Life Unexpected

It was the night before we were ready to leave for Ethiopia that it dawned on me. We hadn’t given the necklace to Biruk yet. When we had exchanged necklaces with his birth mom ten years prior at the orphanage, we had no idea when we would give it to him. We just knew that we wanted him to be old enough to appreciate it, as it would be the only thing he would have from her. We had no idea if we would ever see her again.  There have been several moments in our journey where I’ve had to pinch myself, because it has felt like I was dreaming. That night as we put our final things in our suitcases, took a deep breath, and came to the realization that we were not only taking our kids to Ethiopia, but that Biruk would in fact meet his birth mom…well, you had to pinch me, because it felt like I was dreaming. It also felt like the perfect moment to share this gift that we had been holding onto for 10 years. So we pulled out the necklace and gave it to Biruk. While words can be few and far

When I was in Seminary, I went on my first Mission Trip to a third world country. I was just two years into my marriage, a young 23 years of age, and I had no idea how the experience would change me. My Dad happened to be taking a team from his church to the Dominican Republic and I needed a cross cultural experience for a class I was taking, so it seemed like a perfect match. That trip not only changed my life, but created this passion to serve in third world countries and was the launching pad for all the mission trips I would get to lead at the churches I was a youth pastor at. By the time I was I reached 40, I had taken 2 more trips to the Dominican Republic, a trip to Costa Rica, a trip to Guatemala, a trip to Africa, and of course 25+ trips to Honduras.  There is something about being in a third world country that feels like home to me. I know that sounds strange, but I have often found myself saying, “I’m my best self here.” They are places that breathe fresh life into me,

When you dream about something and talk about it for quite some time, you often find yourself planning out the details in your mind, envisioning what it will look like, and creating this perfect scenario. It’s kind of like when you start dreaming about your wedding day and find yourself creating the perfect Pinterest board, combing through magazines and stuffing a binder full of your ideas. You know what you want. You have a plan. The expectations have been set. You would think that the same would be true about the trip to Ethiopia we promised to our son when he turned 10, after all, we had been talking about it for years.  When it became a reality that we were actually going, which happened in May when we paid $4000 in airfare, it sunk in that we really didn’t have a plan. All we knew was that in less than 4 months we were going to board a plane to a third world country with an 8 and 10 year old. That in itself was a little overwhelming. However, what we’ve come to stake our l

Yesterday, my family and I found ourselves at a local elementary school’s culture club, presenting about our trip to Ethiopia. Even as I write those words, it kind of blows my mind how God has continued to use our story in unexpected places. When the kids were old enough to understand, we began to talk about taking them back to their birth country when they turned 10. We figured at 10, they would be old enough to be pretty good travelers, but still approach the adventure with a childlike wonder. What we didn’t plan on, was that the year Biruk turned 10 would come on the heels of me taking a brand new job, our family moving to a new state, and buying our very first house, in an economy that felt as though it was tanking!  I remember talking to my counselor one day and sharing with him that while we had always promised this trip to our kids, it just didn’t seem to make financial sense. After all, last time I checked, Southwest Airlines does not travel to Africa. He said something

I remember the day like it was yesterday. We had just sat through a goodbye ceremony that included cake, popcorn, soda and coffee, all of which were used for special occasions. We had spent the last hour watching the faces of about 20 little ones, ranging from the ages of 2-14, singing their hearts out, as we held back the tears. Next to us was the little baby boy whom we had just adopted, a mere 8 months old, being held by his birth mother, a mother who had made the difficult decision to give him up for adoption. There are moments in life where words are just inadequate and this was one of them. As a couple who had experienced a long journey of infertility and was now about to embark on parenthood for the first time, we couldn’t help but feel all the feels. There were no words. Minutes later, we would find ourselves walking out to the van, holding the most beautiful baby boy, and at the same time walking alongside a mom whose grief was so tangible you could touch it. Once again,