Lalo is the pastor of the Miskito church in Waspam on the Coco River of Nicaragua. He and his wife have eight children and two grandchildren living with them. Lalo makes a living by planting beans and rice, but he rarely has enough money to support his family.
One day a man floated down the river with his family on a small raft. His wife was pregnant and having problems. The doctor in Waspam said that the only way to save her life was to take her to the regional hospital eight hours away. The ambulance would take the parents, but not the preschool boys. So the man left two poorly clothed boys at the house at the Baptist church and told one of Lalo's older children that he would be back in a few weeks.
Lalo cared for the boys as if they were his own. When no one returned for the children after several weeks, I asked Lalo what he would do. He repliead, "I will raise them as my own. How can I do anything less when God has entrusted me with these children?"
Eventually, the parents with the new baby did return. The pastor's family was sad to see the boys go and Lalo asked why they had brought the children to the church. The father replied, "I heard you were good people and could be trusted."
Are we willing to sacrifice for others in need?
Viola, a missionary in Middle America and the Caribbean
This is an excerpt from a daily devotional that was given to me. 365 stories from different missionaries around the world of God working where they're at. Honestly? The devotional often does absolutely nothing for my spiritual life, but this particular one struck me at my center. Firstly, because I am head over heels for adoption and caring for the less fortunate. So, no surprises, I was in joyful ridiculous tears about this wonderful man, Lalo. But it's more than just the story of a good Samaritan...
I love that this man was not Lalo's friend or neighbor or even acquaintance - he never even met Lalo, he only spoke with his child. I love that this man trusted strangers and I love that those strangers took up the burden he laid for them without question. There was never another option for Lalo but to care for these boys. He could have called around or passed them off to someone better off financially or with fewer mouths to feed, yet the words that poured forth from his mouth were "How can I do anything less?"
Rory is three months this Sunday. Mark and I were looking for a specific picture on the computer and stumbled across our sweet boy just days after he was born. Our six pound baby has doubled in weight and grown close to 6 inches. We have adjusted his carseat straps for his height and he wears 6 month onsies. He loves to stand (with assistance obviously) and can keep himself sitting upright against a pillow. He talks almost incessantly and tries his hardest to crawl when he's on his belly, but it mostly just looks like a really intense oblique exercise.
Mark and I are hardly impoverished (except by American standards), but could I imagine caring for two preschool aged boys? In our studio apartment? With our one and a half incomes? Would I take them in and treat them with the same love and affection as I do my little Rory? Knowing I would only be caring for them for several weeks? Knowing it might be forever? How would I respond? Would I document their growth and pay attention to them with the same fervor as I do my own son? How could I not?
As you may know, I work for a church. A very small church with only three employees, which allows me serious diversity in my job description. I clean the bathrooms and take out the trash every Friday, but I also get to design our website and create the cover art for our worship programs. Advent is coming and we are preparing. Part of preparing has been designing the cover art for the sermon series. The verse is Isaiah 9:6,
I love that this man was not Lalo's friend or neighbor or even acquaintance - he never even met Lalo, he only spoke with his child. I love that this man trusted strangers and I love that those strangers took up the burden he laid for them without question. There was never another option for Lalo but to care for these boys. He could have called around or passed them off to someone better off financially or with fewer mouths to feed, yet the words that poured forth from his mouth were "How can I do anything less?"
How can any of us?
Rory is three months this Sunday. Mark and I were looking for a specific picture on the computer and stumbled across our sweet boy just days after he was born. Our six pound baby has doubled in weight and grown close to 6 inches. We have adjusted his carseat straps for his height and he wears 6 month onsies. He loves to stand (with assistance obviously) and can keep himself sitting upright against a pillow. He talks almost incessantly and tries his hardest to crawl when he's on his belly, but it mostly just looks like a really intense oblique exercise.
Mark and I are hardly impoverished (except by American standards), but could I imagine caring for two preschool aged boys? In our studio apartment? With our one and a half incomes? Would I take them in and treat them with the same love and affection as I do my little Rory? Knowing I would only be caring for them for several weeks? Knowing it might be forever? How would I respond? Would I document their growth and pay attention to them with the same fervor as I do my own son? How could I not?
As you may know, I work for a church. A very small church with only three employees, which allows me serious diversity in my job description. I clean the bathrooms and take out the trash every Friday, but I also get to design our website and create the cover art for our worship programs. Advent is coming and we are preparing. Part of preparing has been designing the cover art for the sermon series. The verse is Isaiah 9:6,
"For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be on His shoulder,
and His name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."
Being a mom rewrites my life constantly. Everything takes on a new meaning, everything takes on new importance - this verse takes on new meaning, new importance. I think of when we decided on Rory's name and how we could suddenly see him, see his personality and future wrapped within that name. I am so eager to meet the man I am raising (not too eager, I can wait). And in considering this verse, I am beginning to see it from the perspective of the child being called these things rather than the man. Because Jesus didn't grow into being God. He was from the moment he was born.
Heleumau'ilanihekilikahiaualepo'i
My name, gifted to me by my grandmother, is a poem about an angel who came to earth to live as a flower rather than remain among the hosts of Heaven because fleeting life is a precious gift. Rory's name is beautiful, strong, generous, wave-breaking anchor of Christ. Because that is my hope for his future. If I wrote one for Mark it would be strength through unconditional love, because that is who he is and what he brings to our family. And we are called. Not only by name but by what God has entrusted us with. How can we do anything less?
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