1 + 6 +31 = ?

? = sweet, beautiful chaos

1 movie (monsters & aliens in 3D at Great Escape) plus 6 adults (and I use that term loosely) plus 31 Hands of Hope kids was an interesting adventure yesterday.

I expected poor kids from the projects to be a little awed by a movie at a theatre on a big screen, especially in 3D. Which really means I expected them to sit and be quiet and "good".

They weren't.

They wanted more popcorn and something to drink and to sit in a different seat and beside someone else and to go to the bathroom and get a drink of water and they talked over the movie and.................

This in one difference I notice in these kids compared to the poor in Ecuador and Peru. Here in the United States we seem to all be born with an innate desire to get more for numero uno, ourselves. The kids in Ecuador and Peru are incredibly generous. Yes, these observations are oversimplified generalizations, but there is truth therein.

One thing I notice the Hands of Hope kids have in common with South American kids: I love them deeply. They are loud and obnoxious and somewhat ungrateful and incredibly beautiful and made in the image of God.

I got a kick out of helping D'marco navigate the sink and automatic electric hand dryers in the restroom. He had no idea how to get soap out of that stainless steel arm hanging over the sink. It was neat watching him figure out the dryer. He pushed it on all sides until figuring out it came on automatically as he put his hands under it.

There were two dryers.

He ran back and forth between them trying to keep them both running at the same time.

I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else yesterday.

Here in 3504

My journal entry from last Sunday 5.17.09:

12:30PM, Aultman Hospital, Palliative Care Unit, room 3504.

Grandma Royer has hours, or less, on this earth. She is heavily sedated. She is very thin and 89 and ready to die. She's been lonely and misses her husband dearly since Grandpa's passing in March 2008. She always said she would scold him for leaving her so unexpectedly when she gets to heaven. Please go easy on him Grandma, it was not his plan to leave you. Maybe you could just beat him in a game of tennis with your cancer free body. Enjoy it my love.

I often wonder what it will be like to touch the wounds of our savior. You shall know very soon.

So today may be your last day here. A cool but sunny day in the spring time. Chris and I got here about 7:30AM. Your pulse rate is rapid and your breath shallow. Sara and Andrew made it to say their "good-bye" to you. I hope you could hear them. They took Chris to get some lunch so it is just you and I here in 3504. Morphine is dripping in your veins. Oxygen hisses through the tube. Water bubbles constantly, adding moisture to your breaths. Your hands and feet are cold as your body struggles to supply them with blood. Your feet especially are ashen. Your eyes are closed, your mouth hangs open, your body skeletal and motionless. And you are beautiful to me. I watch the pulse in your neck to see if you are still with me here in 3504. Classical music plays on the radio.

You can go if you want, Grandma. I'm sure heaven prepares for your arrival. Perhaps your husband and your mother have been summoned to the gate to escort you into the King's presence. But probably not. Even though the King has a kingdom and a throne, He seems most like Himself as He serves. So maybe upon your arrival there will be just one there at the gate to greet you. And He will begin to take you toward the throne. And you will look at this one and know there is something about him. "But no", you'll think, "he can't be the King. He's dressed in commoners clothes." And yet your heart will burn within you. "Could it be him?", you think. You consider asking him. But you don't. "Surely the King would wear a crown and flowing robe and have an entourage. Would a king open and close the city gate like this one?"

And then you get to the throne. And the one you walk with sits on it and says "welcome home, Carolyn". And his light illuminates the city.

Grandma went home Monday morning.

Into marvelous light I'm runnin', out of darkness out of shame. By the cross you are the life you are the truth you are the way.

the pinning

Spent the afternoon at Malone University yesterday watching the class of 2009 receive their nursing pins. There were about 70 students. I had the honor of spending a week in Peru with 15% of them. It is truly amazing how you can spend one week on a mission trip with someone and be friends for life. Those of you who've done this know what I'm talking about.

So Jessica, Jon, Alyssa, Braedyn, Brannyn, Stephanie, Elisabeth, Ashley, Rebecca, Rachel and Bethany begin a new chapter in their lives. They will move on, move away. My prayer for them all is that they stay connected to the one who made them and his will for their lives. May their time in Peru continue to be a part of their life and lifestyle decisions. May they spread out through the world and be salt and light and advocates for children at risk. May they have a radical faith willing to follow the Man/God from Nazareth.

And this time next year I'll write the same post. And I'll pray the same prayer. And the names will be different. Right Dana, Ashley, Shane, Jacoby, Sarah, Alexandra, Corie, Tabitha, Kathleen, Amanda, Brooke, Melissa and Nikki?

tears in a bottle

Imagine a friend that would never leave you or forsake you.

A friend that believes in you just because it's you.

One willing to celebrate your achievements and sit with you in jail.

We have a God like that:

"You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book." - Psalm 56:8 (NLT)

No matter what you've done, or where you've been, God is catching and recording every single teardrop. He's recording them in His book. And yet He is willing to keep no record of wrongs. Incredible. I really don't get that.