Out of reach

He's gone.
Well, not really.
He's still out there. He still exists.

Alok circa age 5-6

I'm just not his sponsor any more. Alok's project was closed, due to issues that did not align with Compassion's policies. He is out of my reach. The little reach that I had.

During the waiting period after finding out that it was likely to happen, I wrote Alok many "last letters" saying things that I wanted to make sure someone would tell him at least one more time in his life.

He may stay a little boy forever in my mind, but it would make me happiest to believe he grew up, that those few years he had were enough to direct him into a lifetime of growing up.


His pictures are still displayed on my wall. It makes me sad to think that there will be no more infrequent letters to update me on his life, no new picture in a year, showing his awkward growth spurt, and his determined face, and he will no longer receive letters telling him how much I love his determination, how handsome he is, or Christmas or birthday presents. Losing Alok is something I have been preparing myself to handle for a while now, but there are those pangs of sadness, those moments when I find the perfect little gift for him, or start mentally writing him a letter.

But he is not dead. It is weird, mourning the loss of someone who is still alive. Probably, to many minds, weirder still to mourn the loss of someone who has never been mine to lose. It's not something I really could explain anyway. I have no rights to him, no ability to protect him, but from the first day his picture appeared on my account, he has always been "my boy" complete with scuffed knees, and brief letters.

He was the first child to ever call me Auntie. He did so on a video that a fellow sponsor took of him when she was in India and took him to a science museum.

He was so thrilled by the museum. Alok was entranced by the aquarium. Every time I visit a museum, I wish he was there with me.

He once told me that his favorite thing about being at the Compassion project was the food, the games, and that no one beat him there. It relieved and broke my heart all at once.

The first real smile I got from him in a picture was with the second soccer ball he got as a gift from me. Ever since then, I've had this mental picture of him tearing up the dirt after his soccer ball full speed and determination, getting coated in dirt, earning those knee scuffs.

I'll miss my boy. I miss him already. I keep praying for him. I pray that God will wrap around him tightly, and protect him. I pray that Alok will passionately love and serve God. I pray that he will treat women with kindness and respect. I pray that he will not be taken in by the alcohol addictions so rampant in his area. I pray that God will protect him and comfort him beyond any beatings he may still endure.

He is out of my reach, but never out of God's. That is one of the hardest things to remember about life in general. It's easier to remember when it is the only option to accept.






Alok, never forget that you are valuable. God values you. I value you. You are loved and so very loveable. I pray that there are so many more in your life who feel the same way.











 Play hard, my boy. Grow up strong, Alok.

Grow up kind and godly. Grow up wise and filled with integrity. Grow up compassionate and inspired.

Most of all, keep growing up.

Thank you for your sponsorship of Alok Nath

"Our staff in East India recently indicated that the child development center Alok attends has not been able to meet all of Compassion's standards for ministering to children in need. We've been working to address these issues over the last 90 days, but have yet to come to a resolve. However, we are hopeful that we will come to a resolution in the next 60 days."
From the moment I read the "Thank you for your sponsorship of Alok"  my heart creaked, crackled, and warned of breakage. Some of you may remember that I have known in my spirit that Alok's center has been at risk for a long time. Recently, they were showing strides of improving, more recently, however I noticed they seemed to be falling back to old habits a little more.
I want Compassion to be careful with our money, I want them to insure that only projects that are running properly are being allow to stay in Compassion. If they close Alok's project, I know that it was not for lack of trying to save it first, and I think that is the best action, if it comes to that.

However.

My Alok.

My sweet boy.

The one who has a smile, but rarely uses it.

Who plays soccer, and studies hard.

The boy my heart wraps around.

My most difficult sponsorship yet.

What will he do? Where will he go? The project is so remote, if it closes, I doubt he can be transferred to a new one.

I pray they can get staff who are willing to lead the project Compassion's way, with God and love as their fuel and fire. I pray that no matter what, God will shelter Alok Nath.

             I received this beautiful smiling picture of Alok a few months ago, I had been waiting to share it until I could write a blog about it.

I need to write a preemptive farewell letter to Alok, now, just in case.

If it closes, Alok and I will be on the opposite sides of the world, sharing broken hearts.

My Favorite Frown

(this post was originally written May 20, 2011, but I had written it on OurCompassion.org and I really wanted to have this on my blog, to keep Alok's story fluid)

A while ago, I sent 2 "just because" presents on the same day, one for Abigail in Ghana, and one for Alok in East India.  For those who don't remember, Ghana is really fast about responding.  Today, I got a thank you letter and a photo for the gift from one of the kids.  At the first instant, my brain could not reconcile why a picture of Alok had been attached to Abigail's letter, and then it all clicked to together, and I realized, Alok's thank you note actually beat Abigail's!  Amazing!
I sent the gift with a note that a small portion should be used to buy Alok something that would delight him, and I gave a few suggestions of ideas. Can anyone guess which item he chose for his fun item?  It shouldn't be hard!

"Thank you so much for you precious and beautiful gift. I was so happy when I got it. By your gift money I have bought... one pairs of pants and a shirt, sneakers, sweats, and one football."

Which item do we think he considers "precious" and "beautiful"? Is there any doubt? (Notice, there's still an opaque plastic bag, but this time, it's underneath the items, instead of vice versa! I'm fine with that.  Also, just look at how gangly he's getting! My square little 5 year old is growing up into a gangly 8 year old!)

Yes, his face is still frowning. It's a rare picture of Alok that catches him smiling. Honestly, I have come to love that frown of his, because he is such a serious little one.  This photo is my favorite frown however, because I know that later his brow will be furrowed with determination, and dripping with sweat, as he takes his beautiful new football out and plays every boy in the neighborhood. Later, when he clambers home as the sun sets, stinky, dusty and satisfied, he'll tuck that ball safely away near his sleeping mat before going to bed, and the ball will remind him, "My auntie loves me." 

And to me, having Alok know he is loved is better than any smiling photo.


(Addition: A several months later, a picture arrived of him with his soccer ball and a grin. Bonus!)

Grins look good on him, too

Putting Roots Down

In life, it seems one of the most regular and necessary lessons to needing to be learned is that you need to learn to grow where you are planted. I have spent a lot of time studying that particular lesson, and I have come to the conclusion that it's not likely I'll ever be an oak, as those are plants that tend to put down roots in one place and grow in that one place until they die.

My life seems to lean towards a more mobile style of growth. What kind of plant that makes me, I'm not exactly sure, and I'm not sure I really want to find out. That might ruin the fun of growing. What I do know is that during all this time I have been working on learning on growing where I am planted, I really have not had much of a chance to plant where I'm growing.

 

This home in the trailer is the first time in 8 years that I have had a space that is mine enough to invest the effort, time, money, and patience required to make plants grow. Lately, I have been playing in the dirt, and loving it! The color and life that greets me as I pull into my driveway brightens my spirits every time. The soil here is rather neglected. In fact, when digging in the sand, soil, gravel mix that is behind my trailer, I am always afraid that when it dries, I will return to accidental pavement!

Because of the state of the soil, and the flexible nature of the place I live, I've invested most of my time and plants into pots. This allows me to move the plants whenever the environment changes (for example, my neighbor got a larger trailer, turning one of my "full sun" areas into a "mostly dark" area).

Some of my seedlings are coming up beautifully. For any of you who are more of the "instant gratification" sort than the "patience is its own reward" sort, plant sunflowers! I think I probably would have gone mad waiting for my other seedlings to show if the sunflower seedlings had not sprung up so quickly. Seriously, I think I checked the dirt at least 3 times a day starting on the day I planted the seeds. Being accustomed to horticultural failure, I planted lots of seeds.  Surprisingly, a majority of the sunflower seeds came up...which made spacing the seedlings into quite an interesting event. If everything goes as I hope, I will have decorative sunflowers beaming at me from all corners of my little lot of dirt. The California poppies on the, other hand, I've seen 3 so far, and I killed one. I hear they are hardy little plants, but I guess you have to let them do their own thing.

A special thanks must go out to my friend Judy, who sent me home with several terra cotta pots, which hold the respected place of the-only-pots-I-own-that-aren't-plastic! Also, to my Dad who keeps providing with the tools I need to make things a little easier, and gave me the only half of my genetics that stand a chance at not killing the plants.

So, my nails are dirty, my plot of dirt looks like I live here, and it makes me happy. This is one of those little things in my life that please me greatly right now.

I may be in a temporary life stage right now, but at least I can put some roots down somewhere!

Thanks for reading.

...Wait

 A while ago, I had put myself on a "wish list fast", because I had found that all of my prayers seemed to be little more than a grocery list for God to fulfill. What I needed was a stint of time where I didn't ask God to give me things and fix my life, but instead thanked him for what he was doing, and asked only for guidance.
Toward the end of last year, I felt that God had given me permission to try something new: "Ask, and then wait."

I have a tendency to request something from God and then go out and work myself into exasperation trying to attain it. I am a lot like Abraham's wife, Sarah. I find myself trying to help hurry God along in his promises.

So, on the corner of my blue dry erase board I wrote, "Dear God, I would really like a home please." I left it up on the corner for two months of nervous waiting.

Then God provided me with a trailer: an affordable, and generally nice, just right for me space.

Once moved into my trailer, living on my suddenly very small income, I came to a pressing realization: I needed a job. The possibilities looked very bleak.

God must have laughed. My dear, sweet, silly child... Wait.

He saw my need for reassurance, though, and he had compassion on my frail heart.

It had been stormy all week, and on the night before my birthday, I fantasized to myself, "I would really love it if the sun would shine for my birthday."

My birthday was beautifully shiny day. I grinned and thought it was a wonderful coincidence. Dear, sweet, silly child. Wait.

I thought to myself as I went about the morning, "I would really like to treat myself to frozen yogurt from Yogurtland." But the day got busy, and I didn't have time to stop.

I had to go to my parents' house, and on the way over, I stopped at the grocery store to pick up something for my mom. At the register there was a display of Hostess Cupcakes. Maybe you don't know this, but before I went gluten free, Hostess Cupcakes were my cigarettes...it was like a 3 pack a day habit. I lingered on the thought of, "What I wouldn't give for a Hostess Cupcake!" as I made my purchase.

Not more than 5 minutes later, I walked into my parents' house. Mom led me to the kitchen, where 18 home made, gluten free Hostess Cupcake mock-ups (complete with the white swirl of icing on top) were sitting on the counter waiting for me. They were excellent! I heard myself repeating, "I was just wishing for these!" What a crazy coincidence.

Dear, sweet, silly child. Wait.

Basking in the glory of my surprise, I got a call from my friend Laura. She asked if she could meet me, because she had a treat for me. She came to my parents' house.

Her gift? A bowl of Yogurtland frozen yogurt. She said apologetically, "I hope you like the flavors I chose, I sort of guessed." Laura happened to guess my two absolute favorite flavors: Red Velvet Cake Batter, and Rootbeer Float.

What a coincidence.  Silly child.

This story may seem pointless to you, but it was very special to me. I didn't realize the impact it would have on me as it was happening. The moments were just happy little events as they were happening.

As I drove home, pondering in the silence of the car, I felt God's knowing smile as all connected. I had three small wishes for my day. All three were things I could easily live without, but God coordinated them for me before I had even managed to desire them that day.

God cares enough for me to pull something special together, to give me a day where the frivolous, childish desires of my heart were fulfilled, not because I needed those things, but because He wanted to show me that he is into the details. I needed his reminder that he hears all the desires of my heart, the frivolous ones, too.

I felt like the card attached to the day said,

"Happy Birthday, dear one! I love you and you are very special to me. If you think that was great, wait until I get to the important stuff! Love, God."

I know that we spend our whole lives hearing about how God will provide for us, but like the Israelites in the desert, I tend to need a lot of reminding. This was enough. I still didn't have a job at the end of the day, and honestly, I didn't know how ends were going to meet, but the panic was gone. I was reassured that however it was going to happen, God is good at the details and He cares about my frail heart.

Less than a month later, a job came pounding on my front door, and when I tried to bolt the door, God was kind enough to place a friend there to throw the door open for me. The job fits my needs perfectly right now, and it showed up at just the right time (not a second sooner). The best part is, God's provision doesn't stop here. It doesn't stop at finding me a new home, or landing me a job.

In the long view of things, those details are insignificant, and I feel loved because God takes care of the insignificant things for me, too.

It is often hard for me trust God to give me what I feel is important. I fight and wear myself out trying to do His job for Him so he can give me what I want RIGHT NOW.

I really just need to remember to ask, stand back... and Wait.

Big, Tangible Dream

Have you ever read The Tale Of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo? If you haven't then rush out, find a copy and read it. It's a really good story. I don't want to hear you whine about how it's a written for 4th and 5th graders, and you're much too grown up to be caught reading a childrens book. It's worth it.

Believe it or not, this post isn't actually about books. It's just that when I was thinking about typing this post, a passage from the book came to mind. There's a woebegone character in the book named Miggery Sow, and she has a truly awful story. She spends the entire book being told, "Nobody cares what you want, Mig!" She spends her entire story life waiting for someone to care about what she wants.

Human beings are driven to dream. It's more than just a lust to have or do more. People without dreams die. If we couldn't allow ourselves to ever dream, we couldn't allow ourselves to be loved by God.

The reason Miggery comes to mind was because I was thinking about something I want. Something I REALLY want. For some reason, this brought Miggery Sow to mind, and it occurred to me how awful it would be to have to live like Miggery Sow: a life where no one cares about your dreams, and should you ever dare to dream, you are punished, scoffed, and beaten rather than encouraged.
 
Personally, I have always been a rampant dreamer. Big dreams, little dreams, fickle dreams, heartfelt dreams, heart wrenching dreams, I entertain them all.

I have been fortunate to be allowed to live the opposite life of Miggery Sow. I have people in my life who listen to my dreams and say, "So, how are you going to get there?" and "You can do that." and "Let me help." You, blogfriend, are probably thinking of at least one person who has done this for you, too.

The hard part about writing this blog is that Miggery Sow's story is true. She's a million true stories. Not in the book. No, it's a fictional book. What I mean to say is, as I thought about my dreams, and then Miggery Sow,

I realized that there are so many people who live Miggery Sow's life: a life so harsh that nobody cares what they want, nobody encourages dreaming, and any dreaming that slips out gets squashed immediately.

Honestly, I had started this post to go in to depth about what I've been dreaming:

This is Magarette, nickname "Liline." She is 13, and I have been sponsoring her since she was 9. She lives in Haiti. Ever since the day I sponsored her, I have wanted to go to Haiti to meet her, and every year, the desire intensifies.

That's the big want I was going to blog about, but I think, now that it's written down, the better focus of this blog is on the people who don't get to spout their dreams freely.

 Liline dreams.

She has people encouraging her to do so(I know, I get to be one of them). Liline dreams about going to college and becoming a teacher. Liline dreams about her sponsor coming to meet her, and feeding her sponsor corn, and having her sister sing for her sponsor. Don't worry about Liline. She dreams well. Liline has parents who care. Liline has Compassion International. Liline has a sponsor who cares, too. Most importantly, Liline knows that God cares.

Part of the reason Liline can dream, though is because Compassion International works in her area. They work with her parents to help provide her with an education, and they spend time with Liline, encouraging her, daring her to dream, and prodding her to achieve those dreams.

It is a combined effort. Compassion weeds, tills and nourishes the dirt, plants the seeds, and then the sponsor gets to help by adding a little water. The sponsor gets to come along after the hard work is done and confirm what Compassion has been trying to get across by saying, "It's true: you are worthwhile. Your dreams do matter."

Liline is taken care of. Don't worry about her.

However, there are many children waiting for someone's encouragement to dream, and some of those children don't have parents who understand the need for encouragement or the importance of dreams, because they have never been allowed dreams for themselves. And then some of those children don't have parents.

People need to be able to dream, because if they can't dream, then they can't come anywhere near imagining that there is a God who loves them, who cares about their dreams. Who sacrificed himself for them.



I don't want this to sound like a sales pitch. I hate those. Sales pitches are followed by buyer's remorse. I don't want that to happen here.

I just want to ask you:

Would you like to help grow a dreamer?

Because if you do, Compassion International is a great way to do it.

All it takes is $38 dollars a month, and some ink on paper.

The money helps pay for Compassion's work with the children, and if you really want to encourage a child to dream then a write letter every month or so (the ink on paper) to the child.

The letters are where the real growth happens, because if you write those letters, then every time that child is told in some way,

"You are worthless. Nobody cares about your hopes!"

that child has a letter in his pocket from his sponsor that says, "Don't listen to those lies. I care. You are valuable. Tell me about your dreams. You can do it."

It doesn't seem like it requires much for such a big promise, does it?



If Miggery Sow had a sponsor, her story might have turned out differently. Some one could have told her, "Your dreams are tangible! Keep dreaming!"



Miggery Sow is a fictional character.






But these kids aren't fictional, and neither are their dreams.






Thanks for reading.

Literacy Conclusion

Here's a post that is far overdue! I have failed in reporting to those of you who are curious, but I did not fail in my personal literacy challenge. This blog should have been written in December, however, in December I was moving and could not locate the books I had read. Actually, I still can't locate all of those books I read. I missed several months of reporting near the end of the year (Apparently, September- December... no big deal, just a quarter of the year), and honestly, I am struggling to remember all of the books I read during the last 3 months of the year. The reason? I was in school. School that happens in 8 week spurts. School that requires at least a chapter of textbook reading a week.

I know that in September I read The Golden Compass by Phillip Pullman, Song Yet Sung by James McBride, Small Steps by Louis Sachar, and No Quick Fix by Keith Phillips. Sometime in October through December, I also read Helpless by Barbara Gowdy, The Mirror Crack'd From Side to Side by Agatha Christie, and at least 2 other books that I cannot remember no matter how I try.

The Golden Compass- Not really my cup of tea. This surprised me, but there it is. It drew me in, and then made me hang around and wait a really long time for it to end. It was dark. It had some interesting religious elements in it that did not bother me, but I would warn parents of preteens and early teens to be aware of before handing to their young readers. Would I suggest it to someone else? Not really. It wasn't poorly written, I just didn't enjoy it.

Song Yet Sung- A story about a runaway slave, slave hunters, and their surrounding world. The slave continually receives visions of modern day America throughout the book, and it baffles and terrifies her. I really enjoyed this book. It's one of those books that I gulped down fast because I couldn't get enough of it, and when it was done, I lamented not savoring it better. Would I recommend this book? Yes!

Small Steps- This book is a follow up book to Holes, but it really has little do with Holes content. It follows Theodore (Armpit) after he gets out of Camp Greenlake. Theodore works hard to turn over a new leaf, and grows an elderly brother fondness for the neighbor girl, who is often picked on because she is physically disabled. It was an interesting book, a sweet, teenagery story, and I enjoyed it, but it is entirely outside of the genre I expected it to be. Would I suggest this book? Yes, but it's not one that I would suggest someone rush out and find it to read it right now.

No Quick Fix is a collection of stories put together to share the reasoning of Dr. Phillips' approach to ministering to the inner-city. It was an informative read, and even interesting. If you are interested in the working of the inner-city and effective forms of ministry within it, pick this one up: yes.

Helpless- This book is about a young Canadian girl who gets kidnapped. It is told from multiple sides, including the kidnapper's side. The kidnapper is a man with pedophilic tendencies (something I had not known when I started the book) who is determined not to act on them. I curse the book for drawing me in, because honestly, it gave me the creeps. It was not poorly written (definitely not), it was just really disturbing (though never graphic). The disturbing factor was not because of physical activities, but mental activities. To put it plainly, I don't want to be able to think like the book leads you to think. Would I suggest this book? No! It disturbed me too much!

The Mirror Crack'd from Side to Side- this is the first Agatha Christie I have ever finished (not the first one I have started, though). I have never been an appreciator of mystery novels. Recently, however, I seem to have turned over a partially new leaf. I really enjoyed this book, and look forward to picking up another Agatha Christie sometime. Yes, I would suggest this book.

Wow, this is a really long post.... I feel like it needs photos. I have no photos at the moment.

As for the Literacy Challenge, in it's entirety, I enjoyed it. There were a few months where I was very stressed in trying to pull off my personal reading, but I succeeded every time. Most months, I succeeded in reading multiple books.

The grand total of fun books for 2011 is........28!

As I think back over the year, my favorite reads were: Song Yet Sung, Parrot and Olivier in America, Unshaken, and Beezuz and Ramona.

As for 2012, I haven't continued the Literacy Challenge, simply because life has been so very busy. Honestly, I miss it. I miss being immersed in literature of all levels. I have a book I have been casually reading. It's huge. Who knows how long it will take me to finish it.

2012 aside, I'm pretty proud of Literacy Challenge, 2011. Would I suggest it? Yes.

Home, content, and tired.

I realize I have let this blog fall dormant for a while. For those of you who are wondering, I did succeed in my literacy challenge every month last year, even though I have yet to post the last 2 or 3 months of updates.

Moving into my trailer was a sudden, and all consuming flurry of activity. Things are finally settling down a little in that area. They are about to speed up in other areas, but it's nice to be able to retreat to a settled home.

The reason it took so long for an announcement about the trailer has to do with the flurry of activity, as well as I just could not settle on the words that seemed fitting. (That is also the reason you finally got a post of all photos). Maybe later, I will come up with words about it.

I'm in two classes this semester, and even though the classes are only two days a week, they seem to be able to consume the rest of the week as well. I forgot how much fortitude and endurance it required to be a student. I remember why I worked so hard to graduate.

So, here it is, a note to evidence my actual existence. I aim to do better in being more regular in blogging, but we shall see.

Thanks for checking up on me. I'll have more for you soon.

No place...