One Size Doesn’t Fit All

Blogging is a funny thing in that it gives everyone the chance to stand up tall on their soap boxes and boldly declare I AM RIGHT ABOUT THIS AND ALL THE THINGS!

I say this with my tongue planted firmly in my cheek because, Hi! I’m a blogger.

That said, even I find myself weary of all the chatter online sometimes, but I find that the chatter only frustrates me when it pertains to subjects for which I feel a significant amount of passion.

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Orphan care  – For me, that’s a big one, and more and more I’m seeing posts that frustrate me.

Posts that take unnecessary digs at adoption, at Christians who work to make orphanages more comfortable, crop up now and again, and I find myself terribly annoyed at this idea that the “Christian Orphan Care Movement” is actually doing more harm than good for children in the world.

This attitude incites a sense of shame and guilt for those people who really just want to help. To be clear, it’s not the topic that I disagree with, it’s the attitude that families who want to adopt, or to help bless children in orphanages, are contributing to a world-wide problem that leaves me with a sour taste.

Here’s the thing – there is no one size fits all solution to the orphan crisis. In a perfect world, yes – all children would grow up inside their own families, their own countries, their own cultures. Absolutely, I believe that that is the ideal.

However…

This world is not perfect, and the solution to children growing up in institutionalized care is convoluted. It will look different for every child, for every family, and for every country.

Photo by Keely Scott

Photo by Keely Scott

There are children all over the world who have been orphaned for a thousand different reasons. Some are orphaned by drugs and alcohol, some are simply abandoned. Some are orphaned by tragedy, others are orphaned because their physical needs are too great a burden. Some are orphaned because their culture and government dictates life in such a way that parents have little choice.

The reasons for a child to be left in an orphanage are far too great, and they each require different solutions. While I do not want to assume that adoption is right for every child in every orphanage, I do want to say to parents who are hoping to adopt, in the process to adopt, dream of adopting – you’re doing a good thing! You’re offering a child hope for a future outside the confines of the orphanage. Don’t ever feel guilty for that – ever.

To those who are working to restore children to families who simply couldn’t afford to raise their children – you’re doing a good thing! Thank you for working so hard to reunite children with their families. Don’t ever feel guilty for that – ever.

To those who are working to make orphanages more comfortable and livable – you’re doing a good thing! Providing a stable shelter, offering clothing and supplies, funding renovations and better equipment – these are all necessary to making sure that children inside orphanages are receiving the best they possibly can given their current circumstance. Don’t ever feel guilty for that – ever.

To those who host orphans for a brief period of time then send them back to their homes – you’re doing a good thing! Many of you will move forward to bring those children into your homes permanently. Others will love those children from afar, and give them the hope of knowing that they are loved and valued inside this world. Don’t ever feel guilty for that – ever.

I do believe that children orphaned by poverty are some of the most devastating, because I feel the heartache of a family who simply cannot afford to raise a child. This is a travesty, and in areas where this most often happens, let’s keep working together to help these families stay together.

Uganda-6-days---Jan21

Next week, a team of bloggers will head to Uganda to talk about the work of Compassion International. This is the 5-year anniversary of Compassion Bloggers, and it will undoubtably produce amazing words and images that will allow us to see what orphan prevention looks like. Because of their hard work, Compassion International is keeping families together, keeping children out of orphanages, and keeping communities in tact. I’ve seen them do this, and I’ve never been the same for it.

There are so many solutions to the orphan crisis that people are working on around the world, and I’m grateful for each one of them. We need to keep working together to defend the orphan, in whatever capacity that may look like. This isn’t a battle of Conservative Christian verses Liberal Christian and who has the best solution. Rather than continuing the argument about who is doing the best/worst job in defending the orphan, let’s work together to be part of the solution to orphan care (and prevention).

 

The Poor Among Us

Photo by Keely Scott

Photo by Keely Scott

I’m not really sure how to start this post. I want to write something poetic and pure – something that will tug at your heart strings and make your pulse quicken just a bit. I want to paint an image for you that will stir your soul. I’d love to give you a word picture that will cause the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end.

I want my words to hold just enough weight that you cannot help but jump into action.

I’m simply not that good.

“Poverty is not necessarily an issue to solve; it is an opportunity to serve. As we go through each day, our heart’s cry should be, Lord, where would you have me give, serve, and invest myself to bring hope to the poor?” Johnny Carr, Orphan Justice

I read the book Orphan Justice: How to Care for Orphans Beyond Adopting in March, which to be quite honest was a terrible time to read that book. I was fighting depression and I sobbed like a tiny child through most of the book. It’s a wonderful book, though. I promise it is! I plan on reading it again now that I’m more emotionally stable.

Poverty is a wicked beast. It’s convoluted and tricky and there are no easy solutions to the problem of poverty. In Mark 14:7, Jesus Himself said that the poor would always be among us. As long as this world continues to rotate in its current state, poverty will be an issue among the people. So what do we do with that? If the poor will always be among us, then why even try to solve it?

Compassion Bloggers Tanzania

First, the fight to end extreme poverty is not entirely out of reach. In fact, great strides are being met every single year. Extreme poverty is defined by the U.N. as living on less than $1.25/day. 30 years ago, 52% of the world’s population lived in extreme poverty. Today that number is estimated at only 26%. So while the poor will always be among us, the extreme poor have much to hope for.

A year and a half ago, I walked among the extreme poor. I held their hands, clapped to their songs and learned that valuable lesson that Hope is Slow. I look back at the photos and remember those days and sometimes feel so desperately trapped inside my own comforts. I want to do more. I want to help. I want my life to be so much more than plush couches, clean clothes and an overflowing pantry.

It’s a desperate thing to feel trapped.

But the chains are loosed when I remember that today, right now, I have the ability to help two. We have added a second sponsored child to our family. A little girl named Lydy from the Philippines. A few weeks ago, we received our first letter, but the letter wasn’t from Lydy. It was from her father, and his words moved both Lee and I to tears:

“We hope and pray that the Lord will continue to prosper your family as you render your good works and reach out to people for Christ…Thank you so much and may God bless you richly!”

Image by Keely Scott

Image by Keely Scott

I know I’ve already asked you to consider giving of your resources to another ministry recently. I’m asking you again, today, to consider giving. Perhaps you would like to help fund a new minivan for Mercy House Kenya. Wonderful! No gift is too small. Ten Dollars gets them one step closer to purchasing a vehicle that will allow them to transfer the girls and babies back and for to the doctor, to church, to every day errands. What a gift it would be! 

Perhaps you’re ready for a longer commitment and you’d like to sponsor a child through Compassion International. I can speak without faltering when I say that the funds you give in child sponsorship are changing lives. They are building communities, ending hunger, helping eradicate extreme poverty. 

Perhaps you already sponsor and would like to do a little more. Please read this post that I wrote in Tanzania about the many different ways you can be involved  in Compassion International.

“Poverty is not necessarily an issue to solve; it’s an opportunity to serve.”

What a gift it is to join with a community of givers and serve. Thanks for being a part of this with me.

Leaving…on a jet plane

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I’m off to California today for a week of writing and editing, creating and imagining, laughing and crying, eating and more eating.

It’s time for our annual Creative Weekend in the hills of Northern California, but this year the adventure grows as I’m flying into San Diego to meet my dear friend Wendy (remember how I told you everyone should have a Wendy? Everyone especially needs a Wendy in California – they are the best Wendy’s.) She and I will then travel up through the state of California to the lake house that has formed the backdrop for some of my greatest creating the last few years.

It’s totally Thelma and Louise, but hopefully without the cops, dramatic angst and the driving off a cliff business.

Although if Brad Pitt wants to drop in on the trip I will not complain. No I will not.

So that’s where I’m headed today. I’ll be writing from the lake and I look forward to the quiet, uninterrupted time to simply think and process.

Compassion Bloggers Nicaragua Trip 2013

You know who else is blogging from the field today? A new team of Compassion Bloggers. They leave for Nicaragua today and they will be writing their stories all week. Please jump on over to the Compassion Bloggers site and support those writers. It’s an emotionally draining process to take one of those trips and I can tell you that comments and prayer support and encouraging words are enormously sustaining so please consider backing them up as they craft word pictures of the beauty that Compassion creates from ashes.

Have a great week, everyone!

Redirecting

Well hey there! How are you? Me? I’m good. Fine, really. Just lovely.

Distracted.

I’ve got my mind on a million other things – things I can’t share, or don’t want to share. You understand. It would probably be boring anyway.

Plus I’m recuperating from a day at SeaWorld. Remember when you were a kid and could walk for miles and be wildly overstimulated and one good night’s sleep was enough to reset everything and send you on your merry way with little to no effects?

Yeah…I’m past that point in life. It’s gonna take at least one more day and one more night’s sleep to recover.

In the meantime, I’m off to draw a winner for the BRAVE giveaway. And I’m popping in to tell you that it’s really lovely here in Florida. 70 degrees. Breezy. Just…lovely.

I’m bragging, I know. Humor me.

Also, well, if you’ve been around here for a little while you’ll remember that I had a…oh, let’s call it a life changing experience last May when I travelled with Compassion International to Tanzania and had the privilege to share all the amazing work that organization does around the world.

Another team of bloggers is in the field today with Compassion, this time in Peru. There are amazing storytellers on this trip, so I encourage you to read every word. Soak it all in and let it change you. Then I encourage you – don’t be afraid of the urgings to change a life. You won’t regret it.

The team is out in the field now and will have posts up later for you to read. In the meantime, you can keep up with them on Twitter by following the hashtag #cbperu.

And pray, friends. Pray for the folks on this team. It’s an amazing experience they are having, but it messes everything up and changes everything around inside. So pray for them as they travel and communicate and write and share and grow and change.

And pray for the children who are waiting on you and me to change their lives. Compassion does change lives. I’ve seen it, so I can tell you it’s true. Pray for those sweet, precious children and their families and for all that Compassion is doing to release children from poverty in Jesus’ Name.

Happy Tuesday, everyone. In this season of Thanksgiving, I am so truly, truly grateful and thankful for all of you.

Remember

Would you consider sponsoring a child from Compassion International today? Your small investement yields huge rewards and gives children freedom from extreme poverty and the confidence to dream.

Would you do me a favor and just take a peek at this page? Look at these children and pray for each one by name. As you pray, would you open your heart to being the one who steps out in faith and gives them a hope for a future?

It’s blogging month at Compassion International and bloggers across the internet have chosen to unite their voices to rally for hope. Extreme poverty is not the end for these children and those of us who are blessed with abundance have the opportunity to take part in miracles. Having travelled to Tanzania with Compassion just four short months ago, I feel like the words and the memories are still so fresh. The smiles and the laughter of the kids still rings in my ears.

I listed every post from my trip to Tanzania here so if you would like to learn more about how child sponsorhip can change a life, look through those posts and journey back through the dusty roads of Africa with me.

If you have any specific questions about Compassion International or how sponsorship works, feel free to ask them in the comments or to email me at kellistuart00 (at) hotmail (dot) com. Thanks, everyone!

 

Are you involved with Compassion International? How has child sponsorship impacted you?

 

All photos taken by Keely Scott

Ready, Break!

I like to call this Portrait of an iPad.

I am on technology overload this week and I’ve hit the burn out zone, which can only mean it’s time for a much needed break.

Sometimes the constant noise leaves me feeling emotional, unsure of myself and altogether irritable so I’m just going to take a few days off to collect my thoughts, get a little rest, clean that mystery stain on the couch and try to solve the issue of the ants in the bathroom.

WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM?!?!

In the meantime, I’ve seen some really amazing posts online this week. I will leave you with the words of those who are wiser than I am and will hopefully come back next week a little more rested and a little less grouchy.

Shaun’s post on why bigger crowds are less compassionate rumbled through my head all week and gave me much pause for reflection.

He also launched the new and improved Compassion Bloggers site and it’s clap your hands awesome. You should check it out!

Becke’ strung together words in the most beautiful way yesterday nearly leaving me breathless. She is ridiculously talented.

Sophie made me laugh out loud (LOL? No…) with her exciting new heights of under-acheivement.

McKayla Maroney rocked her vault leaving me a little stumped as to how on Earth the judges could have given her any less than a perfect score. Perhaps they are robots, incapable of emotion? Her post vault reaction also made me wish I could bring her home with me and put her in my pocket just so I could pull her out and have her jump up and down and say “Yay,” every time I needed a little cheering up.

Angie Smith wrote about her table and managed to make me cry in the process.

The Olympic Swimming Team’s cover of Call Me Maybe makes me so very happy. It will make you happy, too. How cute is Missy Franklin?!

That’s it for me this week. I’m off to take the kids to the park, buy some school supplies, hopefully take a nap and spend a little time just being quiet today. You know, I remember a time when the internet wasn’t around, when there weren’t 52,000 TV stations to watch and when the only thing that tweeted were birds.

Because I’m that old.

Does anyone else ever feel like they’re on sensory overload? No? Just me?

Super…

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I’m not sure if you heard or not, but I went to Africa a couple of weeks ago. I may have mentioned it a time or 500. Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed to bring it up again but just know that everything swirling inside of me has been filtered through that one experience.

See the thing is, I feel like I have a million things to write, but I can’t seem to get them out because I’m a bit scared. Petrified, really. Because who am I that anyone should care what I say? I like to hide behind the light, humorous posts in some regard because they’re safe. I spent a lot of time as a youth taking myself too seriously and I don’t want to do that anymore. I’m a blogger who actually doesn’t really like to talk about herself.

Shocking.

But there are other things than just the humorous that I want to share and I’m just so…scared. I’m scared because I don’t want it to all be about me. The fact of the matter is I don’t believe myself to be a great writer of spiritual things. I’m not a super critical thinker, I don’t have the beauty and eloquence of words that so many others hold when unpacking the mysteries of faith. I’m a good writer, yes – but writing about the God of the Universe scares the crap out of me.

See what I mean? I just used the words God and crap in the same sentence…twice. How eloquent am I?!

I mentioned these fears of mine to Shaun one evening in Tanzania and he encouraged me to read 1 Corinthians. I’ve pretty much camped out there since we returned, particularly in Chapter 2.

“And when I came to you, brethren, I did not come to you with superiority of speech or of wisdom, proclaiming to you the testimony of God. For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling and my message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God.” 1 Corinthians 2:1-5 (emphasis mine)

Friends, this is how I feel. I fear writing too in depth about my faith not because I worry about offending (though I certainly do desire this to be a place of comfort for everyone from all faiths and backgrounds and walks of life), but more because I so badly do not want to misrepresent the God I love. Does anyone else feel this way? How do you overcome it?  

There are so many words to say – so many songs to sing – so much praise to give. The Earth itself cries out to Him – why wouldn’t I?! Of course, the humorous posts are where I’ll spend more of my time because I strongly believe that one of the greatest gifts He gave us was laughter and my goodness isn’t there so much joy to be had on this Earth?

For example, Lee and I sat in bed the other night and laughed until we cried at this old gem of an Al Denson video that we found after both sporadically belting out a rousing rendition of “Be the One,” which only solidifies how terrifically dorky we are, but I fell asleep with a smile on my face and a prayer in my heart.

Lord, thank you for laughter. And thank you for cheesy ’90’s Christian music videos.

I love laughing with you guys. I love it so, so much. But I don’t want to hide behind the laughter because I’m scared. Just know that when I speak of my God, I do so with much trembling and not with persuasive words of wisdom. We will still laugh…a lot. But there are also words stirring that I will need to write at some point – all to His glory.

I just need some time to let them develop and the courage to hit publish.

PS – I don’t say any of this as a means of fishing for compliments. In fact, I feel kind of weird and I will probably sit on this post for a bit before hitting publish because I do NOT want to look like I’m asking for people to say nice things about me.

PPS – Thanks for taking the time to read this and for being a community that loves to learn and grow and laugh. I don’t really think of myself as having anything to say worth reading, but my goodness I’m glad to have you guys around. Makes this life journey a little less intimidating and a lot more fun!

PPPS – I don’t like to use emoticons in posts, but I feel like this one is begging for a smiley face – 🙂 .

Rise of the Planet of the Blue Monkeys

“Excuse me?”

I peeked up out of one eye to see her exaggerated gesture. She had a smile of complete apology on her face, and I gave her a quick nod and held up one finger politely before bowing my head to finish the prayer.

We held our packed lunches on our laps as we prayed, thanking God for a blessed week and seeking travelling mercies as we prepared to head back home. We finished the prayer and I opened the top of my lunch.

“Excuse me?” she said again and the entire group looked her way. This time her gestures were a little more wild and…insistent. She really wanted our attention.

“You should watch out for…monkeys.”

She pointed and we all turned and that’s when I saw him swinging toward us in the tree. Shaun sat on the end, next to the tree, Keely next to him and I was next to her. My first thought as he swung near was, “Oh how fun. A monkey. Yay!”

Then he screeched BONZAAAAAIIIIIII (a Tanzanian monkey issuing a Japanese battle cry? It could totally happen…) and leapt from the tree, landing on the ledge just next to Shaun and my second thought was, “OMG – HE’S GOING TO EAT MY FACE OFF! RUN!”

In my imagination, he looked just like this as he came swinging toward our table:

Image Still from Rise of the Planet of the Apes

And yeah…our monkey had his cronies in the background, too…

I’m not entirely sure how I made it out of that covered pavilion so fast. It’s all kind of a blur. There’s a chance I may have pushed someone out of my way as I fled. I also made sure I left my wide open lunch box behind for the attackers. It was my method of self-preservation.

So it was that in less time than it takes to say “Woman loses face in rare Blue Monkey attack” I was outside, jumping and shaking and laughing that trembly, “Haha, wasn’t that funny how we almost died” sort of laugh that you do when you’re trying to act cool, but you know you really look like an idiot.

Then everyone wanted to know how I got away so quick. The answer?

I flew, people. I sprouted wings and flew.

In the end, the monkeys made off with quite a spread. Banana chips, apples, chicken legs and some bread. In fact, they actually took several things directly out of people’s hands. They were brazen, these monkeys. Brazen.

They didn't even try to hide their thievery...

Sure he LOOKS cute and fluffly. But don't be fooled...

Who me?

There are a couple of lessons we can all learn from the Great Monkey Caper of 2012 and those lessons are as follows:

– First, when someone is desperately trying to get your attention, it may be to your benefit to stop praying and listen. Especially when you are in the middle of Africa with a wide open lunch box. You’d think that would be common sense, but…well, it’s not. Learn from us.

– Second, if you’re sitting next to me during a monkey attack, know that my first reaction is clearly Flight, NOT Fight, because while I would LIKE to be able to say “I got your back” if ever we’re under monkey attack, the truth is if Blue Monkeys are swinging our way shouting Japanese warrior cries I know with certainty that all I need to do is run faster than you.

Amen?

And we all say…Amen.

The normal that is

I didn’t have the chance to speak to my kids at all last week while I was gone. Really, it was for the best. It’s easier on them if I don’t call and…well, it’s easier on me.

Upon landing in Atlanta, I called my family and for the first time in eight days I heard my first born’s voice over the phone. He has always has the sweetest voice and this phone call was no exception. On the phone he is still little, the high pitched nature of his melody singing through the phone and straight to my heart. I would have cried if he hadn’t made me laugh.

“Hey Mom,” he said. “You sound different.”

“I do?” I asked. “How do I sound different?”

“Well…,” thoughtful pause, “You sound Chinese.”

Boys. No matter where you are in the world, boys know how to have a good time and make you laugh.

Scott Williams had all of us fist bumping all week long. Is there anything more universal than the fist bump?

I’m slowly reintegrating into everyday life. We started school today, much to the kid’s chagrin. We’re almost done with the year, but there’s still work to be done.

As we prepared to come home, Shaun warned us that we may experience feelings of frustration, confusion, anger and sadness. I’m so happy to report that I am apparently totally normal because I have experienced every single one of these emotions.

Every. single. one.

Prayers are coveted. For me, for my children, for all the bloggers who went on the trip. Shaun laid out some specific prayers in his post today. My poor children are, unfortunately, bearing the brunt of my emotions. I may, OR MAY NOT, have plopped a glass jar on the counter yesterday and told them they will have to pay me .25 every time they complain about something.

My nerves are a bit frayed.

 Jet lag hasn’t helped.

We will adjust to this change. It’s funny, every single thing around me is exactly the same as when I left (well, except for my house, because my mother-in-law, who is an awesome decorator, redecorated and organized my house while I was gone and Sweet Mercy it looks nice around here). But while everything looks “relatively” the same…

It all feels so different.

Even blogging.

Bear with me Pray for me as I adjust.

Oh, one more thing…

We ran out of Nutella today. THIS DOESN’T HELP THE SITUATION!

That's 12 pounds of awesome that somehow disappeared...

*sigh*

Photos of everything but Nutella by Keely Scott

The Ugly Beaver

Photo by Keely Scott

Yesterday I stood inside a beautiful building with a thousand other believers. Lights flashing, hands raised, sounds blaring, we joined together in praise of the One who created us all. The one who still works miracles. The One who has not forgotten, has not let go, has not surrendered His creation.

But worship was different for me. As we entered the sanctuary with it’s four solid walls, high, vaulted ceiling and cushioned, comfortable seats, I told Lee that I feel different. Not different in a “I want to sell all we have and live in a hut eating bananas and tangerines” sort of different, though. It’s more of a, “I’ve seen God’s power and ability to move in and through His people and I don’t ever want to lose this feeling of awe and gratitude for who He is” sort of feeling.

Then the music started and instead of singing along, I cried. Not a cute, trembly chin, single tear rolling down the cheek cry, either. It was the kind of cry where you bite your lower lip hard, shoulders trembling, BOOHOOHOO ugly cry.

Kind of like a beaver. I was ugly beaver crying in church. Thankfully the music was loud so no one could hear my blubbering. But I kind of felt sorry for the people sitting beside me. I think I shot out projectile tears that showered them completely.

The words mean something different now. I hear “How Great is Our God” with the image of a family living in squalor running through my mind. I hear lyrics like, “You take our suffering,” and “I have freedom now through You,” and they are filtered through a different context.

I don’t know what suffering is.

In the grand scheme of things, I really don’t. My perspective has shifted mightily. As we celebrated Mother’s Day, I couldn’t help thinking of the mothers around the world. The ones who love their children just as much as I do, who want great things for their babies, just like me.

Photo by Keely Scott

We aren’t that different. And yet, we are so different.

I don’t know how this trip will impact our family long term. I don’t know how it will change us as a unit or what direction it will lead us in the future. What I do know is this: The emotions of last week will fade away. With time, I will become less moved.

I won’t look like a beaver in church forever.

But the conviction behind those emotions? Oh how I long for it to remain. That’s the thing I don’t want to change – I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want it to fade with the passing of time and the continued pressure of commitments and desires.

Right now, I look a little like this:

A deer (with bloodshot eyes) caught in headlights. I woke up yesterday morning (after sleeping for eleven hours) and my first thought was, Did that really happen or was it a dream?! I feel like it went by so quickly. In the blink of an eye, eight days passed and I was a changed person filled with distant memories of sitting in a Maasai hut, helping a Tanzanian family prepare dinner and slamming Cokes with tiny Tanzanian girls.

Whaaaaat?!

I stumbled to my kitchen and had my first cup of real coffee in over a week and then my senses kicked in. It was real. I was there and for the first time in a long time, I came face to face with my Savior. He was dusty and dirty, sleeves rolled up serving and loving the least of these.

He was a mother leaving her children while it was still dark so that she could give them the food they needed to grow.

Photo by Keely Scott

He was a pastor with  a calm, gentle spirit laying out his vision and hope for a future that allowed the church to fully support and love their own community.

Photo by Keely Scott

He was a young man with an infectious grin and a heart so big for those in need that he spent his days singing and dancing with them.

Photo by Keely Scott

He was an older man, walking the dirt paths greeting everyone he passed with a grateful Praise God or Hallelujah!

Photo by Keely Scott

I went to Tanzania with the idea that I had something to offer, as though somehow I had words powerful enough to make a difference in this world. Upon returning home, however, I received an email from someone who handed me my bag out of the overhead bin on the airplane. He saw the Compassion tag and looked it up online and eventually found my blog.

He’s now interested in sponsoring a child.

See, God didn’t need to use me at all. I’m grateful and honored that He did, but He really didn’t need me. He’s got this all under control. The widows, the children, the hungry and sick. He hasn’t lost control. He was in Tanzania long before I got there.

*cue ugly beaver tears*

Sponsor-Compassion-International-Tanzania-500x70

Click the above photo to sponsor a child from Tanzania, or click this link here. You can also check in with the other bloggers here. I promise I won’t talk about my experience in Tanzania forever, but as I slowly begin to process a few emotions, I may mention it a bit more. Thanks for reading along and taking this journey with me…