Step One: Results

Well, she wasn't at her office and so a phone call had to suffice. I explained to her the letter I needed from her in order to submit the passport application- and she responded by explaining to me that she had been describing this to me all along! Even though she had told me no such thing and actually argued the opposite, I played the confused American, and thanked her so much for clarifying. Supposedly, she will be contacting her superior about getting the letter this week.

Please pray, as we have learned the Zambian meaning of time to be worlds a part from western perspectives, particularly mine.

Step One

So, I need you all to pray. This Spring, I hope to be ale to come back to the US with Joab in order for him to see a bunch of different developmental specialists. It also happens to be my Mom's wedding, my sister's college graduation, and my Dad's retirement from the Navy. Kinda a big month for my fam, and I so want to be there- with Jo- for all of it.

This week is a crucial one in the process of getting us there. Tomorrow morning, I will go visit my social worker and try to convince her to write a letter approving Joab's Zambian passport application. For some reason I really can't figure out- this woman is not necessarily cooperative, and really has not been when I have brought up this subject in the past. Will you pray that the Lord would soften her heart for the sake of Joab and how much he would benefit from this trip? Even more, pray that the Spirit would quicken her step so that this letter is written quickly so that I can submit his application this week!

Looking ahead to the next steps, you can pray that the processing of his application goes smoothly (could be some glitches considering he does not have a birth certificate or any known surviving relatives), and that we will have it all ready for our visa appointment with the US Consulate. You can also pray that the Consulate would be compelled by our story and that they would be willing to grant Joab a visa!

Thanks so much dear friends, I'll keep you posted.

Addressing the Elephant

That thing has been standing in the corner long enough, and though I've been sorta dreading this, I think it is indeed time to explain some things. Well, one thing in particular- my not being married.

For most 23 year-olds, this would not be a problem. I, however, have decided to become a mother to a little boy, and therefore feel all sorts of penalty flags being thrown my way. So, this post is meant to share with you the story of how I got here and why I actually intend to stay here.

Before I get going- I wanted to reiterate a few things I have felt necessary to say in previous posts. These are my thoughts. They are my own- I do not claim them to be some sort of authoritative voice on truth. Now, I have actually spent a lot of time studying and praying towards their development, and so I hope they are useful to you, but, you need to know that they are by no means finished. They're what I've got for now, and I offer them to you to use as you are led.

Like I said in a recent post, I always thought I would end up married. It's part of the deal, right? It certainly seemed so if you were to take a look around our Christian culture. Being a wife was an assumed (and maybe even necessary?) part of being a Christian woman- and so naturally, I thought that I would step into that role right as I stepped out of college, or at least shortly thereafter.

However, I started noticing some things in Scripture, particularly when I came across 1 Corinthians 7 in my daily reading schedule. I read this chapter and my only response was..."What?" I think I actually reread it several times to make sure that I was understanding what Paul was saying. The basic gist, and crushing blow of it summed up in just a couple verses-

And the unmarried woman is anxious about the things of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit. But the married woman is anxious about worldly things, how to please her husband. I say this for your own benefit, not to lay restraint upon you, but to promote good order and to secure your undivided devotion to the Lord.

So Paul, if I am reading you correctly, marriage is actually a threat to my devotion to the Lord and therefore should be avoided if possible? Again, what?

This seemed strange considering no one I have ever met or heard or read had ever said anything remotely like this. In fact, if I were to consult one of the thousands of books and sermon series on Why Every Christian Should Be Married, I think I would actually find most saying closer to the opposite. Why had I always been told and encouraged to run towards a husband if God's Word actually advises me to remain unmarried?

I honestly felt betrayed by my culture and my community. I felt I had been fed a watered-down, if not completely falsified, version of the truth (I have felt this way before), and was angry about it. I searched for anyone who might have something more to say about this idea of 'remaining unmarried,' and found a book. Amy Carmichael's biography, written by Elisabeth Elliot. In these pages, I found what I felt to be a soul sister. She wasn't afraid to go against her culture and community for the sake of what she believed to be obedience. The pages I read of her life gave me courage to attempt the same, and so I went back to Paul to do some more thinking and praying about what it really meant to obey.

What I found- in order for me to obey Christ, I believe I am to seek to remain unmarried in order to be more wholly devoted to the service of the Lord. Further (the result of another search for the way to obey), I believe I am called to serve the Lord by caring for the fatherless. These two ideas melded together form what is now the elephant I seek to address- that my culture and community would not necessarily approve of my choosing to be single and to be a mother.

Amy Carmichael spent her days of caring for children she personally rescued from temple prostitution in India, and was called Amma (mother) by every one of them. If the Lord really does give me the chance to do something similar in working with orphans who have intellectual disabilities here in southern Africa- I hope He also gives me the grace and courage to stand as one undistracted and undivided in her obedience to that call.

Or as Amy, herself said- "Lord, do Thou turn in me all into love, and all my love into obedience, and let my obedience be without interruption."

Whoa Whoa Whoa

I know, change is not easy for everyone (cough...Kate), but it was time. I am having a hard enough time figuring out what to write on this thing, and not liking the look of it wasn't helping. So, welcome to the new So That He Might Increase, I hope you like it.

A quick note to you, dear readers- part of why I am having a hard time writing here is because I don't quite understand blogs, this one especially. Never knowing your audience, not being sure how your words will come across, wanting to dialogue with people instead of just word-vomit all over them: all reasons I don't necessary like this form of technology. And yet, I still want to write. I need to write- it helps me to process what I'm thinking.

So, an FYI for you all, the new blog is now complete with tabs (look up, please) for you to peruse according to your liking. If you don't want to read my latest thoughts on theology- don't click it. If you only want updates on life here in Southern Africa- make sure your mouse heads straight for that tab. Hopefully this will give both of us some freedom in how we use this blog...

May God be glorified on these electronic pages, and may you be blessed as you read.

Being a Mom

I was one of those little girls who stuffed pillows under her dress while playing house. I was always the Mom, with my little sister, Emily, playing my first child, and the pillow on it's way to being my second. Even then, I knew being pregnant was part of woman's life, and that eventually, I would be married and carry a baby in my tummy too.

Fast forward to college- even though I no longer stuffed my shirts with bed linens, I still dreamed of a perfect family. Perfect husband, perfect marriage, both of which inevitably led to perfect children and a relatively perfect life. I don't mean to say that I thought it would be smooth sailing- I just meant that it would turn out exactly as I had always imagined.

Isn't it always interesting when fantasy fades into reality? Since college, I have watched my 'dreams' give way to this life- the one where I turn out to be living in Zambia as a single-mom to a 2 year-old boy who has special needs. There is no perfect husband present in this picture, which in turn nixes the idea of the perfect marriage-thing. My son is certainly not what the world would call perfect. And yet, I have come to love this life.

The seas here are by no means calm and balmy, but then again, I don't think they are supposed to be. They are meant to be my training ground in depending upon and trusting the God I claim to be my own. They are designed to show me my own incapabilities in contrast to His capacity to do that which is otherwise deemed impossible. They are purposed to shout forth His glory and fame to this ever-darkening world.

I don't know where we'll end up, or where this path will lead, but I reckon I will have guessed it wrongly from the very beginning. And I think I'm OK with that.

Beaver Baileys

Today was a fun day. We have officially been "us" for one month now, and Joab decided to prove it by rolling back his upper lip and flaunting those two-front pearly whites for all to see. Yep, he got the beaver gene. Thing is, his beaver face is actually better than mine. Most of you know, that's sayin somethin.

I know it's silly, but today, it was such a fun glimpse of the bond God is growing between this little one and me. Part of me feels like a month has really been much longer- but the other is totally aware that we still have so many more to go. Won't you pray as we do?

(Sadly, I was never fast enough to snap a pic, but I assure I will continue trying so you all can enjoy.)

His Twin

As often as I think about Joab's birth mother, I am reminded of his twin- that for the beginning years of his life, he was part of a pair. Alone in his crib now, I'm sure there was once a time when he was never without her- maybe they even wore matching outfits all the time like me and my sister. And yet now, they are separated from each other.

I have had to do a lot of guess work to fill in the gaps of the story I have been told regarding their being apart, and I have to be honest, I have not found it in me to give much grace to the situation. I was told that the twins lived together at the same transit home when they first entered "the system," but that Eunice was moved to a home for older children once she reached the appropriate age. You see, Eunice is a typically developing child, and so moved right up with the other kids when she was almost 2 years old. Donald, on the other hand, was not typically developing. He didn't move, speak, attend, play, or interact like others his age (and apparently like his twin sister), but instead seemed to have a developmental delay- and so he was left behind to stay with the younger kids.

When Donald's social worker told me all of this, and then proceeded to tell me that she had recently been adopted by an American family in Washington- my heart sunk. Separated from his twin by an entire world, let alone ocean and continent. I left the meeting that day running it over and over again in my head- they couldn't have known. That family could not have known that they were leaving behind her brother. They would never do something like that, would they?

The day I brought Joab home, I spoke again with his social worker. "Oh, I will have to give you the contact information for his twin's adoptive family. They will be so happy to know that God has finally found a home for her brother. Maybe you could visit them sometime?"

Here's the part where I find grace hard to, well...find. They knew. They knew that as they took home their precious baby girl and tucked her into her brand new bed that her twin brother still lay alone in his crib. Alone, except for the 30 other toddlers laying in cribs around the room of the orphanage where they lived. They knew.

Now, I am fully aware that I could be wrong. I could have been told something incorrectly, or filled in gaps in ways I should not- but the premise of the story is not unique. The reality is that orphans who have special needs very seldomly get adopted by western families. Lots of excuses on our end add up to millions of children who just disappear into the crisis, unnoticed amongst the millions of other orphans in the world.

I cannot do anything about what has already separated Joab and his sister (and whether or not we will ever visit them, I am not sure), but I can certainly work to see that such a thing becomes less and less of a reality. I can work to see that orphans and vulnerable children who have disabilities are cared for and loved as they need and deserve, and not left alone in their cribs to waste away. More details on how I and Special Hope Network plan to do this later...

For now, I will ask you to pray for her. And for him. And for them. Oh yeah, and for me- pray that God would separate in me the anger that is necessary and not; that is righteous and proud, that I may move forward in my thoughts and actions in a way that is pleasing and honoring to Him- the Father of all fatherless.

Guest Post from Maddy and Molly!

My two very best friends were here for Christmas, so without further ado or introduction (these are the type of girls who just don't need one)...










































Some things never change. Dance parties. Watching Gilmore Girls. Dreaming about future hopes and aspirations. Creating dinners and baked goodies together. Worship with Maddy on piano and Beth on voice. Speed Scrabble. Early bedtimes for Molly. Lots of snacking. Reliving memories from university, Ohana, and trips to the beach, Atlanta and Spain.

And yet, many things do change. Instead of the typical Virginia white Christmas, a sunny, Zambian Christmas by the poolside. Locked gates, security systems, and guard dogs in lieu of the relative safety and openness of Charlottesville homes. Slashing grass replaces the ease of a lawn mower. And, most significantly, the babbling of a baby and the presence of a crib, cloth diapers, and sippy cups have entered into the equation.

Little Joab certainly earned center stage for our latest rendezvous together in Zambia. How could he not? His wispy eyelashes, puckered lips, and dimples are hard to dismiss. He is absolutely precious. And, beyond the physical, his arbitrary spurts of laughter, propensity for snuggling, and fascination with trees only add to his charm. Even his perpetual spitting up has become rather endearing (we know, we aren’t the ones who clean it up 90% of the time!), but it necessitates his wearing a large cloth as a cape and thus creating a backwards superman-esque appearance. In the past ten days, we have already witnessed dramatic growth: increased smiling, ability to follow objects with his eyes, walk with assistance, and even added vegetables and fruit to his previously very Zambian, bland diet.

We have learned that in the local language, Nyanja, there is no word for toy. Most children in Zambia do not play with toys, so why would there be a word to define them? Rocks and discarded trash form the main means of child entertainment. And so, I think the next milestone for this little fellow shall be his playing with toys. This certainly is a concept we rarely, if ever, face in America-teaching a child how to play. But, after he progresses past some of the initial wonders of what we consider "ordinary living", who knows what little Joab will be able to do!

Beyond sharing in Joab's first couple weeks at home, we had the privilege to catch a glimpse into Beth's current life. We've of course been able to keep in touch and hear consistent updates from her, but it was incredibly sweet to take part in it firsthand. We were so encouraged to see the way she is faithfully following Christ and being transformed more and more into His likeness. She is learning every day to give of herself and sacrifice her own desires and needs in order to serve Him, and it is beautiful. If we may say this--we are so PROUD of her and honored to be her friends!!

The three of us also had some time to step back and evaluate our friendships with one other. Sure, four years as college undergraduates living together and invested in similar activities brought us together, but what, if anything, will sustain our friendships? One and half years later we are each in different countries with various responsibilities and relationships. Each of us would be quick to confess that our friendships with one another have not been void of trial and challenge, and yet, the Lord has continued to draw us together as a source of companionship and refinement for each other. To continually ask the questions: What does it look like to live in obedience and faithfulness to the Word? Are there areas of my life I need to alter in accordance to Jesus’ commands? Am I becoming comfortable or always seeking more?

During these last developing years, we have each continually reshaped our responses to these simple though pivotal questions, and so this seems to have become the anthem of our friendships:

Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works
Hebrews 10:24

For, while some things may never change in our friendships with each other-that which provides the very foundation and impetus for our relationships-it is that which has eternally made us sisters.

His Mother

As I learn more and more about what it means to be a mother to Joab, I often find myself thinking of his mother- the one he was born to, I mean. I know very little about her, and what I do know I'm not even sure to be the truth. I was told by our social worker that Donald (Joab's birth name) was born to a mother and father in Eastern Province, and that he had 4 older siblings. One of those siblings, Eunice, happened to be his twin (more thoughts on this later).

When the twins were 4 months old, their father passed away of some sort of sickness. Their mother packed up her kids and travelled to Lusaka in order to collect his life insurance policy, but when they arrived, she found it to be worth only K50,000- about $10. Nowhere near enough to travel back home, let alone set up a new home in Lusaka. Stranded with no job, no house, no relatives nearby- she made a very bold and courageous move...she gave up her kids. Knowing she couldn't care for them, she made sure they got to places where they would be. The older siblings were placed in a large, westernized children's home, and Donald and Eunice were placed in a transit home for children under the age of two. She, herself, went to stay at a aftercare home for the sick and destitute while she looked for some sort of job.

Can you imagine the devastation of losing a husband, and then having to give your children into the care of someone else? She, stripped of absolutely everything, must have been utterly and utmostly heartbroken. How scared and hopeless she must have been, and yet, she still possessed the selflessness needed to do what she understood to be best for her children. I often think of that moment, when she had to let go of Donald's little hand and walk away from him- and my heart breaks too.

I so wish that I could have been the one to help restore their family; to bring them back together- but, God seems to have had other intentions. After about two months in Lusaka, Donald's mother passed away as well. Of what, I am not sure- perhaps sickness, perhaps something deeper.

And so, two years later, God's plan for me is to step in where she left off. You see, I will always be tied to this woman in the most unusual way- we are mothers to the same son. I will think of her often, and those like her too- and I will be sad, even angry about the horrors they have had to endure; the husbands and children they have lost.

That sadness and anger bring with them joy, however, as they help me to realize the honor it really is for me to be a mother to Joab- I, as his mother, get to have a front row seat in the redemption story God seems to be weaving in this little boy. And though a full measure of justice will not be worked out until the very end, I pray that God would use this blog to share with you the portion He chooses to unfold, and that He may receive all the glory as He does.

Another Year to Study

I promise to fill you in on the past weeks, but for now I want to share with you one of the things I am enjoying most about this time of year. Last year, I was recommended a Bible reading plan that turned out to be an incredible encouragement to me. I had tried a few other "read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year" kind of things, and did not do very well keeping up with them. But this one turned what was a daunting task into a very manageable, and really helpful tool for me in my study of God's Word. M'Cheyne (old pastor man from the Church of Scotland) has laid it all out so that by reading about 4 chapters a day, from 4 different books of the Bible, you actually read through the entire Old Testament once and the New Testament twice in one year.

I love that yesterday, I finished the schedule, and today am beginning fresh again. There's something really cool about ending the year by reading Revelation 22 and beginning with Genesis 1.

Here is a link I found to a nice printable version (thanks Mount Calvary Church, wherever you are), one you can stick as a bookmark in your Bible. I hope you enjoy, and Happy New Year!

http://www.mountcalvarybaptist.org/extra/documents/McCheyne%20Bible%20Reading.pdf