God's Precious Princess

I want you to look at these pictures.

Spend some time with them.

Absorb them.

Look into her eyes.

There's a story written there.

Can you read it?

A story of loss, abandonment, neglect ...

and redemption.

Meet Liliana.

She has lived her life as a neglected Down's Syndrome child, locked away behind orphanage walls in Eastern Europe for the last eleven years. Yes, this precious little princess is eleven years old. But she is only ten pounds. Ten pounds!!! That's the size of a large newborn! Instead of growing, Liliana's body has tried to use what little nourishment she has received to simply survive.

But worse than the physical neglect she has experienced is the stark fact that Liliana has no Mommy and Daddy to nourish her spirit. She is unwanted. Alone.

But not totally.

You see, we have a loving Heavenly Father who is a Father to the fatherless and who hears the heart-cry of every orphan. He knows Liliana. He loves Liliana. He has a plan for Liliana. And He has put the right people in the right place at the right time to accomplish His purpose for Liliana.

Just recently, a couple traveled to Liliana's orphanage to adopt their forever child. And then they met Liliana. They could have turned away. They could have scooped up their child and whisked off to their happy forever. They could have - like the Pharisee and the Levite in the parable of the Good Samaritan - pretended they didn't see.

But they didn't.

God touched their hearts with Liliana's need and they began advocating for her adoption. They have literally pulled her out of the shadows of that orphanage and propelled her into the spotlight. Many people are now blogging about her and pulling for her and praying for her. A Chip-In account was set up to fund her adoption in the event adoptive parents could be found. Within 24 hours, donations poured in and a total of $22,000 was raised! And the news just keeps getting better. Four sets of adoptive parents have stepped forward to request information about adopting her.

I believe in my heart that Liliana will soon be able to go home! After eleven long years of waiting, she will finally know the tender love of a family.

Isn't God good?!

Handprints on My Heart - Midweek Meditation

The title of my blog is "Handprints on My Heart." It refers to all the children who have passed through my life. Whether students or foster kids, nephews or nieces, friends or others, they have all left an imprint in my life - a handprint on my heart.

On Monday, we buried my dad. On that day I realized something. While others have left handprints, Mom and Dad have been holding my heart in their hands. They have always tried to protect my heart, guard it, strengthen it, and point it in the right direction. Now one pair of those supporting hands is gone. They lie folded in a dusty grave awaiting the life-giving call of the resurrection morning. My heart is left wounded and out of balance.

But it is still beating. Jesus' hands have slipped in to take Dad's place. Since Jesus has promised to be a "father to the fatherless," Psalm 68:5, His hands now hold my heart, protect it, strengthen it, and point it in the right direction. How thankful I am that I am not left alone. Even when I lose Mom, which I hope and pray won't be for a very long time, I know that my heart will still be safe. It is beating in the hands of God.

Here is the slide show shown at Dad's funeral. Eighty-two years in a little less than five minutes. Wow! The music is Dad's favorite song, "How Great Thou Art," by Chris Rice.



"I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you." John 14:18.

Fatherless

For the first time in all my forty years of life, I am fatherless. Dad died the way he lived ... quietly. Mom had prayed over him. He had summoned the last of his strength to tell her, "I love you," one last time and a few hours later he was gone. He slipped away in his sleep. At 6:44 Friday morning, I got the news.

For as old as I am and for as sick as he was, this shouldn't be a shock. But my mind still has difficulty grasping a reality I do not want to accept. Death has such a finality about it. There are things I still want to tell him. I just want to tell him the simple things, like how my day went. I want to share my joys and sorrows, my triumphs and disasters. I still want to hear him say, "I love you, sweetheart!" or "You did a good job!" There are events I still want to share with him. I want to introduce him to the newest additions to our family that will be coming, give him a tour of our new house once we're all moved in, and hear his words of approval. There is advice I still want to glean from him as I grow my business, especially since he had such a keen business mind. But that window of opportunity, called life, is now over. He is gone. And I am ... fatherless.

"For the living know that they will die, but the dead know nothing ... Their love, their hate and their jealousy have long since vanished; never again will they have a part in anything that happens under the sun." Ecclesiastes 9:5,6.

Thankfully, the Bible is clear that he is not gone forever. It'll just be a little while. Dad has no more discomfort. He has no knowledge of our sorrow. He is simply asleep.

"[Jesus] went on to tell them, 'Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.' His disciples replied, 'Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.' Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he meant natural sleep. So then he told them plainly, 'Lazarus is dead.'" John 11:11-14.

Someday, when Jesus returns to this world in all His heavenly glory, He will shout. His majestic voice will pierce through the tomb and my dad will rise from the dead. He will come out of his dusty grave healthy and vibrant with life. His congestive heart failure will be replaced with a heart that will beat throughout eternity. His stiff, weak legs that used to merely shuffle, will leap and bound with new energy. His cancer will be erased. And I will be fatherless no more.

"For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, the Christians who have died will rise from their graves. Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the Lord forever." I Thessalonians 4:16-17.

Today, I mourn. I weep at the memory of the father I loved and lost. But soon, I will dry my tears and pick myself up and work again. I am not the only fatherless child on this earth and there are younger ones who need my help. Only now I can understand a little more of what it truly means to be ... fatherless.


I miss you, Dad.

Prayers for the Orphans of Pakistan

Periodically, I receive the newsletter from Hand in Hand International Adoption Agency. Along with the usual welcomes to newly adopted kids and updates on what's happening in the countries this agency serves was a brief announcement that made my heart. just. stop.

This is what it said...

As many of you know, Hand In Hand began a program for abandoned and orphaned children in Pakistan a couple of years ago. Many families were involved in the program, stepping forward to open their hearts and homes to the little ones. Through the blessing of donors, Hand In Hand was about ready to open the doors of the first Christian Children’s Orphanage in Faisalabad, Pakistan, when our coordinator, Pastor Rashid and his brother Sajid were gunned down. The younger brother of these two saints has taken over their ministry. Even though the time is not right for opening an orphanage in Pakistan due to the unrest, the population of Christians has grown...

Would you stop for a moment and pray with me for the families of these brave men who were killed. Pray for the younger brother who is now picking up the pieces and continuing their ministry. Pray for the Christians of Pakistan that they will not lose courage. Pray for the orphans and those who are seeking to defend them.

The Gift of Family - Midweek Meditation

Dad is in Mexico. He's not on vacation, he's at a cancer treatment center. And it's quite a story on how we found it, but one that will have to wait for another telling.

On Thursday, July 14, Dad received the news that he had no hope of recovery. He walked into the doctor's office and walked out again with only the help of a cane. That day he fed himself. He used the bathroom by himself. He brushed his own teeth. By Tuesday, July 19, Dad was needing help with his hourly bathroom visits. By Friday, July 22, Dad's health had plummeted to the point of not even being able to feed himself. My younger sister, who lives in another state, arrived that day to help care for him.

For the next four days, Linda and I were on call 24-hours a day. She had left her children home with her husband and mine were home with Shawn. Showers, meals, and sleep schedules revolved around Dad's needs as he continued to weaken. My older sister, Anne, joined us for part of that time. By Tuesday evening, my youngest brother Richard arrived to relieve us. Anne returned as well. Linda flew home. I reunited with my family and melted into Shawn's arms, sobbing from exhaustion and sorrow.

Those four days were difficult and amazing all at the same time. On one of the mornings, my mom (a former foster child) stepped out of her room and said, "Isn't it wonderful that we have a family?" My four siblings and I have scrapped and squabbled all through our growing up years, but we have always known that family is precious. We just never knew exactly how blessed we have been.

Dad arrived at the clinic in Mexico on Wednesday, July 27, just thirteen days after his fatal news. Getting him down was a tag-team relay for our entire family. Linda booked plane tickets. Richard and Anne shaved and bathed Dad. I packed a month's worth of Dad's clothing, then drove Mom and Dad to the airport. John flew down with Mom and Dad to the clinic and returned home again that evening. During that entire day cell phones rang, emails flew, messages were texted - our family was abuzz with planning, scheduling, and communication.

Wednesday evening, after hearing Dad was comfortably settled at the clinic, we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. We had done it. We had worked together towards one common goal - to get Dad the help he needs - and accomplished it. The rest was in God's hands.

That night I lay in bed thinking for a long time. We don't know exactly how long we'll have our dad with us. For that matter, we don't know exactly how long we'll have each other. But to have a family, no matter how big or small, to have a team that pulls together when needed the most, is an amazing gift. Chills ran up and down my spine as I blinked away tears. "Lord," I prayed, before drifting off to sleep, "Let me give this precious gift of family to as many others as I can."

"God sets the lonely in families." Psalm 68:6.

My entire family (2009) minus one brother-in-law and my son.

Fresh Air Fund Hosting Program

A while back I wrote a post about a worthwhile program called Fresh Air Fund. This program matches inner-city kids with families in rural areas. These kids get to experience the sights and sounds of nature instead of the concrete and metal they are used to.

This summer, Fresh Air Fund has been able to match 650 of the 850 children in need of a summer experience. They have one week left in which to match those last 200 children. Are you available?.

Go here to learn more about this amazing organization and the dedicated people who run it.

Kisses from Katie

If you have never heard of Katie, you're in for a real treat. She is only 21, has already adopted 14 girls, and runs a ministry in Uganda. She is a powerful example of someone who has dedicated the days of her youth to God and been abundantly blessed. You too will be blessed and challenged when you read her book, "Kisses from Katie."

Here's a preview...

He Never Wanted Me to Adopt

I was fresh out of college, still single, and had just opened Small Cloud Christian School when I announced my plans to adopt. Dad was none to thrilled with my decision. He wanted me to get a bit more financially stable, marry, and settle down before starting a family. I was insistent. So was Dad. We went round and round. Finally, in frustration, I told Dad that he didn't have to accept my children, but would he please just let them call him, "Grandpa." He nodded. "I just don't want to see you get hurt." Suddenly, I realized the truth. He wasn't trying to crush my dreams. He was trying to protect me, his daughter.

My children came and not only did Dad allow them to call him Grandpa, he was Grandpa to all of them. He made no distinction between his biological grandchildren and his adopted ones. As each child entered the family, either by birth or adoption, he loved them all the same.

Now, day by day, cancer is stealing this precious man away from us. Today, for the first time, I shared with the kids how serious Grandpa's condition is. We knelt in prayer and the tears flowed for Grandpa. Alyssa crawled into my lap and sobbed. Maya shook her head sadly, and said, "Today's just not Grandpa's day." Quinn is keeping up by email, texts, and phone calls. He hopes to fly in this weekend. There's a heaviness in all our hearts.

Dad never wanted me to adopt, but he understood the calling God put on my heart. He laid aside his own fears for me and embraced my rather unorthodox family. Oh, how I love that man!

Grocery List Prayers - Midweek Meditation

Prayer is vital. It is the breath of the soul, the secret of spiritual power, the life-giving communion between an almighty God and mortal man. But for what do we spend the bulk of our time praying?

Often I have found my prayers sound a bit more like a grocery list than a conversation between a loving Father and His daughter. I'm sad to say, but they have sounded something like the following...

Dear Father,

Please grant me ...

1 ideal parking spot

6 good deals on plane tickets

2 hours of peace this afternoon

1 missing set of keys to be found

1 husband to pick me up on time

3 lone half-pairs of shoes to find their mates

enough money to complete our adoption

and so on...

And there's nothing wrong with praying for any of those things. But sometimes when we pray, we run through our list of wants/needs and stop there. We don't go deeper.

In Matthew 6, in the midst of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches His followers how to pray. He mentions physical needs oh so briefly. In fact all our bodily needs are summed up in one little sentence. "Give us this day our daily bread." Matthew 6:11. He requests enough provision for one day only. This day. Today. In fact, later on in the sermon (chapter) He encourages us to not make our physical needs our main focus at all. "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?" Matthew 6:25. "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." Matthew 6:33.

In the early part of the 1900s an American missionary named Gladys Aylward was scouting out new territory to evangelize in China. A Chinese doctor, a recent convert, accompanied her as her guide. As they traveled from village to village, Gladys taught the doctor more about Jesus. His devotion to Jesus grew. Together, Gladys and the doctor, shared the love of Jesus with those they met in the villages.

One day their travels took them into a wilderness area. Gladys and the doctor walked the whole

day without seeing anyone. Where were they? Towards evening Gladys feared they were lost. She began to worry. What would they eat? Where would they sleep? Finally, overwhelmed, she announced that they should drop to their knees and pray right that moment. Gladys began. "Dear God, have mercy on us. You can see what a plight we are in. Give us food and shelter for the night." She continued praying, filling her entire prayer with a list of their immediate needs. When she had finished, the doctor began. Very calmly he prayed, "O God, send us the one You want us to tell about Jesus. We have witnessed to no one today, but You have sent us here for some special purpose. Show us where to find the man You intend to bless." Gladys Aylward, missionary to China, was humbled and ashamed. She later wrote, "While I had been so concerned with my own comfort, this man was concerned only with His Father's business."

It wasn't long before a lone man was spotted on a nearby hillside. The doctor, sure that the answer to his prayer had just arrived, dashed off to share the good news of the gospel. That lone man turned out to be a Tibetan lama priest who invited the two of them to come to his lamasery and share the message of Jesus Christ with over 500 other lamas. Gladys and the doctor spent an entire week with them teaching them about God. Incidentally, their physical needs were provided for during that time as well.

Since reading this story, my prayer life has changed drastically. The bulk of my daily prayers are now, "Lord, give me someone to share Your love with." It's been amazing to see how God has answered.

Today, I challenge you to ask God to give you someone with whom to share the gospel. You won't ever be the same again.

By the way ...

If you're interested in learning more about the amazing life of Gladys Aylward, check out these resources. The middle one is a DVD for kids. My girls love it!

But He Still Wants to Live

I went with my dad to the oncologist today. Oncology is such an ugly word. I've never liked it. It gave me the shivers just to walk into the waiting room, almost like I was walking into a morgue. Maybe because that's how I feel.

My dad's cancer situation has gone from bad to worst. At 82 many people would say he's had a good life and no one lives forever, but many people don't know my dad.

Only six years ago my dad quit jogging when he moved to a location where it wasn't so easy to do. But up until last year, he continued to walk daily, do 50 sit-ups, push-ups, painting, car tune-ups, etc. He only wears glasses when he reads, has only one or two fillings, and his mind is as sharp as a tack.

But his body is failing him.

His mind is active and inquisitive. He loves to learn and interact with people and challenge himself. He notices everything!

But his body is giving out.

Today, when the oncologist gave his recommendations, I saw that fire in my dad's eyes once again and I thought, "But, he still wants to live!"

And then I carried Dad's belongings, just as he used to carry mine, and watched as he shuffled out the office door.