I am feeling great still- thank you God, really, I know it's not a given. I'm 23 weeks and I feel so close to this little one inside my belly. I call him by name now, hopefully we will share soon. I pray for him often and I just have such a strong desire to keep him safe in there, to keep him growing big & strong, and to tell him lots of little things about his dad (who travels all the time).
I still have energy to get up early and workout so I do, 5 days a week at about 6:30am. Here is my #3 workout (written when I was 13 weeks) but one I still do today. I basically rotate through these workouts and add a new one each week of my pregnancy to change it up and keep my muscles conditioned. I do 3 days of strength training a week and 2 cardio only days.
This past weekend J was home and we had a fun day enjoying fall things, although the weather here is not quiet "fall feeling" at 80+ degrees. I ate way too many candy apples and eating them (for the record) is only half as fun as making them. And here is also my 22 week progress pic- sweet little babe is growing and I LOVE IT!
It's easy for me to follow my post title with a million exclamations because, it's not my BIG birthday. It's my lovely sisters! And she will be so thrilled to see this post ;) She's turning the big THIRTY and I have no doubt it will be her best year yet! (she's the stunning blonde next to me in all three photos)
These are pics from us two weekends ago at the Zac Brown Festival in Charleston.
I've been feeling great in my pregnancy so far. 22 weeks! More than half way done cooking this little babe. My husband, adoringly referred to as J, came back in town for the weekend. He's been traveling a lot for work and as much as I love having a king size bed to myself & preggo belly, it gets old quick. He got to feel the baby move around for the first time- simply amazing. It really is the BEST feeling!
I made an amazing pumpkin chocolate chip zucchini bread recently and it was TO DIE FOR! And incredibly healthy. Although J calls it "turd bread" due to it's lovely appearance, even he enjoyed it. So when you're craving a huge slice of Starbucks breakfast bread, make this instead and save yourself over 250 calories! Here's the recipe comparison, I'll be posting these for my own record as I search for healthy alternatives to my not so healthy cravings. :)
Recipe from http://www.ambitiouskitchen.com
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
pinch of nutmeg
pinch of cloves
pinch of ginger
3/4 cup canned pumpkin
1 cup shredded zucchini, squeezed of excess moisture
1/3 cup honey
1 tablespoon coconut oil
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup almond milk
1/2 cup chocolate chips
Instructions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 9 inch loaf pan with nonstick cooking spray.
In a large bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger.
In
a separate large bowl combine pumpkin, zucchini, honey, oil, egg, and
vanilla until well combined and smooth. Whisk in almond milk. Add wet
ingredients to dry ingredients and mix until just combined. Gently fold
in chocolate chips, reserving a few for sprinkling on top. Bake for
50-60 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean. Cool on wire rack for
10-15 minutes, then remove bread from pan and transfer to wire rack to
finish cooling.
I'm pretty sure that upon your arrival I will no longer have the energy to keep up this blog, OR perhaps it will be just the thing that keeps me sane and feeling somewhat normal amidst the "newborn fog", which by the way someone at the pool told me she had just come out of after 5 months --- 5 MONTHS!! I was thinking more like a 6 week fog. I must consult my sister on this. She is a mom of three boys and just a few short months ago they were all 3yrs and under. Isn't that crazy?! Crazy, but fun! If anyone should write a blog it should be her, but as you might imagine she has her hands quiet full.
Anyway, sweet boy, you don't care about all that. You want to hear the good things. Things like you looked perfect and beautiful in your 20 week ultrasound. You weigh 12oz. I have no idea how they know that, but the doctors told me you did. You move ALL the time. I began to feel your little movements around 17 weeks, from the outside. Before that, I'm sure you were in there moving but for all I knew it was gas bubbles or my stomach upset at what I had for dinner. I am attempting to teach you french, and by you I mean me (too). I feel like I need to be more dedicated if I say I am teaching my son. We plan to take you to France shortly after you're born, you will love it just like your dad and I do.
And for those of you that came for the workout, voilà, see below! This workout is a back & arm focused workout, for those of you that don't know me well, I truly believe in weight/resistance training for woman. Building lean muscle helps to increase our resting metabolism, so we will burn more fat throughout the day. And during pregnancy, it has even more benefits, such as increasing our stamina during labor, increased energy during pregnancy, decreased back and leg cramping during pregnancy and quicker recovery post pregnancy (umm hello, that last one alone is worth it). Muscles that are constantly used tend to heal faster because of
increased blood circulation and better cellular response to trauma/the breaking and building of muscle.
*As always, run your workout plan by your OB before attempting.
Let's be real here. When I unexpectedly found out I was pregnant, many, many thoughts went through my mind. I was scared and unhappy about all the changes that lie ahead. One of the biggest things I wasn't ready for was for my body to change.... hello cravings, lack-of-energy, weight gain, scaled down workouts, etc.
BUT I adapted. I realized that in order to keep myself sane and this little babe safe, I needed to continue to keep fitness a priority in my life. Since then, I have continued to workout like normal, I have made a few adjustments here and there. And I openly discuss my fitness routine with my OB. It makes me feel better when she says I'm good to go. Before creating my fitness plan (and each workout), I did tons of research and talked with the trainers at my gym about what exercises to avoid, heart rate concerns, trimester variations, etc.
I want to preface by saying that I worked out 5 days a week for 60-90 minutes a day before getting pregnant. I wouldn't recommended starting a new workout routine once you're pregnant, and be sure to run everything by your OB first.
If you have any questions, feel free to email me. I'm no expert, but can definitely help motivate (or ask my husband). :)
Also, I'm 21 weeks this week... here's a progress pic- it's a shameless gym selfie.
You must not know me well enough if you don't understand why I followed
my title with crazy, but don't worry, I promise to share details at some point, and then we'll be SUPER close.
On Friday, June 27th, 2014, I found out I was pregnant. A friend at the gym actually prompted me to get a pregnancy test when she flat out asked, "Your boobs are huge, are you pregnant?". I almost dropped the barbell right in the middle of a squat. Me..haha...pregnant? I had all the signs, I have no idea why I didn't think of it as a possible option myself.
Fast-forward to today, and I'm 20 weeks pregnant with a precious baby boy. I want to be careful when I say this, because I have friends & family who have struggled to conceive and I don't want to seem insensitive, but I also want to be honest. I did not come to the point of calling this child "precious" overnight. I had a hard time adjusting to being pregnant, and it wasn't the morning sickness, the weight gain or the mood swings....it was me selfishly, just not ready to be pregnant. I wasn't ready to give up sushi, wine, insane workouts, sleeping on my back, or licking yummy cake batter off a spoon. I realize now how silly this all sounds, but it's the truth. Even at my first ultrasound, seeing my little blob of a baby did not make me weep tears of joy or make my heart flutter. I realized seeing that little blob that I actually was pregnant and that this road, whether I was ready or not, was one I was going down.
So you get the point, I had a lot of attitude adjusting to do. And I did. And finally, at my 15 week OB appointment, I had an unplanned ultrasound and I got to see my sweet baby (who actually looked like a baby) move and he looked right into the monitor and waved. It was a huge moment for me. I cried. I realized for the first time that the wiggling baby inside me was mine. He is my child, Justin and I's creation and I am his mother, now and forever. I could not be more honored and blessed.
Original Post from Nov. 2013>
As much as Justin and I love being here, there and everywhere, we
really do want to settle down and buy our dream home. I call it that,
our dream home, and I call it that not because it will be a big,
extravagant, high-end home, but because it will be the house we’ve
dreamed of….sounds of little giggles, whispered lullabies, post-tantrum
sniffles, loud football game cheers, family laughter, early morning
baking, dogs barking and so many more beautiful family sounds. That’s
the house we dream of; one where we can raise our family.
For those of you that know me, I should start off by saying… I am not pregnant!! Scouts honor. Just had to clear that right up.
As we think about the house we want, I’ve come up with this list of
wants (some of these things are more or less just words/ideas to keep me
in-check when looking):
-More than one bathroom : )
-Outdoor living space
-Porch
-Cottage charm
-Not too big (Note to self: you’ll have to clean it)
-Outdoorsy
-Walking distance to anything (seriously, I don’t care what it is, I know this will keep me sane when mommy-life gets crazy)
-No carpet (this is totally selfish, but I want things that clean up easily, like really, really easily)
The two hard decisions for me (and Justin), which are unfortunately
the most important things, are where to live and exactly how many
bedrooms we think we’ll need. And let me tell you folks, without those
two decisions made, looking for a home right now is like driving without
directions….aimless and pretty pointless.
Original post from Oct. 16, 2013> Where do you go after a trip like this? How do you return to “normal
life”? How does everything you once knew not turn into a meaningless
humdrum life?
Processing. That’s how. At least for me, it’s what I needed. I had to
take the time to contemplate and think about this trip. There was a
purpose in me being called over there….a purpose bigger than my mind
could see while I was in Uganda, being washed in the daily presence of
those precious little children. Justin and I spent last weekend camping
and hiking 18 miles through the Foothills Trail. We decided we would go
on this trip, despite all of our recent travels, because we wanted to
process our trip to Uganda and we couldn’t think of a better place than
in nature, with no cell service and no distractions (aren’t those one in
the same?). : )
The trip was perfect. A time for my mind to clear out the clutter. I
realized that when you come back from a trip that takes you into another
world, especially a world of poverty, that in some ways, your life back
home does seem meaningless. And in some ways, you might never fully
return home. You leave a piece of you behind and bring home a new one.
But it’s a choice you have. You can choose to take it all in, live it,
breathe it and let in change your heart forever….or you can choose to
let it slip away, like a distant memory (and back in the comfort of our
big American homes, fancy cars, nice restaurants and super malls- that’s
a easy thing to do). And while I am guilty of enjoying the comforts of
my American life, I am choosing to let this trip change me. Forever. As I
discover the changes my heart has made, I’ll keep you posted. But for
now, through processing, I realized I learned one big lesson….
Before leaving for Africa, I made a commitment to myself (because I
felt like God called me to) to live in the moment. A friend of mine,
Charisse, sent me a good devotional which led me to this
calling of “living in the moment”. As we all know, it is quite a feat
to do. We live in America, even worse in a city, where there is a
constant hustle and bustle, where people (myself included) feel the need
to be someone, climb up the ladder, be socially accepted, and all of us
in some way feel like we have to keep up with the Joneses to
survive…how, please tell me, can we ever feel or be in the moment if
we’re constantly doing all of the above? If we’re all, in some way,
striving for more, then how are we ever in the moment, appreciating
fully what is right in front of us? I can tell you that I, honestly, was
not succeeding at this…my heart, my mind and my wallet too often
searched for “more”.
THEN Africa happened. I went with this once seemingly big task to
change, and I did. So easily. And that’s because I had no pressures
there, I had nothing more to search for, and no expectations to meet. In
Africa, I was a pharmacist, a foreigner, a full-time servant of God,
and a mom. And every time my sweet boys looked up at me with their big hopeful eyes, I was in the moment.
I didn’t have to think to myself, “Allie, concentrate on what’s right
in front of you.” It came effortlessly. I want to give you one example
here, we were riding on a bus to Namadhi (the campus that is more rural,
where two of my boys live). The children were so excited to see us, and
it didn’t feel right… who are we to deserve this? But I reminded
myself, that for many of these children, we are a big bundle of love
coming to adore them and serve them. For them, it might be like God
sending them a piece of his love made visible. A special present, just
for them. How could you not be fully present in this moment?
These 60 seconds are seconds I will never forget. How my heart
felt…seeing the signs they made, their loud wel-e-come cheers, the
branches they turned into waving flags, the flowers the picked to
decorate for us, their little bobbing heads as they jumped for joy, the
bouquets they gave us made of twigs and fresh blooms. This is one of the
moments that helped me to learn to always be present. I
don’t want to miss the big moments or the tiny, little moments in my
life. It’s been incredibly hard for me to maintain back home…but I take
one day at a time and I don’t beat myself up when I get off track. I’ve
learned to not over-commit myself, to enjoy each place I go, to find
peace in my days at the house when work is slow, to show my husband he
is loved even when I’m busy, to not be perpetually rushed, to be ok with
being late or early, to sit on the porch and read when I think I should
be cleaning. I’ve learned to pass up things I want at the store, to not
stress about planning out my life and just let it happen, to love
myself with messy hair and no makeup, to cherish time with my family
even when work is knocking at the door. I’ve learned that everything in
my life has a place, but I can’t be in all those places at once. So I
choose to be in whatever place my life has called me to at any given
moment. I am there, present. I set aside the other things. And I don’t
let my mind think about them. They are not going anywhere, they are
merely waiting in line. And when my life takes me to those other things,
they will appreciate me being fully present. Living in the moment,
truly.
Lessons from Uganda...
Original post from Oct. 1, 2013>
Emotions, emotions, emotions. Right now, I am full of a million, but sadness is the one I feel the most.
I am sad because I miss Shafic more than I even thought possible. I
see him in everything I do here. I miss our other boys too, but both
Sula & Muzaifah have brothers and sisters at the orphanage, which
somehow makes me feel better. Like they have family to love them and
comfort them when needed. I will have to tell you more about them
later…Justin and I had a very special moment with Muzaifah.
From the moment I met Shafic we had a very special bond. He didn’t
want to talk too much about his past when I first met him, perhaps he
didn’t trust me quite yet, but after two days of getting to know
eachother, Shafic opened up to me. He told me about his past and where
he came from and how he ended up at Hands of Love.
Both of Shafic’s parents died when he was 5 years old. I’m not sure how
they died, I didn’t feel like he was ready to tell me, so I didn’t ask.
Some villagers helped to take care of him and his brother, Martin, for a
few years until it became too burdensome. They didn’t have any money so
Shafic and Martin relied on others to feed them. They also couldn’t go
to school because in Uganda the public school system requires every
student to pay some small admin fees (unless the school is a UPE
school), but when you don’t have anything but the clothes on your back
(literally) those small fees prevent you from going to school. That and
the fact they didn’t have any transportation besides traveling by foot.
Shafic explained to me that one day Solomy, the sponsorship coordinator
in Uganda, found him and his brother in a field and took them to Hands
of Love. Shafic was 10 years old when that happened. I am not sure about
Martin, but I know Shafic was sponsorless for 3 years. Justin and I
began to sponsor him in March of 2012. A some point during those three
years, Martin ran away from the orphanage and got involved with a bad
group of people, a Ugandan gang of sorts. Martin is not allowed near the
orphanage, so the day he ran away was the last time Shafic saw him. I
asked Shafic if he missed his brother, and he said he does very much,
but that he is very happy at Hands of Love and doesn’t want to leave.
This whole story about Shafic’s brother running away made me worry (just
like a mother). I worried that Shafic’s brother might influence him.
That maybe Shafic would one day feel like running away thinking that
there might be something better out there. Justin and I talked and
together we decided to have a serious talk with Shafic. It was hard for
me to be stern with him, but I knew I had to be. I explained to him how
much his dad and I loved him, and that if he ever ran away or left Hands
of Love that we would be deeply sad and worried. In fact, I told him,
we would be so worried that we would come right back over to Uganda and
search for him until we found him…and we would find him. And
when we did, he would be in BIG trouble with us. I explained to him that
it was with a loving, motherly heart that I told him all this. The
thought of him running away and maybe never seeing him again brings me a
deep pain in my heart. Shafic reassured me that he would never runaway.
He said, now that he met his mom and dad, he wanted to make us proud.
He has no idea how proud I am already. He is the sweetest boy, he has a
big heart, he is selfless, and he loves the Lord. He is always looking
out for the younger kids. Molly, one of the nurses on our trip, has a
precious son at HOL named Julius. I constantly saw Shafic sharing his
treats with Julius and guiding him to the bus, back to school, etc.
There are so many reasons I am proud of my son.
It was so hard to tell Shafic goodbye. I cried and cried. I let the
whole “be strong in front of your kids rule” fly right out the window. I
didn’t care. I hugged him and held him so tight. I reminded
him that this was not goodbye forever and that I would return to see
him. I reminded him for the 5 millionth time how much Justin and I loved
him, and he reminded me that he loved us so much too. As he was
summoned back to the bus, Shafic looked at me and said “I will miss you,
Mom.” “I will miss you more,” I replied. And we both turned to walk in
opposite directions.
This song randomly played on my iPod on my way back to the US…. each word is exactly how I feel.
I carry you in me.
Now that I have seen, I am responsible
Faith without deeds is dead
Now that I have held you
In my own arms
I cannot let go till you are
I will tell the world, I will tell them where I’ve been
I will keep my word.
Now being back in America, I feel a deep rooted responsibility in my
heart, a responsibility to take care of Shafic forever, to tell his
story, and to hopefully, one day, help him go to college and follow all
his dreams. I realize that right now that begins with helping him right
where he is…at Hands of Love. I want to educate people, like you, about
HOL. And if I’m honest, I want HOL to get more funding and more
sponsors. It only costs $40 a month to sponsor a child.
If you go to Starbucks a few times a month, go out to lunch more than 4
times a month, or pick up an extra item every time you go to Target
(come on, we’ve all done it), then you have enough “extra” to help a
child. I know many of you donate your money elsewhere and I get that (I
did too before I knew of HOL), but I hope this touches your heart in
such a way that you feel called to sponsor a child….that you make room for it, because if we’re all truly honest, we could all make the room to do this. And when you do, you will be blessed, immensely.
Original post from Sept. 30, 2013>
Dear my sweet, sweet Mommy,
I pray you are near and are able to see what the good Lord has called me
to do, for you have inspired me to follow His lead. Never in a million
years would I have thought serving children would be in my future, but
when I think of you and how much of your life was made up of loving
children, I realize it is perfectly sensible. You were an incredibly
gifted teacher, the best mom your daughters could ask for, and you loved
two boys that came into our life later as if they were your very own.
You took every chance in life to love and embrace children. I remember
you were once completely taken back by a story about 3 orphan brothers
in the newspaper, you seriously discussed with the family adopting all
of them, I think you even called the local government to see how
everything might logistically work. I smile at that memory now…. It’s
truly no surprise that I am here in Africa serving and adoring all these
beautiful young faces with their big ear to ear smiles.
I hope you hear my message though you are in an unreachable and
seemingly far away place. I want you to know, among the millions of
things I learned from you, one of the most valuable was learning to have
an open heart to love others, and today those “others” are the little
ones. I am following in your footsteps with a big open heart (just like
you taught me), and I can’t help but fall in love with all of these
children. Their little feet and tiny toes, their big belly laughs, and
imaginations that have no limit, their innocent souls, and their joy for
all the little things in life.
I thank you for inspiring me for I am forever grateful for this trip. It
will change the trajectory of my life, in fact it already has.
I also need to thank your beautiful mom, my Nanny! Her lifelong heart
and dedication to serve others is truly incredible. When I was younger I
didn’t quite grasp the volunteer work she did for the RedCross, but now
that I am older I am able to truly appreciate the work she did, the
time she gave, the people she helped and most importantly those she
inspired along the way, like me. Thank you, Nanny, for your heart to
serve…and also thank you for raising an amazing daughter who became the
best mother.
I have a grateful heart today for these two special women in my life
who touched my heart and helped lead me to where I am today, on this
life-changing African journey.
Original post from Sept. 22, 2013>
I could sit here and write about how I felt first walking into
clinic, how my day was working as a pharmacist, or how no one understood
when I called out their names with my American accent…but it doesn’t
seem important in comparison to telling you things about Shafic. He is
truly a spark of light in each day, his smile is precious and sweet, and
he each word he speaks feels like it is straight from his heart, pure
and true. Shafic is 14, almost 15, he is a big boy (taller than me) and
he has been at Hands of Love for at least 3 years.
I want to go back for a moment to the “son” story (I briefly
mentioned this on my last post). Justin and I have always written to
Shafic and our two other boys (at the Namadhi location) and addressed
them each as “son”. It always felt right and seemed like a good thing to
do, like God put it on our hearts to do. On Thursday, after lunch, the
children did a performance for us. They sang a beautiful song about how
the orphans cry and about how hungry they once were and how scared they
once were…..during this part the children were very emotional (as were
we), some of the children even had tears in their eyes….it just
completely broke my heart. BUT then the song changed, it got more upbeat
and lively, and they began to sing about how God brought them to Hands
of Love and how happy they are because they now have parents, they are
loved by their parents, and have protection because of their
moms and dads. In this very moment of the song, I broke down, I tried to
keep from crying but I couldn’t. I realized for the first time that
Justin and I, no matter how many miles away we live, are Shafic’s
parents. We are all the family he knows and has left here in this world.
We are his parents now, and Shafic, he is our son.
Today, Sunday, in church we were to turn to the person next to us and
say “I am blessed because I am here”, and when I turned to tell Shafic
he said with no hesitation in his voice, “I am blessed because you are
here, Mom”. I felt like the luckiest person in the world…..I am so proud to be his mom.
I am truly blessed by Shafic. He is my son now and forever. I don’t
know what the far future holds for him….I don’t know if he will stay
here the rest of his life or maybe one day make his way to America….but I
do know I love him so. Meeting him has been the second best moment of
my life. When I tell him I love him, I mean it with all my being. And
when he says back to me “I love you, mom”, there is nothing sweeter. It
will be so hard to tell him bye, until next time (because it will not
be bye forever). I am trying not to think about that moment.
I find comfort though each night as I pray….I am so incredibly grateful
to our great God; that he proclaims in His word to be the Father of all
orphans, that He loves them so, that His heart breaks when theirs does,
and that He protects them, and mostly I am thankful that He has so
blessed Justin & I with these sons.
God thank you for being Shafic’s almighty Father,
thank you for protecting him when we did not even know his name.
Thank you for loving him, always.
Thank you for blessing Justin and I with the opportunity to come on this trip.
Thank you for blessing us with a son.
Thank you for blessing us with Shafic’s sweet presence.
You are a great God.
Your plan is perfect. And I rest with that peace and promise each night.
Thank you.
Shafic is on the left of this first photo, in the light blue shirt (matching his Dad). :)
I also have a lot of photos with Derrick (the small one in green) he is
Whitney, my sister’s Ugandan son. Wayyyy more to tell you later.
Original post from Sept. 19, 2013>
Where do you begin to describe a day like today? A day so touching
and moving that you don’t feel like your words will do it justice? What I
wish is you that each of you reading this could have been my eyes and
ears for just a moment of time today. It would change your life and your
heart forever.
We first drove into the orphanage around noon, the children were all
standing together at the gates chanting “Wel-e-come”, which is welcome,
they just break up the word very distinctly while enunciating. They had
signs for each volunteer that said “Dear, Justin/Allie/etc. we love
you!” There were chants and screams and HUGE hugs and high fives. All
the children, and I mean all of them, greeted us with hugs and
proper hand shakes. I fought (incredibly hard) to hold back my tears, of
course they were tears of pure, deep joy, but I didn’t want to startle
or worry the children. They were so unbelievably happy to see us, and I
felt the same way. It was a special bond we all shared immediately.
We went into a classroom and within minutes I spotted our boy,
Shafic. My heart literally stopped….I breathed a deep breath….and as I
walked over to him, I felt immense happiness. A happiness I really can’t
describe. I totally forgot to introduce myself, which would have been
proper. Instead I threw my arms around him and held him so tight. I
wanted him to know I was I there for him, not just in that moment, but
always. Shafic immediately loved Justin. Shafic looked up to him and
smiled so big, it reached both his eyes, he was almost squinting, and in
that moment I could tell he felt like he had a real, tangible man to
look up to, to play with, and to hug on! I must have told Shafic a
million times how much we loved him, I never want him to forget. At one
point, after reading a letter Justin and I wrote him, he looked at his
hands, fumbled with them for a second and then clearly he said “I love
you both.” One single tear escaped my eye and I looked right to Justin
who’s eyes has already filled with many tears. Pure, true, deep joy. God
is so, so good.
Here we were in Africa, a million miles away from everything we ever
known..and we fell in love with this sweet, sweet boy. Shafic gives me
hope and happiness and he brings a smile to my face each time a thought
of him crosses my mind. He is our son, maybe he lives in Uganda and
maybe he looks different and speaks a different language, but he is our
son. (I will write a whole post in this “son” moment later).
Our day kept us busy, we toured the school and the living quarters
and we met the amazing house moms that care for the orphans…most of them
have 30+ children to care for (and one of them had forty 3 & 4 year
olds. Wow. I felt a deep need to look them each in the eye and thank
them, I wasn’t sure where our boy, Shafic, stayed at this point (our
other boys are at a more rural orphanage), but I knew they each had
someone’s boy or girl and they kept them safe, cared for them when ill,
read them stories at night, sang them songs and most of all loved them.
For Shafic and for all the other children, I am forever grateful to
those house moms and the incredible work they do.
I have so much more to tell you, but for now know this….God is
amazing, He has protected and cared for these children when their
parents could not…and He brought them all to Hands of Love. And that’s
truly what the organization is, they are the true hands of love. Love is
all you see there. (This is posted from my iPhone so pls ignore all errors)
Original post from Sept. 16, 2013>
Yes, that’s right. Tomorrow. As in less than 24 hours from now, J and
I will be sitting at an airport waiting to board the plane to embark on
this crazy, beautiful journey.
I say crazy because, well, I never
imagined that I would be doing anything of this sort. Partly because I
wasn’t sure that I would ever be “up” for a mission trip, partly because
I didn’t think it would all pan out when my friend and I started
talking about it, and mostly because I spent years feeling so awkward
and useless around kids that I never imagined I would go half way around
the world to serve and play with them….but God has a funny way of doing
things, so here I am.
I’ve spent the past three years, since I welcomed my very first
nephew into this world, learning how best to love kids and honestly,
just learning to be myself around them. I think my mother-bear,
nurturing instincts were buried inside me all along, I just needed a
reason to find them. And my sweet nephew was that reason….then came more
nephews, and the amazing kids & volunteers at My Sister’s House,
and then sponsoring our three boys at Hands of Love….AND NOW UGANDA.
“All your children will be taught by the Lord, and great will be their peace.” Isaiah 54:13
Fast forward to today….and I absolutely adore kids, I love
playing with them, making them giggle, teaching them, learning with
them, being the fun person in the playground, being the disciplinary
(because they need it and it only means I love them that much more),
building forts with them, making up games to play, dancing with them to
random music, and watching them fall asleep in my arms. I’ve fallen in
love with kids. God truly has worked in this heart of mine for so long. I
feel like my love for kids is similar to how God loves me,
unconditionally and beyond any circumstances (1 John 4:19). One day, I
hope to have my own kids and I also hope to adopt a few, hopefully from
Uganda. : )More on that some other time.
All that to say, I am so ready to go to Uganda and fall more in love with these children. Expect nothing less.
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and
faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress
and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. -James 1:27
Original post from Sept. 11, 2013>
Almost two years ago, a very dear friend of mine was telling me this
incredible story about a man she met at the hospital (she’s a Physician
Assistant). This man, Jeff, told her an amazing story about how he was
going to adopt a boy from a Ugandan Orphanage. He had heard about the
orphanage through friends & family and felt called to action, so he
sponsored a few kids there. Eventually the calling felt stronger and
Jeff & his wife knew they wanted and needed to adopted a child from
the orphanage….so they left their biological children here in the US and
went to Africa to find their soon-to-be adopted child. No doubt this
was a hard process, how could they ever pick just one lucky child. Well,
something truly divine happened on their trip….when Jeff was touring
the living quarters, he saw a pair of shoes and said “Oh, my son has
those.” (speaking about his son here in the US). The orphanage pastor
looked the man straight in the eye and said, “Yes, he does.” That very
boy, who had those shoes at the orphanage, is now their son.
When my friend told me this story I had goosebumps….what an
incredible story! That story stayed on my heart, so later I asked my
friend for details on the orphanage, but she couldn’t remember. I
thought it was lost forever, but as fate would have it….Justin and I
went to meet friends (Mark & Debbie) for a concert just a few weeks
later and our friends began telling us about how they had just sponsored
a few kids at this incredible Ugandan orphanage, Hands of Love. I knew
it was the same orphanage as they began to tell the adoption story, my
heart leaped and just a few short weeks later Justin and I began to
sponsor three beautiful boys. Meet Sula, Muzaifah and Shafic (photos
below). Precious, aren’t they? Over the past two years, we have written
each other letters, sent photos back and forth, and even, on some
occasions, sent gifts. I cannot tell you how much our lives have been
blessed by these boys. And not just by them, but also this unbelievable
orphanage and the people that work so hard to make a difference. This
orphanage sees Uganda with a bright future. They see these children with
a successful road ahead of them. They see light in a place of deep
darkness. A place where human sacrifice, violence towards women, and
cannibalism still exists today. It takes my breath away, literally,
every time I think about these children getting so much love in a place
that has such darkness.
My “dear friend” (from the beginning of the story) went to serve the
orphanage in August of 2012. As a PA she had a lot of offer. Her and a
group of nurses and doctors set-up a clinic to serve the women and
children of Uganda. She met our three boys and her kids too…..she was so
deeply touched by her experience. It truly changed her heart forever.
So that’s why we chose Uganda and the Hands of Love orphanages, because
God put this in front of us….He set our hearts on fire for these
beautiful Ugandan children and He will change us forever with this one
incredibly journey.
Follow us, as we go. I can’t promise to write everyday, but I will write as often as I can.
This past weekend J was home and we had a fun day enjoying fall things, although the weather here is not quiet "fall feeling" at 80+ degrees. I ate way too many candy apples and eating them (for the record) is only half as fun as making them. And here is also my 22 week progress pic- sweet little babe is growing and I LOVE IT!
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