Stigma. Judgment. Inferiority. Branding. Segregation. Fear.

When we read ‘The Scarlet Letter’ in high school my first thoughts centered around the explicit nature of the book. Why were we required to read this? This book full of controversy and sin. At the same time why were we required to keep the bible and the belief therein hush, hush. Was it not also a book full of controversy and sin?

All critical analysis of the hypocrisy in the public school system aside I am glad I read the book. I am glad they made me do it.

The human tendency to act upon fears fascinates me. One who ostracizes or even punishes another person due to perceived differences sees oneself as just and right. ‘The Scarlet Letter’ illustrated this fact of life in a concrete way for me for the first time in my life.

For those of you who haven’t read this little book I’ll tell you a bit. Hester gives birth to a daughter borne from an adulterous relationship. 17th century Bostonian practiced mandated that such woman wear a scarlet letter A sown to the chest of their garments. The book, by the great Nathaniel Hawthorne, looks at the struggles of assimilating to life lived under the scrutiny of public condemnation.

That awful A. That detestable A. That fearful A.

This evening as I prepared my children, all five of them, for tomorrow, the first day of the 2012 school year, I think of that A. The stigma and judgement associated with adoption here in Bolivia quite often turns my stomach, much like the feelings I had as I read that book so many years ago.

I feel like I am sending Kaitlynn to school with a proverbial big letter A stitched to her cute little school shirt.

Even this morning at church I had a little conversation that had me biting my tongue even though I wanted to shout.

[names have been changed]

Me: Hello Valerie

Valerie: Hello. I want you to meet my friend, Stephanie.

(Niceties between Stephanie and myself, including a kiss on the cheek)

Valerie: (gesturing to Tyler) And this is her youngest son.

(Stephanie smiles at him)

Valerie: (gesturing to Kaitlynn) And this is her daughter.

Stephanie: (odd look on her face) She looks very different from the others.

Valerie: It’s because… (pause. quick, nervous glance at me.) …she is (in a lower voice) …adopted.

(niceties exchanged as I make a quick exit.)

Why did it even have to be said? Why was an ‘explanation’ necessary? In seeing the ‘differences’ why did a comment have to be made?

Not the first time such an exchange has taken place, nor will it be the last. And with school starting I fear for my daughter. She is only four. People say stupid things all the time.

“Who are her real parents?” “Your kids have curly hair and yours is straight. Why?” “What’s it like being married to a… [searching for a politically correct term]“ To name a few.

Then I go into analytical overdrive. Who’s judging who? I am judging the judgmental ones! I am pegging them with a fretful A and acting upon my own fears.

Kaitlynn is good, and sweet, and kind, and cute, and pleasant, and obedient, and smart. Why do I worry? My others have lived through the curious looks and uncomfortable questions. Skin color, nationality, parent’s profession, morals, religious stance, and income bracket, just to name a few of the oddities singling out the Washington family. When the unthinking comments come we will deal with it.

I am so grateful that we chose to keep Kaitlynn’s full background story a secret. What good does it do to make all that drama public knowledge? When she can comprehend the details we will share them with her. Upon her approval and if we see it is prudent we will share all that took place to bring her to our arms. Until that happens people needn’t know anything beyond the fact that she is ours. Period.

——————

How have you dealt with it when others have singled out you or your loved ones? It’s been said we should celebrate our differences. How can we do that in a respectful way? How can we show love to those we disagree with, our enemies?

Who doesn’t love the opening of Dumbo when the stork struggles all plucky over the clouds until he finds the train where Mrs. Jumbo awaits the arrival of her precious child? Such sweetness when he plays a note and then sings Happy Birthday to the little tyke.

Where did all this stork business start anyway? Wouldn’t the pouch of a kangaroo make more sense? Or if this delivery creature had to fly why not a big strong pterodactyl?

So we somehow have this idea that offspring find their way to us by a mystical force. Logically a stork has little or nothing to do with the acquisition of children, so maybe fate plays a hand, or possibly God. As parents we know the process involves more than the multiplication of cells and the influence of genes. Heredity gets us closer to idea of a child placed in our family by design. Be it through conception, adoption, marriage, or other family-making ways it would seem that a force is at work placing children in the arms of their parents.

Some intimate conversations followed my writing an article on our orphanage blog called “Sometimes I don’t know how to pray“. Then a few other blog posts trickled in giving me cause to pause. One friend speaks of the waiting pangs as they painstakingly walk the steps to adopt their first (or first, second and third kids all at once). Another dear friend rejoices over the eleven children God has blessed them with; arms wide open to more should they come into their lives.

So I wonder which ones are mine.

Hannah cared for Samuel for just a few years after month after month of agonizing infertility.

Moses’ mother let the child suckle at her breasts in preparation for a destiny of liberation away from her.

Jesus started to pull away from his mothers’ grasp as a youth as he discussed business with grown-ups.

Rebekah had a boy with failure to launch issues.

Moses ended up running away from his adoptive mother after a life of privilege.

Our children never really walk out of our lives. No matter how long, or short, they stay physically close to us a mother is changed forever. Each child leaves a mark.

I currently mother five children. They are mine. I know this.

We have an orphanage. We provide for the kids. We interact with them and they know us. We have placed caregivers in the home.  But, someday I will be more closely involved in the lives of the children who live in The House of Dreams. I have yet to mother these children.

Because, I wonder which ones are mine.

To date 53 children have lived at the House of Dreams. Seventeen of those are still with us: 10 boys and 7 girls; ages 10 and under. Two of those 17 are assigned to be adopted soon. Two others are on a course to be reunited with their birth parents. The math and statistics tell us the 13 that are left will grow into adults under our care.

So, I wonder which ones are mine.

Should you choose to believe in dreams one of those 13, a little girl, is destined to a family. I saw another of the 13, a boy, running to his adoptive parents in a vivid dream one night some time ago. That would bring the number to 11.

11+5=16.

Which ones are mine?

When we started our adoption process (before we knew how things worked) there were three little girls in our orphanage we would have loved to adopt. Pati, Carolina, and Ximena are now lovely European young ladies. Our girl is Kaitlynn. She came to us as a surprise, hand-picked for our family from an orphanage on the other side of town.

People ask us if we will adopt again. It was never in the plans. So to give the surface answer I say no. Yet I know that about a dozen or so kids will be dropped in my mothering arms. Maybe sooner than I think.

I ask myself why I do not yet mother them, the 17 over there. The reasons too deep and hidden still, I settle back into mothering my five. I don’t feel guilty about it. It just doesn’t feel like the time for more yet. I know it’s coming. I know there will be a time when some of the children living now in the House of Dreams will be mine.

So I wonder why I don’t run over there now and squeeze them all tight. I wonder why I don’t say to each of them, “You are mine until you belong to another.” What am I waiting for?

I am waiting to know which ones are mine.

Dare I ask the Great, Stork-like, Pterodactyl, God person?

Which ones are mine?

A few months ago a member of our church told me she had an idea of a way to honor us for ten years of service in Bolivia. She had rallied some other people from church to help her with this idea. They wanted to bring DaRonn’s mom down for a visit. She had never been to Bolivia before. This member of the church said that she wanted DaRonn’s mom to see all we had accomplished and be proud of her son. I told them this was a great idea.

For the following weeks we communicated across the continents to prepare: the tickets, the time off work, the passport, the visa, and the vaccination. Finally she came! We had a wonderful week with Grandma Charlie in town.

On her final day in the city of Cochabamba we observed Pedestrian Day, during which use of motor vehicles is prohibited. After the church service we had a nice little walk together. Back at home we made fun photos for posterity.

We are so very grateful for this amazing gift given to us by the church body here at Iglesia Cristo Nación. ¡Los cristonacioneros son lo máximo!

Enjoy some pictures from our final day together.

"Aragatza" best ice-cream in town and it's sold from the side of a truck

Gabrielle wanted to bring our poodle Shep along for the walk (photo by Raimy O.)

Another photo by Raimy O. of Timothy

DVD sales in front of our gate. That's our ministry's sign. DaRonn and his mom share a love of movies.

The blue graffiti says "Rechaza el Engaño" which means: Resist Deception

Our neighbor in the market. She sits here every day.

The Washington family with Grandma Charlie

Mother and Son

Halloween, Day of the Dead, and All Saints Day… three days to celebrate the dead, the eternal unknown, and fear. I heard this phrase first from Joyce Meyers and since then from various sources: “Do it scared.” Nike’s brazen catch phrase shouts: Just do it!

Through the pain, doubt, confusion, fear and trials a passion beating in the chests of emboldened missionaries around the world drives us to remain steadfast. To deny the existence of these hardships is to belittle the price paid for centuries to get the message of the Good News to all corners of humanity.

In sharing these thoughts I do not hope to garner pity or sympathy. I desire to first thank God that he has enabled me to confront these issues instead of cowering, crippled and paralyzed, in the face of impossibilities. As a secondary measure I hope to portray honestly some realities that those who want to dedicate their lives to missions can expect to face.

10. Deceived – I worry that the sacrifice we have made is too great in comparison to the good we assume we are doing.

9. Harmed – The calloused skin around my heart makes it hard for me to feel compassion and makes it easy to block out the hurting people around me.

8. Harming – I fear our kids will suffer irreparable harm.

7. Inadequacy – It often feels as though our best just isn’t good enough to confront the enormity of the needs surrounding us.

6. Misunderstood – Sometimes I think people perceive us as money mongers because we might push too hard to finance the things that we think we need to do.

5. Compromise – With all the adapting and flexibility demanded by the conglomerate roles of wife, mother, Bolivian resident, U.S. citizen, and missionary I think I will lose myself and therein lose every bit of authenticity and relevancy.

4. Overextended – Living on the extreme edge in so many areas of life I wonder if there will be an event that pushes us over and sends us tumbling down the incline to certain defeat.

3. Blindsided – I put a bunch of pressure on myself to excel at everything I attempt. I know that I cannot hope to be the best in everything. So I am concerned that the things I have chosen to let slide are actually the things that end up being the most important, but I find out too late.

2. Identity – I fear I am driven by the validation which come from accomplishments because so often I am consumed by what we do. I lose sight of the truth of who I am and who God is in my life.

1. Disappointing – What scares me most is the sense that I will be a big, fat disappointment.

Man! If that’s not a downer list, I don’t know what is.

*** Tomorrow I reveal my new novel project for the month of November. It will be a much happier post.

Thank you for reading my lists. On this day 10 years ago we boarded a Bolivia bound plane with our tiny children. The next day, November 1st, we were swallowed up by the foreign. I would be lying if I told you I didn’t have some trepidation about the next 10 years ahead of us. If I know one thing I know it won’t be boring. Onward.

Sunday’s a day of hope. It’s the day we remember the very first resurrection Sunday when Christ conquered death, hell and the grave opening a way of salvation to all who would believe on Him. What better day to look ahead at the coming years and bear my soul of some of the hopes I have?

I hope…

10. …we can get the Dreamers into a permanent home with a big yard they can call their own for years to come.

9. …we can get a home with a big yard and guest quarters for the Washington family that we can call our own.

8. …we can help the church purchase or build an excellent facility.

7. …I can get a book published, in English. (more than one would be great too…)

6. …we can help our two youngest kids become bilingual in speaking, reading and writing.

5. …we can do some big time traveling with our kids.

4. …we can solidify and grow the mechanisms we have began to provide for us when we get old.

3. … we can get our kids started out well on their adult lives.

2. … we can establish and implement a working plan for helping launch the Lifetime Dreamers into adulthood.

1. … we can stay focused, strong, and impassioned about knowing God and doing His work.

*** Next and final list in this 10 Lists series: 10 Scariest Things About Missions  [Because it is Halloween... scary... get it?] ***

I am fully aware that in the grand scheme of things I know diddly squat about all that God has done and is currently doing as a result of prayer. This I do know, He is doing stuff. For that I am so very grateful.

10. My mom’s grandmother lived with them. I never knew her but I am pretty sure I would have loved her. My mom told me once that my great grandmother would pray for them. I like to think that some of those prayers spilled over onto me. I believe my blessed life can be attributed in part to this woman of faith.

9. Every night before we went to bed my mom or my dad would pray with us. That same tradition we keep in our house too. One of my favorite prayers that I learned as a child comes from Numbers 6. As you read these words you can be assured that those prayers have taken affect in my life and the lives of my family.

 ²⁴ “The LORD bless you and keep you;

²⁵ The LORD make His face shine upon you,
And be gracious to you;

²⁶ The LORD lift up His countenance upon you,
And give you peace.”

8. From the time I was a small child I began to pray for my future spouse and my children. Listing things has always been a part of my nature. I took my list before the Lord of what I dreamed for my family. What a joy to know that the people who share my roof have been brought to me by my God.

7. Every teen likes to decorate their walls. My choice of posters were maps of the world. As I would walk by I would reach my hand out and run my fingers along the names, borders, oceans, dots and lines. I would pray for the nations. I would pray that I could go to the world. I prayed God would let me be a missionary.

6. When our little family wanted to go to mission school we had to make a move from St. Joseph, Missouri a couple States South to Tulsa, Oklahoma. We had the moving truck all packed and enough money to our name to pay for the gas to get down there. As we were rolling down the gate of the truck a friend from church came running up and handed my husband an envelope. He told DaRonn to wait to open it until we were in Tulsa. The money in the envelope was enough for our first two months of rent in our new city.

5. When we were in mission school our teachers encouraged us to write out our visions or goals. DaRonn and I wrote a five fold statement of what we hoped to do as missionaries. Since we had already spent extensive time talking about this very thing we were able to show them our list without hesitation: 1. Bible Schools, 2. Church, 3. Social aid, 4. Multi-media publications, 5. Missionary mobilization. God has graciously allowed us to step into each of these areas to some degree and see good results.

4. So many prayers regarding adjustment, culture and language learning, safety, wisdom, and provision were answered to confirm us as missionaries in those first few years. One instance of health comes to mind. An outbreak of Dengue fever hit our area. I got it. I have never felt closer to death in my whole life. I am grateful to have recovered from that plight.

3. A while after my final pregnancy came to a close with a c-section some complications presented themselves in my woman parts. I was so frustrated when the conclusion was made that I should have cysts surgically removed. The chance of malignancy scared me. God sent a dear friend (Livvy Lu) at just the right moment to help me not lose hope. He also provided the finances for the surgery through the donations of friends. No cancer!

2. Prayers saturated the adoption process for our youngest child. I thank God that the Bolivian paperwork is finalized and she has been in our home for just about a year and a half.

1. Many people have chosen to come alongside us in prayer over our family and ministry. I see those prayers answered every day. Testaments to this: DaRonn and I have a strong happy marriage, all our children have soft hearts for God, we are a healthy bunch, the ministry impacts more people than we can count, and the growth continues strong.

This I share not to boast in our own righteousness, which is but filthy rags, rather to give glory to God, the eternal Lord and gracious Father.

*** Next list: 10 Hopes for the Coming Years ***

10. Trying to walk through the most crowded market in Santa Cruz, Bolivia pushing a deluxe, much-too-large stroller while corralling a three-year-old and a two-year-old and negotiating prices in the first first week of learning Spanish. It had rained the night before. In the three hour trek I managed to buy two pillows and three sets of sheets.

9. Hiring a maid to help with cooking, cleaning, kid care and language practice only to come home after a meeting to find she had rearranged all the furniture in our home because she liked it better that way.

8. Running down stairs upon hearing screams of, “Die! Die! Die!” only to find the Bolivian gal who was staying in our home in the kitchen with a dish rag trying to smash the invasion of an army of ants each the size of my head while dancing around in an attempt to not touch the nastiness.

7. Purchasing eight pounds of cheese from the guy at the deli counter when I only wanted a quarter kilo and then crying in the supermarket because I didn’t have enough money to buy much else than that cheese and I didn’t know how to make it right. This also took place during the beginning stages of language learning. You tell me, ‘cuarto’ and cuatro’… not very different, right? VERY different.

6. Being asked to speak at a church in a rural city and wanting to connect with the pastor’s wife during some down time by going shopping. I heard the market in this city had great prices on clothes. I stopped in one of the stalls and saw some jeans I liked. I stepped behind the sheet rigged up in the corner with some clothes pins as a changing room. I came out with the new jeans on and asked the pastor’s wife if they looked alright. She said, “I wouldn’t know, I am not allowed to wear pants.” All the while smiling at me and trying to be polite.

5. Seeing a BMW rolling shiny down the road alongside two junior high aged boys clicking a horse pulling a platform as they collect trash.

4. Delivering my child in a hospital that looked like a relic from the 50′s. Caesarean.

3. Paperwork ad infinitum.

2. During our adoption being told that compassion is bad and love it good. “Compassion is pity and leads you to mistreat people. Love is good and leads you to choose to be an adoptive parent because you want to be a parent.”

1. Husband coming back from the snack stand during the middle of the movie empty handed. They told him they couldn’t sell him the popcorn because the people from the movie that would be starting soon would need to buy it. “So you aren’t going to sell me the popcorn?” he says. “No,” they say.

*** Next list: 10 Answered Prayers ***

Biographies comprise half of my list. I tend to prefer stories rather than instructional manuals. Please feel free to add your favorite missions books, articles or video links in the comments; I love to learn new things.

10. ‘Saint Patrick of Ireland’ by: Philip Freeman – My most favorite missions school teacher David Henry, a veteran missionary, had a long list of books and articles for us to read. We had to write short reports on what we learned from the assigned reading. Then, he facilitated in depth discussions in which we all participated. This fascinating biography from that time stuck with me.

9.  ‘Appointment in Jerusalem’ by: Derek Prince and Lydia Prince – What a thrill to read about the wife of the man who prayed with me to receive Christ as my Lord and Savior! This gutsy woman amazes me with her love and commitment.

8. Mother Teresa – I went looking online for the actual biography I read but there are so many I don’t remember which one it is. Right now my oldest daughter is reading it and has it with her at school. I love passing along great books to my kids.

7. ‘Through Gates of Splendor’ by: Elisabeth Elliot – Reading this book as a young teen I faced the issue of martyrdom for the first time ever. I also saw a glimpse at what walking in the kind of love God asks us to requires of us. I first heard the call to a life of extremes whispered on the pages of this book.

6. ‘On the Golden Shore: The Life of Adoniram Judson’ by: Courtney Anderson – An action packed biography of the life on Adoniram Judson and his mission to the Burmese people.

5. ‘Eternity in Their Hearts’ by: Don Richardson – A mind blowing look at how God makes himself known to all cultures of all eras and how we can cooperate with the eternal plan of God already in motion.

4. Perspectives – I think I would very much enjoy participating in a complete Perspectives course because the one book we own has been of great benefit to us as missionaries. The monster volume is a collection of articles written by dozens of missionaries and people working in the field of missions. The articles are grouped for easy reference. Highly recommended for anyone serious about doing mission work.

3. ‘When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty without Hurting the Poor… and Yourself’ by: Brian Fikkert, Steve Corbett and John Perkins – Even thought I haven’t yet read this book it is very high up on my upcoming reads list because I have heard so many wonderful things about it.

2. ‘Language Acquisition Made Practical’ (L.A.M.P.) by: E. Thomas Brewster and Elizabeth S. Brewster – Plop me down in any country with this book and I will be conversing with the natives in their own tongue in a very short time. The book doesn’t teach you the language. It teaches you effective strategies on how to learn a language.

1. The Bible – Look at the life of Jesus, the ultimate missionary. Feel the passion of the original apostles. Watch Paul as he travels. Hear the prophets boldly proclaim the will of God. Walk with the patriarchs of the Old Testament. The heart of God expressed in words tells the beautiful story of mission from cover to cover of the Bible.

*** Next list: 10 Most Memorable Moments of Culture Shock ***

Best hero quote from the best superhero movie ever made ‘Incredibles’ :

“No capes!”

(Edna, superhero suit designer extraordinaire)

I agree with Edna; the most wonderful heroes go capeless.

And now, a list of 10 of my heroes.

10. Helen Incredible – I know she is a cartoon. I guess she personifies some things I admire. I admire her for her superb flexibility, and her sharp mind of how to apply that power. I admire that she fought for her family. I love that she and her husband are superheroes together.

9. Ruth of the Bible – I used to read this book of the bible over and over again. The story thrilled me. This woman followed her heart, even when it was tied to a land unknown and a strange people. What an honorable woman who was rewarded with prestige in the lineage of Christ and love in the arms of a good man.

8. Hudson Taylor – The very first missionary biography I read all by myself was about this man. I still remember being shocked and amused at the way he assimilated with the Chinese culture. He ate like them, dressed like them and even cut his hair like them. He loved people.

7. George Mueller – What faith! What prayer life! What miracles! He saw a need and he did something about it. Hundreds of children received love and care from the orphanages he founded. Thousands have been encouraged and challenged by the way he lived his life.

6. Ann Judson – She married a man who took her to the other side of the world during the era of slow boats. She worked hard alongside her husband as they ministered to the Burmese people through sickness, imprisonment, persecution, poverty, and emotional struggles. Yet she was integral in helping to translate the Bible to the native tongue. Her last words were Burmese.

5. Derek Prince – When I was eight this man came to speak at the little storefront church our family attended. To me he was just a preacher. He asked if anyone wanted prayer for anything. I went up and got saved. It wasn’t until much later in my life that I came to find out the marvelous missionary work this man did and the amazing teaching ministry he had.

4. Mother Teresa – Currently my oldest daughter is reading biography about this woman. So much could be said about her. Once she was asked how she did it all in such extreme conditions. She answered, “I help the one in front of me.” Wow.

3. The Apostle Paul – My favorite book of the bible is Colossians, which happens to be a letter written by Paul. We named our eldest son after the spiritual son this man nurtured, Timothy. He wrote, he discipled, he traveled, he taught, and he wrestled with authenticity and spirituality.

2. My Husband – So much could be said for this man who God brought into my life at the perfect time. He inspires me daily with his strength, commitment, perseverance, tenacity and passion. And he sings songs to me, makes me laugh, and enjoys hanging out with me. I love you, DaRonn!

1. God – Our Rescuer, Redeemer, Savior, Lord and Friend. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that were it not for Our Father God, His Son Jesus Christ and Our Guide and Comforter the Holy Spirit my life would have no meaning or purpose. God is my Ultimate Hero.

*** Next list: 10 Favorite Spots in the World***

10 days from now marks 10 years as missionaries for us. A few short trips took us to a smattering of other countries but most of that time we have done life in Bolivia.

A verse of scripture sums up how I feel about this anniversary. Nearing the end of his life Paul says these words to the young man Timothy, his protege.

This is a trustworthy saying, and everyone should accept it: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”—and I am the worst of them all. (1 Timothy 1:15)

Notice the verb ‘am’. Present tense. After years of miracles, skin of the teeth rescues from certain death, preaching the good news to multitudes and writing a great chunk of what we have come to know as the New Testament of the Bible the man says he IS the worst sinner.

In my teen years verse 12, just a few lines before the one above, was my favorite of the whole Bible:

And I thank Christ Jesus our Lord who has enabled me, because He counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry

I reveled in the truth I connected with in these words. Then I skipped past the wealth of hard wisdom in the following verses and dove into the admonitions of holy living. Now, I can understand more of what I used to criticize in the words of Paul.

Before, I used to say, “How can Paul, such a great hero, say he currently holds the ranking of the worst sinner?” Now I understand. More life means more time to mess up. More mess ups means more reliance on the grace of God. I get it now.

Paul lived about 30 more years from the moment Jesus met him on the Damascus road. His radical conversion took him from persecutor of Christians to persecuted believer. Since my conversion 25 years ago I have served him faithfully. You would think I had the right to put on a more-holier-than-thou hat and strut the wonderfulness of me for all that has been accomplished.

Not so. I despise the thought.

Were someone to try and put such a load on my head I would throw it down and smash it in the dirt with the heel of my foot. Give me a ratty, sweat-stained baseball cap to shove on over my ponytail that I might bend my head down and continue to work, unidentified and unnoticed. I am the worst of sinners. Jesus Christ came to the world to save sinners. These are trustworthy sayings.

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Paul and Timothy hung out together. I wonder what they talked about. Being human and young I imagine Timothy asked Paul about his extremes: the worsts, the bests, the most favorite, the most amazing, etc. Not all their talks were Bible worthy material.

In the coming days I would like to share some lists that talk about these last ten years, and maybe even some of the years preceding those.

The index:

1. 10 Lists (10/22)
2. 10 Heroes (10/23)
3. 10 Favorite Spots in the World (10/24)
4. 10 Tastiest Foods in Bolivia (10/25)
5. 10 People Who Changed My Life (10/26)
6. 10 Best Missions Books and Articles (10/27)
7. 10 Most Memorable Moments of Culture Shock (10/28)
8. 10 Answered Prayers (10/29)
9. 10 Hopes for the Coming Years (10/30)
10. 10 Scariest Things About Missions (10/31)