Beautiful Wazhma

Where to begin....?  We've been so busy, my family and the Shahzaman family both.  In January we accomplished a lot of "starting."  The kids started school, their mom and adult sisters started processes of applying for aid as refugees here in Maine.  And then there has been the waiting.

February has been a strange mix of racing and waiting.  We've been at countless meetings and appointments, visits with housing authorities, dental clinics, schools, learning centers, errands.  We have filled out mountains of paperwork.  (Have I mentioned MOUNTAINS?????)  And then we are told to wait.

"Our" Shahzaman family (as Selden and I have come to know them in our hearts!) are a family of people so amazing and so real and so strong, I don't even know where to begin to describe all I love about them. But I'll give it a whirl.  There is so much to say about each of these people I love, so it will take a few days, and I'll talk about them one at a time, ok?

Wazhma is so tender-hearted and so funny.  One day she and I were driving to the human service office to inquire about her Refugee Assistance, and we made it toward Bangor, and then she asked me something about documents, which I said she needs to have with her.  So we turn around, drive back to the hotel where they're still living (Lord bring them a home soon, please, in Jesus' name, and thank you in advance for this answered prayer).  She shows me what she has for papers, while we're in the parking lot, only to find out she had what we needed and was asking about some documents for her upcoming hair apprenticeship.  So we sat in the car and laughed, because so often we don't understand each other, and all we can do is just laugh and hug (and then go to Mc Donald's for a caramel frappe - her favorite).  So after hugging - and getting a frappe - we began our drive back to human services.

Wazhma said to me while we were driving, "I think one day I go to India, because I think there are very big (meaning "many") hungry children there.  And hungry children is no good."  I agreed with her.  She continued, "Is there very big ("many") Christian people in India?" I told her, "No, very small ("few") but very big other religions there."  She told me, "I think we will go and be very big Christians.  And we feed hungry children there."

I swallowed hard.

A few evenings before this, Wazhma and I were walking through WalMart at about 7:30 with her mom, gathering some groceries for their family.  I hadn't wanted to go.  I was tired.  (And I really don't love WalMart, no offense.)  We walked up and down the aisles, and Wazhma and I were talking a little, examining food items and trying to determine what they were equivalent to in Ukraine.  Her stomach growled, and she patted it and said, "I hungry!" I asked her if she'd eaten at all, and she said, "No today."

Conviction washed over me, hot and hard to bear.  I ate three times that day.  And I didn't feel like being at WalMart, and my friend Wazhma had not eaten anything and was hungry.  Lord, forgive me....

And my sister-friend Wazhma,  who herself (despite my valiant efforts to make sure they have ample food and trips to the store and meals and everything) is sometimes hungry, has a heart that hurts for the hungry bellies of little ones in India.  Have I told you how much I love this woman?

One day, after a day packed with errands and meetings and school visits, Wazhma and I went to the Brewer Library, so I could get books for Sagie and she could get some for Roma, who is 7.  Wazhma wants to help him with his alphabet and his English.  At the desk, I told the librarian that Wazhma needs a card, that yes, she is a Brewer resident, and Wazhma shuffled through her various documents to find the necessary photo ID.  "What is her address?" I was asked.  After giving the address at the Inn, I was told, "Oh, we don't give cards to people at the Inn.  We've had problems with that before."  "What!?" I was stunned.  "Can she use your card?" I was asked.  "She is a Brewer resident," I told them, "and she would like her own card.  She has 5 siblings in school here in Brewer, and she wants to read to her little brother, who's in Mrs. Raymond's first grade class, so he can learn his letters."  "Can she use your card, then?" I was asked again.

I cried.  I stood at the desk in the Brewer library and I actually cried.  (I am not a crier-in-public, ok?) Then I said, without pausing for air, and with tears rolling and voice shaking, "She is a refugee, and she came to this country and was in a Muslim housing project even though she's a Christian, and her family is now in Maine, and she is my friend.  I've known them for a couple years, and she is not going to steal your books or not return them. She lives in Brewer.  The five kids are in school here, and they're not just going to up and leave with these books.  Can she PLEASE have a card of her own?  This is SO undignified! She has NOTHING of her own now, and all she wants is a library card, so she can read to her little brother!" I wiped my eyes.  Shelley, a librarian who I've known for years came over and smiled at us, and she took a library card out and issued it to Wazhma (I am a big fan of Shelley).  Wazhma and I left with our stacks of books.

In the parking lot we walked, arms around each other's shoulders, to the van.  "Maybe this is a very bad day!" she said, and we squeezed each other and laughed.  "Yes," I said, "but tomorrow a good day." She agreed, and we laughed a little more.  Sometimes that's all you can do after crying in the library.

Wazhma is stunning.  Beauty personified.  And to see her heart....  Oh my goodness.  The story her life has been up to this point is something I am still learning of in bits and pieces, through her broken English and her emphatic gestures and expressions.  But the message always comes through.  She has seen a lot of hard places.  She has lived through more fear and hurt and loss than I will probably ever know in my whole lifetime, and she is still tender-hearted, warm, open.  Quick to laugh.  Filled with hope even when weary from the long months of waiting for something that feels like roots being put down in this new country.  And it is not easy. 

Today, will you pray with me specifically for my sweet friend Wazhma?  She is hoping to start apprenticing at The L Factor with my childhood buddy Gina, and I am praying that all her documents can be perfectly provided so this can start soon.  I'm praying for her future here to be blessed.  And I am praying for her to be in a permanent home very soon.  Bangor Baptist is still accepting donations to help pay their ever-growing hotel debt, and if you are moved in your heart to give a gift of any amount toward this, it is tax-deductible and is greatly appreciated and can be sent to:
Bangor Baptist Church
1476 Broadway  
Bangor, Maine 04401 
(memo: Refugee Assistance). 


"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.... What, then, shall we say in response to this?  If God is us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare his own Son, but gave im up for us all - how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?" Romans 8:28 & 31, 32

Substance of Things Hoped For

We've been back for almost three weeks, I think, and I haven't really posted anything about our trip to Ukraine.  Please let me say I'm sorry about that.  So many of you gave your time, bought gifts, made generous donations, prayed faithfully, and I promised to keep you posted, and I haven't done well with that at all.  And it's not because I haven't thought of it.  I've actually thought of little else.  It's just that I haven't been able to sit and write without crying.

There is no way that I could have ever known how deeply personal, how intensely emotional and how heart-stoppingly overwhelming this whole experience would have been.  I knew it would be unforgettable.  I knew I would cry when I first met Sasha.  I knew that when my eyes fell on his face in a crowd of people, I would mark that instant as a gift from my Father in heaven.  I knew our friends Oksana and Ania would be amazing.  And I knew it would be excrutiating to leave all of these people behind and return home.  But I didn't know how much this week would level my heart and bring me to a screeching halt and render me wordless (wonder of wonders).  I didn't know I would feel like I was leaving home and saying goodbye to my children both times I boarded the plane.  Truly, I could not even speak of this week without floods of tears (on airplanes, in airports, even a week later in the grocery store parking lot!).  So I just haven't known how to put all this into words.

But I need to try.

You have all been part of what God did in our family while we were in Ukraine.  So I will begin to try to put into words the indescribable goodness of God we experienced in our trip to Sunshine.

This exact moment, it was a gift from the hand of God.  Each of our moments are.  But this one, it's one I can mark to the second.  Capture in a photo.  Keep tucked in my heart. A perfectly ordinary-looking moment containing the invisible substance of an answered prayer.  

And I recall that "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen." (Hebrews 11:1) This moment.  This walking out the doors of an airport amidst throngs of strangers and also amidst long prayed-over friends.  This is the substance of things hoped for in my heart.  This is what faith looks like...

Guest Posting On Bangor Daily's "Get Ginafied"! (Come on over...)

It's not everyday that manicures and missions collide.  I'm really excited to be guest posting today at Get Ginafied, and I'd love to have you follow me over there to hear what all the fuss is about....

(Just for fun, here's a photo of me and Gina from the days when we both were blondies!)

"to give you HOPE and a future...."

This is how it all starts for me.  I'm watching this clip, shared by a friend on Facebook, and I am ashamed at what I do not know.  Every misconception that exists about HIV, I am guilty of assuming true.  And it's humbling, this heart for the orphan that has missed out entirely on such a large group of orphans to love, simply out of ignorance.  But this family hits my heart at its center, and the truth that requires bravery and releases hope is powerful.

Over a course of months, I read lots about Project HOPEFUL, and I often sit and wipe tears from my face as I scan the faces of children who need a mom and dad... children who need to know the Father who is their Defender and the One who hears their cry.  The Father who has promised to them, "'I know the plans I have for you,' says the LORD, 'plans for good and not for evil, to give you hope and a future.'" Jeremiah 29:11. I think of my Savior, his heart for "the least of these," and it's hard for me to sit in my house in America with my healthy children and my kitchen filled with food and the goodnight stories read in the rocking chair and not wonder, "who could this world possibly consider as less than the orphan living with HIV?"  And there are so many we call "least."  

The list of who we consider to be least grows.  It includes these little ones living with HIV, who we don't stop to consider, because we are afraid and don't know the hope that exists.  And it includes the foster children in our country whose hearts are wounded.  It includes little babies in America born with skin too dark for some waiting parents to bring them home.  It includes children who have nothing left on this earth but the brothers and sisters they have come to depend on for every sense of safety, but they are too many in number, so we break them up so it is easier on us.  And it includes boys like my Sasha, young men with promise and humor and dreams, who age-out of care and yet still are at ages where care and support and structure is needed.  

I am thankful for a Lord who shows us how to love "the least of these," and who reminds us that how we treat them is, in fact, how we are treating him.  He says, "And whoever welcomes a little child in my name welcomes me." Matthew 18:5. 

After learning a lot about Project HOPEFUL and having spent the past year and a half praying about where exactly the Lord would use me to serve in orphan care, I'm very excited to now be the Maine Associate for Project HOPEFUL.  This week I'll be learning more in a training about the variety of ways I'll be able to serve families in our own state, and I have been blessed with a very unexpected and absolutely amazing opportunity to link our trip to Ukraine to the ministry of Project HOPEFUL!

Friday morning, I enjoy a long and wonderful phone call to Traci Heim, who is Project HOPEFUL's Ukraine contact and the FIG Director (Family In the Gap Program, which helps in a variety of ways to link families here with kids in other countries who need support and love and prayer and family).  As we chase busy toddlers thoughout our homes (I automatically feel a friend-connection with anyone who understands that it's ok for me to give my 2-year old several popsicles in a row in order to manage a full phone call...), we have a two-hour conversation about Ukraine and the kids there who we love so much. This is a great news clip about her family:

Our mission in Ukraine has at its center a boy who is our son according to our hearts.  You all know our Sasha.  He is part of our family, and his photos are on our wall in our family gallery, all around my computer desk.  Our kids consider him family, and I have grieved his absense from our home tremendously over the past year, although I know God's story is not finished.  So we are thrilled to see him in only a few weeks!

As I talk to Traci, she shares a need she sees.  She tells me that Project HOPEFUL seeks to help older children and sibling groups as well as children living with HIV. We both know that in Ukraine, orphans age-out of orphanages at 16, and most often they are left on their own.  She has a vision that Project HOPEFUL can come alongside organizations who would care for these kids, offering support and linking families in the States with teens who need to know the love of family and of Christ and to be safe.  I tell her about Sunshine, about Sasha having someone to go to his trade school parent nights and about his letters sharing that he is learning to manage his time and money, and I tell her that I am so thankful he is safe and loved and provided for as he transitions to aduldhoood.

We are now adding a new element to our trip, as we connect our mission with that of Project HOPEFUL. Specifically, we are exploring the "how's" of linking up support to kids in Ukraine who need to be safe and loved and guided through learning a trade and being ready to transition to adulthood safely and successfully.  I watch as God is weaving together a relationship between our countries based on loving the orphan, and I see that even in what I thought was a closed door, God's faithfulness is opening a door of opportunity to serve Him alongside a team of people scattered across different countries but joined by His heart for "the least of these" and faith in the One who gives "hope and a future."

We've added a Donate button at the top right of our blog page, which will allow you to donate specifically to this mission in a tax deductible way through Project HOPEFUL, should you be led to do so.

{I'd like to say thank you to Project HOPEFUL for being used to share and expand the vision we have of orphan care in Ukraine!  It's been a desire of my heart to see more kids have the blessings of family and safety that Sasha has received, and I'm honored to be part of a team of people seeking to come alongside those in orphan care ministry overseas.}

{I'd like to also say thank you to Kathi Lipp for writing The Me Project: 21 Days to Living the Life You've Always Wanted and for your friendship - your words have been an encouragement to me to make steps in the direction of the dreams God has given me.}

Signed, "Your Sasha"

June already feels like it's flying by.  I can't believe that in just a handful of weeks, we'll be boarding a plane and heading to Kiev, Ukraine!  Neither Selden nor I love flying, so please be praying that I won't hyperventilate while flying over the ocean.  

This morning, I want to express my thanks.  When I have needed help, friends have shown up, unexpectedly, to lighten my load.  When we've shared our story of Sasha coming into our lives (and I've tried not to cry while talking about seeing him finally get to have that highly anticipated fishing day with my husband - even if it's halfway around the world), I've seen smiles spread across faces, and I know that the Lord's moving hearts for this boy and his friends at Sunshine. I remember daily that this is the Lord's work, not mine, and He will do this.

Some area churches have expressed interest in sharing the ministry of Sunshine and our heart for Sasha and the kids who, like him, call Sunshine their home.  Please pray for these opportunities with us.  It's exciting to see God take the seeds of a small "yes" spoken by a couple of ordinary parents in a small New England town and grow them into more ministry opportunities, more ways to spread the Gospel and the heart of Christ. We know all we have offer to our Father is small, but we have a Lord who can take a few loaves and fishes and feed thousands.  It's the willingness to give what we can that God wants to see in our lives.  Sometimes, knowing that what we have is less than what is needed to accomplish something has kept me from the "yes," but not any more.  

I'd like to take this moment to let you all know that, as you have come alongside us in prayer, in giving of time and encouragement and even sharing with us financially, this mission is already bearing fruit, and we haven't even packed our bags.  We're very excited to spend time with all the children and to do some special things to bless them in the name of Jesus while we're in Ukraine.  This is a heart mission.  A sharing God's love in tangible ways mission.  An entering-your-world-because-you-are-worth-the-effort mission.  All of these children are worth the time and effort of getting to know personally, and the staff who minister to them daily are people I am honored to have the privelage of calling friends and getting to meet!

We got a sweet letter from Sasha late last week.  He is excited for our visit.  His heart sounds hopeful and full of anticipation, and he's already coming up with a list of places in Ukraine he wants to take us, and we can't wait!  God loves this boy, this young man who puts tears in my eyes every time a new photo of him comes up in my email.  Every time I see his letters, signed "Your Sasha," my heart whispers a tearful "thank you, Jesus" to the Father of the fatherless, to the One who takes regular people like us and  helps us be family to a child we've yet to meet but recognized as "one of our kids" the first time we laid eyes on him.