Thunder and lightening. Dark clouds blowing through. Overcast! "We can't ride the zip line in the rain." She said.
"It will pass." I said.
"I gotta go to the bathroom!" 
"Again? You aren't nervous are you?"
"Maybe a little."
Sign the waiver, suit up with the all gear, ride two miles in a four wheel drive, transfer to all wheel four wheel drive, climb to the top.  "Clip your safety ring here."  Instructions. 
"Feet together, 'brake" hand like this,  hold the straps like so, SIT!" AWAY WE GO!

Across the valley, over the brook, slow down signal, helping hands.
"Good job! That wasn't so bad was it?"

 "Let's do it a gain!" "Push off backward?" OH BOY!

"WOAH! This platform moves!"
Finally, walk the swinging bridge back to earth, hugs, photos. That was fun!

AIN'T GOD GOOD!

The voice on my mobile phone was muted and sounded nervous. "Bamlachu needs lactose free formula. The hospital has none. There is none in the city."

"In a city of five million people?"  I said with what I am sure was a very irritated air. "I'll look into it."

I was staying in a guest house in Addis Ababa Ethiopia on a previously scheduled visit for other purposes. Our daughter Rebecca and her husband were going through the process of adopting two more orphans from Ethiopia and the "referral" had happened just before my arrival. I had visited the two, a little girl three and a half (supposedly) and a nine month old baby boy.

Sometimes, if her schedule allowed, Megana, a young female intern who was also staying in the guest house would accompany me and we could trade off amusing first one child and then the other. Then one day Bamlachu was not there. "He has diarrhea, he  is in the hospital."  The next visit he still wasn't there. I was assured he would be fine; two nights later the call came.

First I called the U. S. and explained what was happening and said: "Find someone who is coming and have them bring formula." A prayer chain began. Next Megana and I began walking down the dark, dreary, rather scary street. There are no sidewalks and no street lights, just hundreds people, too poor to drive or hire a taxi walking in the dust, rocks and at times, mud from the sewers.
At the first pharmacy the druggist was understanding but could not help. At the second they had formula! I bought a can and called the fellow from the orphanage. He met us at a restaurant since it was easier to locate than the guest house. I considered the problem solved. Not Quite! The formula was soon gone. "One little baby used all that?" "There are others." I was told.

I bought the remaining two cans, searched at other pharmacies, found one more and bought it also.  A few days later Doctor Kelly Wright, pediatrician, and her husband Matt arrived. They had come to Addis Ababa on an adoption journey and brought several more cans of the needed formula.

Now, many months later the children have "come home," had multiple doctor visits and I was told. "He had so many parasites in his little tummy he was unable to digest his food and probably would have died."

This true story is NOT about me. The referrals happened and coincided with my trip for a reason. I believe God arranged it all.

Ain't God good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sitting on the sofa, early morning light, coffee cup nearby. A door opens. Padded footsteps on the wooden floor.
Who comes? Coffee colored  face soft in the muted light. She wore a green printed shift as she shuffled barefoot  across the room and settled next to me. Her soft gentle hand clutched my arm as she cuddled close.
"Good morning Debritu."
"Good morning Poppy."
"Pictures?" She asked.
I opened my laptop and we looked at photos from the orphanage in Ethiopia where I had held her and we played with a ball. Was it a few  months ago or was it years? Seems like it.
Her tiny little fingers touched the screen and left prints...reminders of the moment.
At the orphanage she slept two to a bed, ate injera and wot and washed herself  over the grate that drains the courtyard. She chose her cloths from a "community" box. Now, from the drawer, she gets her shorts and Tee shirts, laundered and neatly folded. They are hers only. She is an integral part of our family and shares a BIG room with her sister, Fetlework.

Ain't God Good!!!!!!!!!

Once again I find myself in the early morning lost in thought.
Soft Spiritual music is playing.
I don't "feel" it.
"Walk by faith not by sight."
"I'm trying."
"Don't try, DO"
"Yes Lord"

                                                           MAYBE

Maybe your father was only your sperm donor.
Maybe he left you when you were very young.
Maybe he went to war and didn't return.
Maybe he was "too busy" with work.
Maybe he was "too busy" with play.
Maybe he mistreated you.
Maybe he mistreated others.
Maybe you have begun to follow him down the same path.
If any of the above apply................
It can be different.
Begin now.
There is a Father who "will never leave you nor forsake you."Deuteronomy 31:6
Every good and perfect gift comes from Him. Malachi 4:6
Forgiveness isn't easy, just worth it.
Change isn't easy, just worth it and it is only a decision away!
God is good.
Jesus paved the way.
All you gotta do is follow Him.

Yonatan will soon be nine years old. He is deaf and was born in Ethiopia. When he is happy he dances. He dances a lot.

No matter he can't hear music. I have seen him climb  onto the back of my pickup truck face toward the forest and dance, oblivious to anything else.

Last night we talked to him via SKYPE. It was difficult. Mostly his mom needed to interpret for him because she was sitting next to him and could get his attention! He was so enamored with looking at himself on the video cam he didn't watch as we tried to sign to him.

A bout a week ago, after his evening bath, he returned to his room, dropped the towel wrapped around him and watched his reflection in the window as he danced. The neighbors also watched. Little Yonatan didn't understand although he could not see them outside in the dark they were able to see into the room and watch as he performed.

He has discovered the "photo booth" program on my Mack Book. He likes to point the computer at himself and perform for his greatest fan; himself. 

There are tremendous challenges associated with adopting "older" children from another culture. I think it is worth it!

Ain't Go good.

"There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven."
It seems we are in a "season"of letting go.
First we sold the house where our three "children" grew up and divested ourselves of so many of the "things" that seemed so important.
We bought an RV, lived in it during the winter and moved ourselves and more "stuff" into a little house on the property of our "favorite" youngest and her husband in Southwest Missouri during the summer.
 During that time they acquired two deaf, orphaned children from Ethiopia. We have been blessed to not only teach them but to learn from them.
The school district administration where the children attended was not willing to provide required services, the farm was sold, and with it the little house.
The swings have been left behind and will be enjoyed by the children who have moved into the "old" house.
Again it became necessary to get rid of belongings we had deemed important and transport everything remaining to our recently renovated, purchased town home in Florida.
Now the sorting begins in earnest.
"Less is more" has become Carol's motto.
Where will it all lead?
What does God have in store for us next?
We await His answer.