert, the summer sun had transformed the bygone rain into a steamy sauna, and we decided that the remainder of the day was waiting to be tackled. Drowsy from a delicious lunch, and happy from spending time with special friends, we were indeed victorious in this week’s adventures in foodtruckery.

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Counting Sheep

/ kensrobin / 1 Comment

A guest post by Ken

My absolute earliest memory of church is sleeping on my mom’s lap during a choir performance. Apparently, I had been dressed up like a little lamb. The song the choir was singing was based on the parable of the shepherd leaving the ninety-nine to find the one lost sheep (Luke 15). The shepherd wandered up and down the aisles of that school auditorium (the Saint John First Wesleyan Church was still under construction) until he “discovered” me. It’s safe to say I was adorable.

As a Christian, I freely admit that I have been that lost sheep. I have wandered far from the safety of the fold. I have been lost and afraid in dark and dangerous places and wondered if I would ever find my way back home.

Because Jesus has rescued me and called me His own, I now feel compelled to share His love. I want to be part of His mission. I want to be a shepherd as well. I want to reach out with God’s love and change my world. The words of James, the brother of Jesus, ring in my ears, “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.” (James 1:22) It’s not enough for me to SAY that I want to help other people. I actually want to make a lasting difference. Not for my sake, but for God’s glory.

This summer I watched and prayed for a number of college students from our church as they set out to share God’s love in Europe. I am so proud of them for the boldness and compassion they displayed. Another group, also from our church, prepares even now for next summer and their trip to Kenya. Again, I pray and support them whole-heartedly. They are going to Africa to partner with what God is doing there through World’s Servants.

Lord willing, some time this winter Robin and I will set out on our own very unique mission trip. We want to be like Jesus and go to where the hurting and hunger is great. We are convinced that if Jesus were walking the earth today, He would go and do whatever He could to help end the suffering.

People have asked me if it’s safe for us to travel to the Democratic Republic of Congo. I respond, “No! It’s not. That’s why we are going. Our children are there and we want to bring them home.” I wish that it were safe or easy or cheap. But it is none of those things. Yes, there have been stumbles and setbacks along the way. Frustrations and tears. Yet none of those things release us from what we believe God is calling us to do.

We believe God is calling us to leave the comfort and safety of our middle class suburban lives: to join with Him. And to rescue two children who need a permanent roof over their heads, food on the table, clothes on their back, and perhaps most of all a mother and a father who will tuck them in bed at night and tell them about the Good Shepherd who loves them more than they can ever imagine.