He stares you down. His small body heaving from the screaming he has been doing. There is no calming him, the anger inside him cannot be calmed. He hits, says he hates you, so you pick him up. You hold him. He tries to bite. "How's your day been?" He'll begin to calm. "What was your favorite part of today?" He starts to suck his thumb. "Did you have a yummy lunch today?" He nods ever so slightly. His body begins to relax, but his eyes are still filled with anger.

If only. If only his birthmom hadn't done drugs.

She looks in confusion, she's been told the same thing day after day. A simple reminder. Our frustration is building. She has forgotten... again. She stumbles over her words, her eye brows furrowed.

If only. If only her birthmom hadn't drank alcohol.

She's a wild little thing, cute as a button but extremely ADHD. She doesn't listen to a thing, she can't control herself. When she wants something she'll go for it, whether it means chasing a ball across a street, running through Costco trying to find the Goldfish.

If only. If only her mom hadn't used meth during pregnancy.

She shrugs her shoulders, shakes her head, tries to look innocent. She lies, she steals, she hides, she manipulates. Nobody can resist her cute little smile, nobody. Just when we think she's on the way to healing something goes missing again. The process begins again, the sneaking, the keeping one eye on her whenever she comes and goes.

If only. If only she hadn't been taught at the tender age of five to steal.

My heart throbs. I want them whole, I want them healed. I want them to be normal. I want them to be cleansed of the heartbreak after heartbreak in their past. I want them to forget the neglect, the abuse, the pain. But here we are. A bunch of If onlys. We learn to accept...on most days. We learn to forgive. We learn that if the past were different than 9 little lives would never be ours. Ours to hold, nurture, love, adore, teach and treasure. They wouldn't be ours. They wouldn't be here. We learn. We learn to praise God in the healing of small things, we learn to control our tempers when all we want to do is scream. We learn that life isn't always easy, but look at Jesus' life. He lived a life of destitute, a life of sneers and humility. But in that life He demonstrated what true living was. True living isn't easy, true living isn't being spoon fed and well dressed. True life is hard, gruelling at times, and full of tears. But it brings that joy of persevering for His namesake. When people stare, when people ask if you have any friends, when people look at you like you're idiots for having so many children. Life is supposed to be full. Overflowing with purpose. With love. And so we journey. We ignore the past, we try to forgive birth parents and focus on the present. We laugh, we work through moments and we live.

Things I miss about Nicaragua

1. The heat.

2. The humidity.

3. The children.

4. The 6-month old baby with the chubby cheeks and heavenly smile.

5. The rain.

6. The way the thunder and lightning shake the ground as we sing "Our God is an Awesome God."

7. The kissing sound of geckos.

8. The fellowship.

9. The beans and rice.

10. The searching the bathroom stall before going in.

11. The cold shower after sweating all day.

12. The falling asleep watching a lightning bug dance around the ceiling.

13. The laying in hammocks late a night talking with a dear friend and watching the lightning, while listening to a party across the street.

14. The sound of babies crying in the room that echos.

15. The watching the love the nannies have for the children and babies.

16. The laughter of children.

17. The sound of spanish, the tongue rolling the r's.

18. The bus rides.

19. The church.

20. The music on the beach.

21. The taste of Coca-cola, much sweeter since it is made with REAL sugar.

22. The early mornings.

23. The awakening to a rooster's crow.

24. The awakening to children playing volleyball.

25. The lush green mountains.

26. The slight breezes that make you thank God.

27. The swings that make up for it when there are no breezes.

28. The soreness after wheelbarrowing heavy mud.

29. The trying to take everything in as you grip your camera between your hands knowing that not even the camera can capture all this, so you try to remember everything.

30. The small cross ontop of the mountain.

31. The sound of children singing.

32. The stories told among us.

33. The videos we made when exhausted.

34. The trying to hold back tears.

35. The last glance at Managua before leaving it all and going home.

Note: This is only some of the things I miss.

Leaving Nicaragua

I woke a 1:45, unable to sleep. I lay awake until it was time to get up and go. We all met up and crossed the busy highway at 3:30...fun and adventurous. We arrived at the airport early, and ended up standing in line for a while before we were able to actually check in and head through security and to our gates. It was so hard watching Managua grow smaller as we ascended, I held back all emotion. We landed in Houston, made it through custom without any problem and called mom. My facebook status that day was "Toilet paper now goes in the toilet and the drinking fountain water can be drunk." Three of us girls had a blast sitting in the very back row of the plane, we actually met some pretty cool people who were waiting for the bathroom. Seattle was a near nightmare. We had about 15 minutes to get to our gate, and get our boarding passes. When we landed we found out that our gate was at the opposite end of the airport. We all ran. We made it in record breaking time only to be told we weren't on that flight. We all had the flight number and everything. The man who helped us was no help, leaving us frustrated. What was more frustrated was that we were only an hour from home. We made a call to the travel agency who had booked our flights and they told us we had been changed to a later flight. We then realized the gate was on the other end of the airport...only a couple gates down from the flight we had just gotten off of. So, we ran again. We all held our breath as we checked in. And sighed in relief when we were all on the flight. Soon we were headed home...it was very bittersweet to me. I missed home, I missed mom and the kids, but I wanted so badly just to be back in Nicaragua. I love the ride from Seattle to home, by the time you are done ascending, you descend. It short and sweet. We all walked together chatting about when we would see eachother next. I saw mom, Kyla, Trey, and Amy, with my birthday gift-a puppy. Everyone looked so white after being with Nicaraguan children for the last 10 days. After getting our luggage and giving hugs to team we then go home. I'm happy, until all the gifts are handed out and I'm left with the longing to be back. For the next three days I cry. I cry because I want to be back. I miss so much about it. It changed me, taught me, and began to mold me. When in a different country, you forget about your fear of small creature and how you hate to be sweaty. You forgot about how you look and what you wear. You forget about comfort. And you live. For those ten days I realized what it felt like to live with meaning. I realized how stress free it was to live so simply and humbly for 10 days. Those 10 days were days that may very possibly be the happiest of my entire life. The joy there is contagious as well as the smiles. How HE loves to offer me a trip like this. How HE loves to send me, to mold me, and to show me what He accepts as pure and faultless. How HE loves. It's been 5 weeks since we arrived home. 5 weeks. But not one day has gone by that I haven't thought of Nicaragua. Haven't missed it. Haven't wanted to be there. A couple days after returning home I was in church, the day was hot and beautiful as we walked into our church. The air condition welcomed us, and we sat in comfort. But my heart was longing deeply for Nicaragua. Half way through the service thunder crackled and rain began to pour. I mean pour.

It made me smile. It felt as though God sent it for me. He brought me comfort through the rain. How He loves. This journey hasn't stopped in Nicaragua. I sat in church again a couple weeks after returning. My hear cry was "God, why can't I be there?" I truly felt Him laugh at me, a laugh as though HE knows what HE holds for my future. Many sleepless nights, many rainy days, many small creatures, many children, many days full of laughter, smiles, and joy. But I know what will also accompany the days in other countries, seeing the broken, battered and lost. Tears, pain and sorrow. But still HE whispers to my aching soul. "I have great plans for you. You'll go."

Nicaragua 8

Left Jinotega in the morning. Piled suitcases into a car and headed out with the rest of the bags, down a muddy street through construction while men whistled and women and children and dogs stared. Drove down through the gorgeous mountains to Managua. We went to Tiptop Chicken (our KFC). We then drove to the market, I still try to take in every shop, every poverty stricken home, every vendor, every person. I'm in love with this place. The market was filled with dozens of trinkets. We all stop by the hammock shop. We bought 10-15 hammocks, the man laughed as he tried hard to keep up with all of us. He smiled ear to ear as we all left him panting in his shop. While choosing hammocks a robbery took place at the other end of the market, men went running, trying to find out what exactly was happening. We walked around the market buying bracelets and small trinkets to take home to family and friends. Even though it rained, the market was still sweltering, we would stop in shops just for the fan that every shop owner had. We then headed to the best western hotel. We had our last dinner as a team, soaked our dirty feet in the pool, and made videos. After dinner I decided to take a shower, rumor had it that the shower had warm water. I crossed my fingers only to find it slightly warmer than the showers in the orphanages. To me though, it was wonderful. Suddenly it hit me. This was a different world than I was from. A world where toilet paper goes into trashcans because the pipe can't handle it. Waste fills the lakes, and trash spills down the sides of mountains. But for some reason it was the water bottle on the bathroom counter that got me crying. The water bottle placed faithfully each day, because the tap water was filled with amoebas. A world that American would shudder at living in. A different world of beauty and grace. A world I love and admire. This is the world God called me to. This is the world my heart longs for. A simple life, but a life overflowing with meaning. A world glorifying God from the depths of poverty with joy and laughter and smiles. A world I miss.

Nicaragua 7

Our last day in Jinotega. Held a small VBS in the morning, I think we enjoyed it more than the children. We themed it around the story "Rainbow Fish". We sang songs in Spanish, played games and did crafts. We dug for the last time in the septic tank hole, we completed about 4 feet deep...almost halfway mark. We went to market, picked up coffee, walked through Jinotega's Central Park. Then picked up the children from school. We spent the evening celebrating one of the girl's birthday, with ice cream and delicious banana cake. We held worship and shared testimonies with the children. Our big circle, with children who only understood what we said through translation. Our big circle of broken people made new by Jesus Christ. Our big circle of orphans. Our big circle of smiles. Our big circle of laughter. Our big, beautiful, love-filled circle of people from two different worlds. Our big circle worshipping one God. We Americans live with such gripping hands, holding onto worthlessness. I've seen what it is to live fully, with meaning. To live serving others. To hope. To dream. To prosper. To sacrifice. Children teach so much... I thank God for this opportunity.