Have You Ever Used Someone to Get What You Wanted?

There is a baby that we buy formula and medicine for.
Some people have said we are being used.
May they are just jealous.
Or maybe we are being used.

Does it matter?

Yes, I think as I lay in my bed unable to sleep. How could she.

And then God ever so gently knocks me off my high horse with two simple questions.
"Maureen, have you ever used someone to get what you wanted?"
"Have you ever manipulated a situation to get what you needed?"
I am silent.


Then I hear Him say, "Whose money do you use to buy the formula?
And what if the mother in the cornstalk house with no money IS using you for formula and medicine?
Does it matter?
Is the baby getting healthier?
Does visiting her give you an opportunity to talk about Me?"

In Christ, I surrender my rights.

And as soon as I think I know what someone needs, outside of Jesus, I am the one in need.
As soon as I get to choose who I serve and who I don't serve, I am no longer serving.
As soon as I think I have something to offer, I have nothing.

So, I hope she is using me for all that Jesus can give her and I hope I never stop giving her Jesus.

Birthday Celebrations

I love birthdays.
And since I found out that Fernando's family had never celebrated any of their birthdays, I have made it my mission to help them celebrate.
On Monday we celebrated Isma turning 14.

She is growing into the sweetest young lady.

She wanted Pollo Campero for lunch.

Emily made her cake.

There were plenty of people around to help celebrate. 

Afterwards we washed the dishes in the pilla.

And my favorite part of this whole birthday crusade of mine is little Engli's response. Her mom, Rubidia,  said last week when their neighbor had a birthday with no party or fanfare, Engli told her, "Don't feel sad, I'll tell Maureen it is your birthday, she LOVES to celebrate them!"

Deby and Engli

A Mother's Heart

I had a "mom"moment yesterday.

We went to visit a family unannounced and when we got their Sergio was on his bed sobbing, his face soaking wet. When I asked what was wrong, his mom and sisters were quick to tell me that he cannot be in the Independence Day Parade with his school band because they don't have the money for the quite expensive uniform, and he was heart broken.

I had just gotten done having a conversation with someone about how living in a very poor family is not the child's fault, and yet they are often the ones who suffer most.

I asked him what he played and he told me the drums.
I asked him how much the uniform cost and he told me.
And then I leapt with my heart and not my head and said that I wanted to pay for his uniform.

I do not tell you this to brag, in fact some of you may realize how this might not have been the smartest move. But my "mom" heart was breaking. I told him that I thought God heard his tears and cared for what was important to him and that I wanted him to know the uniform was not a gift from me but from God. I told him God sees him and cares for him and cares about what is important to him.

By the time we left he was smiling and drumming on every surface in the house.  And, well, he may not be the best drummer in the world, but at that moment he sure was the happiest.