are we there yet?

Time to Hit the Road!

2011-12-19T04:22:00.000-08:00

Have you ever sat by your phone and simply waited for it to ring? I mean seriously. Staring so much that your eyes glaze over and your phone ceases to be one and morphs into a blurry mess of many.

But you have no idea if someone is going to call you.

So do you sit by your phone and wait? Or am I alone in this one?

Well, the other day my phone rang.

And when I saw the name come up I could have sworn I was being bum dialed (this happens a lot because I'm typically at the top or close to the top of contact lists).

But I answered the phone - because I thought, "Opportunity!"

And I am so thankful.

Monday I answered my phone and the voice on the other end was that of the choir manager for ACC. And he said these words,

"Hi Amy. Would you like to come on tour in January for the Young Africans?"

Ha. Seriously, I know. God's timing is perfect.

I said yes. Thursday it became official. One again I will be called Auntie Amy on a daily basis. My heart races every time I think about it.

I'm am thrilled to be a part of such an incredible tour - you see this one is going to be quite different than Choir 35. These "children" are between seventeen and twenty-one and were all a part of the choir when they were actually children. They are coming to show America what happens to those adorable little people in the African Children's Choir - the education and hope that Music for Life advertises - it's for the truth. And coming back to America are fourteen youth ready and excited to share what God has done in their lives through those who have supported the choir over the past twenty-seven years. Lives are being changed - and we get to see it.

And I get to be their Auntie.

Honored, humbled, excited, and completely in awe of how faithful God is - to me, and to them.

Here we go!

*Throughout the tour (approximately 4-6 months) I will be sending update letters in the mail. If you would like to receive these exciting and lovely, colorful updates, please email your address to me at: amy.haiti@gmail.com.

"We used to go to church, but then they started using the Bible SO MUCH."

2011-09-18T11:27:00.000-07:00

This past week someone asked me, "Were you the one up there singing last Sunday?" And so I said yes, that was me. And he said, "Ahh, yeah, I thought so. You know we haven't come to church a lot lately, last week was the first time in about 8 months." And I answered, "Oh yeah?" Then came the answer that made me so proud of my church:

"We used to go a lot. Back when they did more sketches and they didn't use the Bible so much. But now, it's just not the same. Bible, Bible, Bible."

And a great big high-five to every single staff member at Crosswinds.

Church should be that way. It should use the Bible. "Bible, Bible, Bible." That's the point. Learning about it and being challenged by it and worshipping the God that wrote it all. Together, one big giant family.

I encouraged the person that told me this to keep coming back to church. I said the Bible is good, it should be used so much - and he said hesitantly, "yeah..."

Dear Crosswinds, kudos to a job well done.

the emotions of fall

2011-09-06T16:09:00.000-07:00

I think about my children every day.

No, forget that.

Every hour. My beautiful African babies that I was so blessed to spend 16 months with on the road. I miss them terribly, and I have an extremely hard time accepting that it has been nine months since I have seen them. Time flies by in ways I'm just not willing to accept. Soon it will be one year since tour. How does that even happen?

December 6, 2010 we North American Aunties and Uncle stood in the DC airport waving at the top of the escalator as our children disappeared out of sight, and we stood there. Helpless. Tears flowing, hearts full from our time together but completely empty as our precious babies were now on their way back to Africa. It was cold outside - freezing actually. I remember walking around downtown DC in my ginormous Kermit the Frog coat, enjoying every last moment I had with the Aunties before we too parted ways.

December 6 was easily the single hardest day I've experienced.... maybe ever.

But the days leading up to it, the months, they were beautiful. Wonderful.

Fall, 2010. It was the best.

We had finally hit a true groove in our tour. Our relationships with the children and with each other had progressed from the initial 'get to know' you to friendship and finally... family. Truth.

In September we enjoyed the true beauty of Alaska. Glaciers, mountains, dolphins, whales, moose, eagles, bears, salmon, the works. We spent endless hours on multiple ferries, going from stop to stop along the Alaskan islands. Lovely. Those were some of my best places on all of tour. Adult and child both standing in awe of incredible mountains of ice and agreeing that yes, it does look like whipping cream.

October: the insane trek from Ketchikan, Alaska, to New York City that we made in approximately two weeks. Ha, who does that? Why, we, Choir 35 do that. And for as crazy as it was, it was wonderful, and the stops along the way were fantastic as we were blessed with incredible churches and hosties. Maybe because they were towards the end, maybe because they really were fantastic - but I remember those stops on that journey the most. I even had one host family in Wisconsin that had carved a dead tree in their front yard into a giraffe. And it was beautiful. And they were awesome.

Coming to Canandaigua. The brisk Fall air welcoming me home with my children and fellow chaps in a wonderful opportunity to share the past year of my life with my home. Ahhh... lovely.

November, the return of our OPUS shows and more crazy insane bus rides. In November alone we were in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas and Tennessee, and back to North Carolina for Thanksgiving. But the busyness of the schedule and the love for OPUS that I think we all shared made for one of the best months yet - closing for us what was a fantastic season.

Fall.

And so now, on this crisp, breezy day, memories of last Fall come rushing back to me and my heart... it hurts. I miss my children. I miss the Aunties and Uncles. I miss those days we spent at Mirembe House playing games and watching movies and baking and reading books and taking walks. I can't believe that so much time has passed. I am thankful for the time we had, and all those little things I forgot about that I'm now reminded of as the seasons change.

It's a new year, a new day.

And I will always miss ACC35.

Why Haiti?

2011-08-26T15:11:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the boys I nanny ask me questions like,

"Miss Amy, why are the leaves on the trees green?"

And because I'm not a scientist nor do I even remember enough of what I learned in school to describe for them the process of what it is exactly that makes them green, my answer is simply,

"Because God chose for them to be green."

And of course, the question that piggybacks my answer comes from their little mouths,

"Why did he choose green?"

And so my response is then,

"He just did."

He just did.

When I came back from Haiti in 2009, I was certain I'd never go back. To me, Haiti was a good experience. I certainly learned a lot; and I shared those things and was thankful for them. But that island was a lonely, dirty, lonely, lonely place and I simply had no desire to go back. Then I toured with the African Children's Choir. But Haiti, my already visited Nineveh if you will, got stuck in my head.

Surrounded by my precious babies on Choir 35, my heart longed to hold Mary Therese too. I thought I was crazy - internally at least. Yes, to return and be with my dear Haitian girl. For her, yes. But Haiti? I thought that chapter of my life was over.

Really?

Since I've been home especially, many have asked me the simple question, "Why Haiti?" and knowing the answer secretly inside but not feeling as though it were adequate, my answer was a lame "just because" or even "I'm not sure." Truth is, Haiti: because I'm not done there yet. God has more to teach me on that island. Through those people. There are still thousands who are suffering, and God can use me to do something about it, bit by bit by bit. He has called me to go back and finish what he started with me there in 2008.

Why did God choose for the trees to be green? He just did.

Why did God call me there? He just did.

And right now, it's simply not over yet.

That's why.

in the storm

2011-08-25T16:13:00.000-07:00

I was dreaming about a puppy.

Actually. And it was a tiny, adorable chocolate lab that my dad had brought home after work. We named it Yukon Cornelius, even though it wasn't a Golden Retriever (the true plan in the Thompson house right now in our search for a new dog). Little chocolate lab Yukon was sitting on my lap and I was trying to get the Wii to work, and in a strange combination of the past day's events, Steve Job's resignation altered our Wii's ability to function properly and so I hopped into my little electric motor Jeep, Yukon in tow, and away we went to fix the Wii. But the battery was dying on my "car" so I had to stop at the charging station, but again, Steve Job's resignation altered the charging station's ability to properly charge my toy Jeep's battery, so I went to plug it in again and

BOOM.

My eyes opened and the strobe-lit sky filled my room with the white glow of lightening in fast, must-squint-to-see bursts. There was no echo of thunder, for the storm was directly over us and the thunder and lightening fought for attention as they boomed and flashed together over and over and over again.

I saw out my northern window a bolt of lightening, big and bright as ever, go right down to the ground in the field next to our house. Okay God, that's pretty incredible - but truth is, that's a bit close to the house, and I'd really like to not die right now. I wasn't "afraid" - but certainly filled with a healthy fear and respect for the power God has put in the sky.

And it got me thinking - wow. Powerful. Mighty. Loud. Bright. Wet. Refreshing. Terrifying. Dangerous. Necessary. And this was just one storm, in the midst of all God's Creation - so powerful. God was flexing his muscles in the middle of the night to not-so-subtly remind me that He is in control. And so with a healthy fear of the storm and a respectful fear of my God, I sat at my window and let His peace wash over me like the rain on the earth outside.

The words of a song I hear on the radio all the time spoke to me yesterday on the way home from work, but like the words of Shepherd clicking with Reagan at the end of tour, these words finally resounded in my heart:

"Be strong in the Lord, never give up hope. You're going to do great things, I already know! God's got His hand on you so don't live life in fear. Forgive and forget, but don't forget why you're here! Take this time and pray, and thank God for each day."

Ahhh. God is in control. There are desires that He has placed in my heart - and they are growing, developing, my heart is heavy with a longing to be back overseas working with the orphaned and abandoned. I would get on a plane today if I could. But I'm not ready yet. This is the time where I take this time and pray, and thank God for each day. God is powerful. He is in the storm. God ordained the storm to water the earth, to water my soul. He is taking this time in my life to prepare me for what He has planned. He's in control - so here, in Him, I will wait.

"Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, and my ways are not your ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty; but it shall accomplish that which I purpose; and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills before you will break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall make a name for the Lord, an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off." Isaiah 55:6-13

Content

2011-05-16T12:37:00.000-07:00

Content.

Read that word again.

Do it. Look up, and read it again.

How did you pronounce it? What meaning does it hold for you right now, in this moment? Content or content?

Interesting, eh? How those words are the same, yet, not.

Question: Are you content with the contents of your life, right now?

Hmm. I dream a lot. I don't mean daydream of things to be or what I want/wish for, I mean I dream, a lot. Most of the time it's foolish nonsense like oodles of sawdust coming out of my mouth, flying frogs living in the tree house, or how I've become a world-renown baker because of my amazing chocolate cake.

But lately, I've been dreaming about other places. Places I've been before - Asia, Haiti, Tour. I'm talking obscene amounts of dreams about other places. I regularly wake up wondering where I am - not an uncommon thing for me, since on tour I rarely knew where I was at any given moment of the day, let alone when I woke up. But these dreams are so real, I feel so much like I'm in this other place... and when I realize I'm just at home I find myself disappointed. Then I ask myself,

"Am I content?"

Truthfully, I don't even know.

Four nights ago I dreamt I was in Asia. Once again visiting Missy & Carly, taking part in their daily tasks, joining in on the ministry and loving every second I got to participate in the work that they are doing. We walked through the burned out section of town, talked with a few locals, I went to Russian with Carly, and went to another M's house for church. When I woke up, I was lonely.

Three nights ago I dreamt that I was on tour again. I was with our beautiful children of ACC 35, geared up for a concert in Colorado. Together we had devotions, freaked out because one of the costume bags was missing (which wasn't uncommon in real life), and I made a concert order with Uncle Tony. We then walked in our two concert lines to the sanctuary where hundreds of people had gathered to enjoy the beauty that is Choir 35. When I woke up I cried - because it wasn't real.

Two nights ago I dreamt that the compound in Haiti where I lived was trying to integrate itself more into the town around it, and so they were selling the missionary houses, opening up the gates all the time, and putting in another community garden. I had gone down with Missy to purchase the house I had lived in before, so that I could join in on the projects. I walked around the house and found myself thinking back on the days when I called that place home - and was so peaceful knowing that I'd call it home again. When I woke up I was sad. What a lame adjective - but for the truth. I was so sad. I want to be there again.

Often I look around at the people here and I wonder how they don't get bored. People that have done the same thing every day for years. Even my dad just celebrated his 25th year at his work. It's incredible - really, that doesn't happen very often. But I can't imagine. It's just not for me.

With all the struggles I endured in Haiti (you won't find them here, but ask me if you like) I thought I learned a piece of what it meant to be content. In my own words:

It's times like these when the verse, "Be still and know that I am God" are what you need to hear the most, but want to hear the least. One of the biggest lessons I learned during my six months in Haiti was to be content. Content with what I'm doing, with what I'm not doing, with where I am, with where I am not. I spent a lot of time in my house while I lived in on that island: and was it in vain? Certainly not. God taught me more in those early morning hours, as the sun peeked through the palm trees behind my house and into my living room where I sat and read my Bible with a lovely cup of coffee. The warm Caribbean sun in its orange glowing beauty poking through the slats in my windows; God beginning yet another day with his warm breath gently blowing my curtains, whispering to me, "I have a plan... just you wait."

Pfft. It's awfully poetic as I read it now, but honestly. I'm not done learning that lesson, and I probably won't ever be. I do know, however, that I'm more "content" when I'm overseas. Missy has often said, "If I lived in the states, I'd be miserable." It's not what she's made for. Built for. She thrives, and I mean THRIVES when she's overseas. Asia. Where she is now. Thrives. That's not to extinguish a desire to be "home" - with family, friends, in a "world" where people speak your language, you can buy fruits and veggies at the store even when they aren't in season, and where you can worship freely. But it's just not where God has called her to be. No sense pulling a Jonah and spending three days in a whale. Gross.

I'm finding myself more and more realizing that desire and calling God has placed on me to be overseas. And I know that it's not time to go yet. And that, my friends, is paining me. I'm struggling to be content in a place I don't ultimately want to be. I'm learning how to be content in the waiting.

Content with the contents of life, right here, right now.

"Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord, we will wait upon the Lord, we will wait upon the Lord..."

Asia with Missy:

ACC 35

Haiti, with my Advanced English Class

You know if you...

2011-05-03T12:31:00.000-07:00

... live in NY when there are only two seasons: winter & road construction.

You hate those lists too, eh? They drive me crazy. Mostly because they all list the same things, but are about a different thing. Winter & road construction: True of just about any location north of 38º? Exactly.

However, in my re-entry, I've thought, "I'm clazy. Nobody here understands."

So I'm pulling the hypocrite card here and making my own, "You know if you've traveled with the ACC if..." list. For us Aunties & Uncles out there, you know what it's like. Now is when you nod in agreement.

Ready? Alright.

You know if you've traveled with the ACC if:
1. Long calls and short calls have nothing to do with the phone.
2. "Countdown!" may be any assemblage of numbers 1-23, give or take a few, on any given day.
3. You went to Vegas with your own poker chips, except you're cool, so you call them tokens. You even signed them yourself - and they were used, and they were worth something.
4. You start many sentences with the word "Even."
5. "Bag checks" are not verbs, they are nouns. Running, skipping, singing, dancing, lovely wonderful nouns.
6. You have shaken your cabina in praise to the Lord.
7. You know what a cabina is.
8. When you are asked, "Auntier may you pray with me?" you go find a game.
9. You don't go shopping for khakis, you go shopping for travel pants.
10. You can hold your susu for exactly two hours, as scheduled.
11. You have slept in a luxurious bed, on a leaky air-mattress, a couch, a cot, a bus seat, a pew, & the floor, in one week.
12. You have sung and danced to the same songs every day & night for 16 months straight, and you still love them, somehow.
13. You were completely lost the first week you went without a minute-by-minute schedule handed to you on Monday.
14. You had 23 children at age 23.
15. You want to go to Africa. Every day. Want to go to Africa. Want to go... to Africa...
16. Your current "address" has been two simple characters: V1, V2, V3, or V4.
17. When asked, "Where are you?" the only answer you can give with confidence is "V1," "V2," "V3," or "V4." And if you've recently switched, sometimes even that you don't know.
18. You have translated English to... English.
19. You have been greeted in the morning by dozens of warm, joyful hugs and asked, "Are you fine?"
20. You were blessed, challenged, and loved, daily, by a beautiful group of little African children - and they meant, and mean, the world to you.

Yes?

cause for celebration

2011-05-02T11:19:00.000-07:00

This life is temporary.

What's that? You knew? You mean, you were previously aware that the fountain of youth doesn't truly exist?

Well, phew. Glad you're in the loop.

So then, death. How's that one go? Permanent, you say? (Insert loud, annoying buzzer to indicate that you are wrong. No money for you, no prize, Vana isn't going to wave her dainty manicured hands in front of a new RV that is soon to be yours.)

Media, phone calls, Facebook statuses, you name it. It hasn't been twenty-four hours yet, and the world is talking about the death of one man. When was the last time that happened? Hopefully you say, "Last weekend!" But for the truth. Probably not since Saddam was killed on December 30, 2006 (and yes, that is my birthday). I hear tell of people in New York dancing in the streets, newspapers claiming victory, a time of celebration.

I must ask though, what events must occur for your celebration meter hit a high ten? When someone diagnosed with cancer is healed, is the meter going up? When you get a new car, are the numbers high? When your friends get married, dial pointing to the right? When one starving child receives food to sustain them, is it a ten? Chances are, no. You may think yes - and go ahead. Argue with me. Sure. Do it. But you know the truth. Because those things, like it or not, are not permanent. You know it's possible when someone is declared cancer free, that it may come back. Your new car isn't going to last forever. You know that the divorce rate is higher than ever. You know that a starving child who receives food will likely be hungry again. Your meter is probably higher than normal, but I'm guessing only an eight or nine. Those things aren't always permanent, and you know it.

But death.

Surely, that's it. The Osama Bin Laden problem is solved simply because he is dead. Over. Fini. The End.

Was evil defeated? Was justice served? Why yes, yes it was. Two-thousand years ago.

Now, I'm at a high ten.

Bin Laden wreaked havoc on our country, our people, our families, and now he is dead. Are we so confident to celebrate, thinking that another will not rise in his absence? Last night a man faced judgement greater than any other. Heaven? Hell? You don't know. You cannot deny that Osama Bin Laden may be in heaven right now. You don't know what happened in those last hours, minutes, even seconds before his death. Jesus uses dreams and visions in the Islamic world in powerful ways, often called hallucinations over here in the West. We can be so pathetically scientific.

And if he is in Hell, dare we celebrate at the face of a man now suffering eternal damnation? Sick.

Is it possible to pray for the soul of a man to be saved - quickly - before the troops we're also praying for shoot him dead? Was Jesus kidding when he said, "Love your enemies, and pray for those that persecute you"? Did Solomon have a momentary lapse in wisdom when he wrote, "Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, and let not your heart be glad when he stumbles"? (Luke 6:27, Proverbs 24:17) I agree with the criminal justice system. I believe it is God's place to judge. I believe justice must be served. I believe forgiveness is required. I believe there is a time for peace and a time for war.

This, friends, is not the end. For us, for them, for him.

So will I celebrate?

Christ defeated death. Through him there is eternal life in Heaven.

How about we celebrate that.

around the world and back again...

2011-02-20T10:01:00.000-08:00

And now I have culture shock.

ish?

Dear Peter Jordan, would you consider revising your Re-Entry book so as to include a chapter called "How to Talk to People You Might See Again"?

That's right, I've completely lost my ability to talk normally with those that I could potentially see on a regular basis. Tour life has conditioned my social skills in such a way that I've become excellent at talking to those whom I know I will never see again. Why? Because I don't have to remember what they say. Call me shallow? Okay. But I challenge you to stay in a different stranger's house almost every night for sixteen months and remember everything you hear. Ooooooo.

Now, quickly, if you're looking back on my last post and wondering what has happened to me in the past few months since my children went home... know that I miss them and the team more than I'd miss my toes if you cut them all off. There's a reason I didn't "blah-g" about it... okay? Okay.

But now that I'm home for good (mini-jaunt to Asia for a month post-tour was lovely but totally postponed my "re-entry" period), I feel like a fish out of water, or better yet, that bird from Rudolf that swims: I'm most comfortable/I belong on the island of misfit toys and yet Santa has taken me away to live in the real world! I'm completely lost in my own town.

So if you've talked to me in the past week or so, the conversation may have gone something like this:

You: "Amy! Hi! Are you back now?"

Me: "Hi. Yep, I'm home, this isn't a hologram."

You: (awkward laugh) "Well it's good to have you back."

Me: "Yep, good to be home.... "

You: (feeling a bit awkward due to the lack of normal conversation, you're probably wondering why I'm not asking you how you've been etc., but truth be told I'm probably so antsy in my fear of what you'll ask/say that it hasn't come to mind to ask you anything, let alone how you are) "Ooooh-kaaay... Well have a great day!"

Me: "yep, you too, k bye!"

----OR----

You: "Amy! Hi! Are you back now?"

Me: "Hi! I am back! So how long have you been around here?"

You: "Um... well I've been here since 1823..."

Me: "Oh good, good, so is your family around here too?"

You: "Um... my kids..."

Me: "That must be nice to have them close. How old are they?"

You: "Amy? Amy? Are you okay, Amy? You've known me since you were 5, Amy? Earth to Amy?"

Me: (run.)

Observations?

From the first:

1. I probably forgot your name. OR, I never knew you and you just saw my name/face somewhere and are kind and brave enough to come talk to me and welcome me home. Either way, I salute you. I apologize for my memory failures/lack of social courage.

2. If I forgot your name, or if I never knew you, I probably feel like at some point I knew your name and you, but, I've forgotten, therefore I'm afraid to ask questions that I may or may not be expected to know the answer to, and am therefore afraid that I'll offend you by exposing the fact that I actually know nothing about you.

3. I get really excited when I'm uncomfortable in a conversation and it ends. Don't be offended, please, Oscar the Grouch was less grouchy when he said goodbye, and it was nothing personal, it was just him.

From the second:

1. I've reverted into tour-mode.

2. You may wonder if I'm really listening to you. Rest assured, I'm listening. The conversation may have gone on for a while with me asking great questions. I am definitely listening. I may even say a prayer for you before I go to bed, I may remember some profound truth from the conversation and write it down. No doubt about it, I'm listening.

3. Tomorrow, or perhaps the day after, I may not know you from Adam (or Eve).

So note: I believe I'm experiencing culture shock in an incredibly odd way. Please don't hold it against me that I might be awkward or rude or even stand-off-ish. I'm working up the courage to come and say hello to you, but I'm like the Cowardly Lion and I haven't quite reached the Wizard for my courage. I'll get there, the yellow brick road can't go on forever.

(Side note: If you know who I am but you know I don't know who you are, please, I beg you, pretend like you don't know who I am, or you'll just slow this whole re-entry process down and I'll probably pretend my phone is ringing or I'll suddenly really have to go somewhere or something will happen to get out of the conversation. Just so you know.)

ouch, my heart.

2010-12-04T09:32:00.000-08:00

I successfully woke up at 4:58 this morning. I went to the boys room to greet, and went up the stairs wondering, "How? How does this go? How many times can I hug them before they actually have to get in the car?" Haha. Several hugs from ALL the boys and about 6 hugs from Jonah and Reagan later, the two piled into the car and I got in the driver's seat and said, "Who's ready to go to New York!" Jonah shouted out, "ME!" I wish. I stepped out and waved goodbye with tears in my eyes, as the rest of the chaps and I watched Uncle Craig pull away to the airport with two huge pieces of our hearts. Stacy and I then got in the van to start a mad shopping trip to fill all the holes in the children's suitcases. The combination of over exhaustion and being emotionally drained led to some very hilarious situations, for example... I laughed so hard I cried when Stacy didn't think Target was open because the lights on the sign weren't on. The sign doesn't have lights, and upon this realization, we spent 4 or 5 minutes sitting in the car laughing so hard I had to use two napkins from my bagel to wipe away my tears and blow my nose. We then walked in and noticed the phone books sitting next to the automatic doors, so we delivered them along to Customer Service. We also chatted it up with a man from the UK in front of the un-open Payless across from Panera. I asked him if he wanted to make the store clerk feel pressured to open up early with us as we stared in the windows, he just said that the store here wasn't as good as the parent store in the UK. Maybe that meant no?

All in all we had a successful shopping morning and the children are fully equipped to go home. Their bags are almost all packed, their things are getting in order, God is preparing all our hearts for the days to come. We can do it. We have been blessed with these children: to teach them and train them and love them so that they can go back to Africa and do the same to others.

Stacy also told me that the reason the pages in the book from last night were missing:

Some of the boys wanted to write Jonah and Reagan notes before they left. And they didn't have paper, but they had a Madagascar book.

I love our kids.

the end has come

2010-12-03T22:05:00.001-08:00

The night should be over.

I should have been in bed hours ago.

I shouldn't be writing this right now.

I'm getting up in 4 hours to say goodbye to two of my children. And yet, it's like I can't go to bed. I sort of figure... that at this hour, if I sleep for more than 4, I'm going to get further into a rem cycle and it's going to be harder for me to wake up. It might however, be hard for me to fall asleep... as I've been sick lately and Nyquil makes the night so peaceful :) But I actually want to wake up to see the boys off in the morning.

I don't know how to say goodbye. I'm 24 years old and I'm about to experience an "empty nest" as I learn to adjust how to live without children that weren't mine in the first place. My face is stained with tears from this morning that I've been too busy to wash off. The house is a mess, there's a cake sitting out on the counter uncovered and the ant/fly problem in this house will automatically deem the ginormous platter of chocolaty sugar inedible by morning. It's okay though - we wouldn't have eaten it anyway. Just like the cake I made the other day... when I made two cakes instead of one. What was I thinking? And why do we use cake to celebrate? Fireworks are so much better. And how many people actually like cake? If it doesn't come with ice cream, why bother? And the ice cream just makes it soggy. But this is not about cake.

Tonight I went up to the boys room to say goodnight and I found myself climbing on the top bunk with 6 of the boys to read a "Madagascar" story book that at least three of the pages were ripped out of. The story made almost no sense, and it was part of a little kids mini series, so it didn't even end: the story just kind of.... stopped. It'd be like the story of the three little pigs, and the book ended on "He huffed and he puffed and he blew the." House down? What? No. The End. But the boys and I were nestled all in as I read the book, and I loved every second of it. Come Monday night, I won't get to read with them anymore. I won't get to climb onto the top bunk and be surrounded by six of the boys as I read a book that doesn't make sense. I don't know how to handle that.

I think about home and I am so excited to get there. I'm excited to sleep in my own bed. I'm excited to throw/give a ton of my stuff away (living out of a carry-on size piece of luggage has been lovely, and though I wish I had thought about the color selection a little more [almost all black....] ... simplicity is lovely.) I'm excited for Christmas at home. For freedom to do what I want when I want. Bathroom stops are no longer scheduled. Woah.

We are all ready to go home: but that doesn't mean it's easy. Aslan, it makes me think of Aslan. Is He safe? No, but He's good. Is it easy? No, but it's good.

Lord, give us the strength to get through these next few days. Help us persevere. Help us be strong examples for these little children we love so much, in our times of weakness see us through. Thank you for what you have given us. Thank you for Choir 35.

How many more?

2010-11-18T20:31:00.000-08:00

Our tour has been incredible. It has been difficult. It has been filled with laughter, tears, pictures, "I love you Auntie" notes, and incredible growth.

Today I've been thinking about how this tour is so quickly coming to a close. We arrived here at Mirembe House on Tuesday - and counted joyously the high number of twenty days we had here together. How can it be only seventeen already?

Today Charity came to me and put her head in my lap and said, "Auntie, may you help me to remove from my hair the grass?" And as I picked the bits and pieces out of her hair I thought, "Often I feel like the mother monkey, if only I ate the stuff I picked..." Today I thought, "How many more times do I get to do this?"

Grace, my dear little Grace, has drawn me beautiful pictures two days in a row. On most days, her words are fairly harsh, and even in her playful laughter she tries her best to put on a tough tone. She's actually quite hilarious and very fun. She becomes the most tender, dear little girl when she secretly draws these pictures and does her best to get it to you - through others. Yesterday one of the other girls gave it to me. Today Harriet brought it to me. Both are covered in flowers and hearts and say "Auntie Amy" in giant letters, and "Grace" in tiny letters beneath. Give the girl a crayon and some paper and the rough exterior melts away and she's just a sweetie. How many more pictures will I get from her?

Brian, in devotions tonight, sat back with Stacy and I and did everything in his power to be close to us. He rested his head on Stacy's shoulder and picked up my foot and put it on his, played with my toes, was just close. Stacy and I both thought, "Brian? This is Brian? A bit odd for Brian... Brian?" But as he examined my toe-nail polish I thought, "Moments like this, they are special... and Brian, yes Brian, in all his rough and tough boy-ness knows that moments like this are special. And he's soaking them in." How many more of these moments will I have?

A few weeks ago the "Remember when's..." started flowing from our mouthes. "Remember when we convinced the children that salad was the greatest thing ever?" "Remember when we had to use a school bus to go to the 25th Anniversary Gala?" "Remember when we stayed in Uncle Gym?" "Remember when we spent an hour singing worship songs in the hall?" Often these are received with an, "Oh yeah!" from another and as we reminisce over the past 15 months on tour I am reminded of how thankful I am to have been on the road with these children and this team of chaperones. I know that it is all a part of God's plan, and the things that we've experienced over the tour have brought us to this time. Our beginning on tour was created so that the end could be even better. These children were brought to America so that they could go back to Africa. We have loved them, taught them, grown with them, disciplined them, tucked them in at night, prayed with them, sang with them, played countless games of Skip-Bo, Soccer, & matching game with them, driven across the continent with them, believed in them, and in a couple short weeks we will put them on a plane and pray that as they transition back into life in Africa the impact we have had on them will stay strong as they grow older. We pray that as they think back on their time in America, they will see God's hand stretched out over their lives and continually follow Him in all they do.

Time is coming to a close here, goodbyes are on their way. But it is good. We have been blessed to know one another. I have been blessed to be on Choir 35.

the beauty of names

2010-11-12T19:28:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I find it completely fascinating to find out what names mean. In Choir 35 we have always known that Stella means "star" - and until recently, I didn't know what the other names meant. So I googled them... ah, dear Google.

So here we go, all of Choir 35:

John: God is gracious

Benson: Son of Benedict

Rogers: Warrior

Jonah: Dove

Reagan: Little King

Brian: Noble, strong, victorious

Derrick: Ruler of the people (Derrick has wanted to be a president for almost all of tour!)

Alex: Defender/Defending men

James: Supplanter

Charity: Love, generous

Brenda: Sword

Ruth: Friend, compassionate

Grace: Good will

Ritah: Pearl

Priscillah: Ancient

Faith: Confidence, belief

Stella: Star

Esther: Star

Deborah: A bee

Naomi: Beautiful, pleasant, delightful

Ivy: Ivy. haha.

Peace: Tranquility

Eunice: Good victory

I love it.

when two negatives don't make a positive...

2010-10-03T21:29:00.000-07:00

Coming Soon to Choir 35...

2010-09-26T23:46:00.000-07:00

New York City.

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I like rocks.

2010-09-23T21:35:00.000-07:00

Priscillah Grace Nyambura. The girl loves rocks. Loves. And we've spent a decent amount of time trying to convince her that she doesn't need to pick up rocks. I think as of late, it's been a pretty successful mission.

But she's passed on her affinity for these rocks...

to me.

Currently, there are four little rocks in my coat pocket (the ACC coat pockets are deep - it's cause the manufacturers knew we have children?) Anyway. Four little rocks. And they are special to me. And for a while, I hid the fact that I had these little rocks in my pocket, because I didn't want Little Miss Prisc to regress into her habit, plus, I felt kind of silly keeping rocks in my pocket. My bags are heavy enough on their own, I don't need someone to pick up my coat too and say, "What, are you keeping rocks in here or something?" Because then I'd have to say yes.

But today, reading Joshua, I realized - liking rocks isn't so weird. And holding onto rocks that are special or symbolic to you isn't so completely bizarre. Why? Well, dear Joshua, tell us the story again, will you?

"And Joshua said to them, "Pass on before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, 'What do these stones mean to you?' then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever." (4:5-7)

Then, you see, it occurred to me: God used rocks to help people remember things. "Build a memorial" "make an alter" "sleep on this stone then name the place it rests on because of what happened here" and it goes on. God used rocks. And if I even recall correctly... the 10 Commandments were written on... um... pieces of plywood? Oh, no wait, rocks.

One dear little rock in my pocket is in the shape of an arrow. I found it the night that Faith, Priscillah, Naomi and I were on the bank of a river skipping rocks across the water. Or should I say, the night that Faith and I were skipping rocks across the water and Priscillah and Naomi were finding big rocks and hucking them about a foot into the water (their muscles grow bigger each day, rest assured). And this tiny rock in the shape of an arrow is special to me, because I think of those girls doing those things. It's also special to me because it reminds me of where I'm going. See, on this stay with these girls I had a mini-panic attack in that after tour, I have no idea what I'm going to do. I don't have a job, I don't have plans. I'm going to visit Missy, then... what? I don't know. Collect rocks or something stellar like that. Maybe open a rock shop and make all kinds of money - or rather, open a rock pawn shop. I'll trade you my pretty blue-ish rock for your pretty diamond rock. I'll be rich.

Seriously though. I have no idea what I'm going to do. And so this arrow-shaped rock reminds me that even though I'm completely clueless, God has a purpose and a plan. He knows which way I'm going to go. It's peace in a promise I'm reminded of constantly, thanks to this tiny little rock.

So. Rocks. Cool? Sure. Do I like earth science? Why, no. Not even a little. So why is one of the rocks that I carry white with a blue shimmer? I don't know. But I think it's pretty, and when I look at it, it reminds me of the time when Ruthie picked it up and said, "Auntie, a gift for you!" The same night that I was reminded of the beauty of God's creation as we walked along the shore of the Alaskan Pacific and saw a bazillion magnificently colored starfish littered across the rock wall of the ocean at low-tide (that was tonight... but doesn't it sound more epic if it's worded as though it was long, distant past?) I think so. So that little gifted rock from Ruthie stands to me as a "memorial" of this night.

And I no longer think it's weird, because God used rocks as memorials too.

Vaseline.

2010-08-29T16:38:00.000-07:00

Ew. That clear petroleum jelly known for its moisture locking-in qualities, slimy gooey-ness that makes me think of dancers and teeth.

This is Faith.

Notice the shine on her lips? That's right, it's vaseline.

And today, my lips are just as shiny, because each time Faith stays with me in a host family, she makes sure I'm all glossed up. If it makes her happy, I'll dab that slimy stuff on for her. Dear Faith, I love you.

a holiday, of sorts

2010-07-15T16:21:00.000-07:00

(I began writing this when I was home nearly three weeks ago, and just remembered it today...)

Unrest. Peace. Love. Hate. Joy. Sorrow. Goodbye. Hello. Fear. Calm. Worry. Trust. Excitement, anticipation: Relief.

All these things I have felt in the past month and a half - on extreme levels. Learning to trust God with more than what I ever thought I could even experience.

I sit here in my living room at home with my family, getting ready to join my African Children's Choir family tomorrow. For about ten days I have been on the East Coast, visiting my very best friend after she has left her side of the world - about as randomly as I left mine. Together we have laughed, nearly cried, gone canoeing, planned our lives and envisioned what life would have been like if things had actually gone the way we planned them to go. Thank the Lord that He is good and He knows what is truly best for us.

God never gives us more than we can handle - but he knows that we can handle a lot more than we think we can. In His strength we will soar on wings like eagles, we will run and not grow weary, we will walk and not grow faint. How true that is - when the world crumbles around us our strength found in Him never even falters. Matthew 5 and Psalm 91 continually remind me of that truth from Isaiah. Blessed are the persecuted, blessed are those who mourn, they will find shelter in the Lord's tent - all will be well.

I have experienced many things in the past couple years. The joys and sorrows of parenting children that had long, rough histories before I even knew about them is indeed rewarding as well as difficult. My heart burns for Mari Tarez, the dear girl I came to love so much in Haiti. My mind swirls each day with the children I am with now as well as with her. Jumbled in are thoughts and prayers for my best friend, my family, and what on earth I'll do when I get off tour. Fortunately as I soar on wings like eagles, God knows the plans he has for me - so He'll continue to push me with His powerful wind in the direction I need to go. Storms will come and go, the winds get rough and there are times when the skies are clear and the soaring is smooth.

Trials are what make us strong. Going through the fire. Rejoicing in the painful purification process because looking back we can see how far God has brought us. Those shiny spots of silver that were once tarnished reveal just a tiny bit more of the Silversmith's reflection in us.

So with a multitude of emotions, of things these past couple months have presented themselves with, I am thankful. All the time, God is good, and God is good all the time!

a world of strangers

2010-05-31T17:32:00.000-07:00

I'm craving a life I'm not currently called to live.

Each night I climb in a car to go home with any number of complete strangers. We are introduced, but conveniently enough because of the children, 'Auntie' and 'Uncle' are the names they usually go by (which saves the embarrassment I have had in the past by calling tonight's host by the name of last night's host). It's a life full of strangers, every minute characterized by a very obnoxious, talkative worm that seems to live in my head - always saying things like "Why does it matter, when tomorrow you'll be gone?" There's a new kind of wall being built up around my heart - for better or for worse - because when I become "friends" with people I meet - in a matter of days or even hours, they go back to their normal life and I climb on a bus - and we'll probably never see or hear from each other again until we are together in Glory. Perhaps even, I think we've gotten along really well and as I'm contemplating giving my email address to them to keep in touch - they casually wave goodbye and once again I am a passing phase. It's not easy (being green - especially now, and yes, I use plastic water bottles, but thirty people on one bus - how many emissions are we saving the planet by carpooling across North America?) Anyway, it's not easy living this life. Almost every night a new house, a new family, a new set of names, a new bed, a new bathroom, and a new set of stairs.

Stairs. How bizarre that I notice the stairs. I'm one of those people that counts steps. Does that make me OCD? Perhaps. At home there are thirteen steps, a set of eight, a landing, then five more. And as I walked up the stairs at my host family today, arriving after a lovely day off - I carried my bag up to my room for three nights - and I didn't count eight and five. And as I counted I thought to myself, "This is something I always did at home. Got home from work, brought my bag up to my room, counted the stairs on my way, then went down to sit with my family." People I knew. People that when I sat around the table with, I could call by name. "Hey Miss, can you hand me the chicken?" instead of my now formal and impersonal "Excuse me Uncle, would you mind passing me the chicken?" My cordialness leaks a sense of oddity as my bag sits on a stranger's bed that's wearing sheets and a duvet cover littered in large, brightly covered flowers. I miss my solid colored walls and my snow white comforter at home - the lack of patterns and visual business that cloud my head and eyes with rainbow vomit. Who thought floral print was a good idea?

I think about all this today, because I had an absolutely lovely day off with very wonderful people I know from home. Though it's been a long time since I've seen them, it was a breath of fresh air and a taste of home. I climbed into the car with them this morning and immediately felt as though I'd stepped back into my other "life" - driving through the streets of "Canandaigua" with two friends that I have looked up to greatly for as long as I can remember. It was familiar.

"Familiar" I've come to learn is a very powerful, very important word. And how nice that it's so close to "Family" - Familiar. Family is familiar. The twenty-nine other people I live with and the bus we all live on right now is the only close "familiar" that I have - and they have become to me a very special family. Here. But every now and again I wish that when I got "home" at night I'd count the same eight and five and sit down with people I've known for more than nine months. Living through each day knowing exactly where I was and where I was going to rest my head that night. Someplace familiar.

And yet each night as I lay my head down in whichever house I happen to be in, I know that God has called me here for such a time as this. Though sometimes I think I'd give just about anything to go home to the familiar, I'm not willing to give up this family. I, along with eight others, are interim parents for these beautiful children and each day is an opportunity to teach and train them in the way they should go. The craving I have for a life of non-nomadic "normalcy" is significantly dwarfed by the craving I have to be with these people, these children: this family.

And so I pray, "Right now, Lord, here I am, for such a time as this."

Michael W. Smith!

2010-05-09T14:20:00.001-07:00

Last night the choir got to sing with Michael W. Smith! They did fantastic a fantastic job, and we all had so much fun!

this always makes me smile.

2010-05-03T18:29:00.000-07:00

My favorite part is Stella at the end... seeing what she would look like if she was large. This may be her only time to see that. Ever. And she's hilarious.

inspired

2010-05-03T13:18:00.000-07:00

Today I watched a large portion of the movie "Julie and Julia" and though I'm still deciding if I actually like it enough to want to finish it, I'm feeling inspired to write on my blog. Cliche? Yeah, totally. My ways are changing. oi.

It's almost as though I've just finished watching "You've Got Mail" and the sound of Tom Hanks & Meg Ryan's voices slowly speaking as their fingers click through the words are luring me into typing away as though a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils really is that inviting.

Alas, here I am with what I feel is nothing too significant to write about. I cut my lip on a gum wrapper about an hour ago, and I believe that to be a sign of pure talent. I changed the layout of my blog (isn't it pretty?). And I spent almost the entire morning sitting on a couch in a church lobby frittering away my time in the best possible manner, as can only be done on a day off such as this.

The iron is sitting next to me with the sewing kit, two costumes, and a ripped pair of trousers -all begging for my attention. And I think, and think. Technically I suppose I don't know what I'm doing. I hear the church receptionist mumbling away words that surely mean something to those close enough to hear the consonants. The children are downstairs in school, and in an hour I'll have rehearsal with them. I love rehearsal.

There is a certain joy that comes in teaching. Especially when you teach things you love. Lately my main goal in rehearsals is to teach the children to love music. I've been playing songs for them - last time the variety went from Josh Groban singing Ave Maria to the Super Mario Brother's theme song. Training their ears to hear the perfect fifths and the majors and minors and the sevenths and the rhythms - the beauty of the invisible that captivates so many and pulls us into this world of perfect amazement. Like following the wind - you can't see it and you don't know where it's going but the breeze is lovely and carries with it this romance, giving you goosebumps and that breath of fresh air your lungs crave. Music.

Now I should watch August Rush.

I want them to love what they do. Every time they step onto the platform I want them to sing their hearts out - singing the same songs they've sung for a solid year with joy and adoration to the God that created the mystery of music and the beauty that is found therein. Love. Joy. Fascination. Amazement. I want them to have it - for music, and for God. I want them to love what they do.

So... now that I've written something and my inspiration is dwindling... there you have it. A point.

I want our children to love what they do.

one Vine, many branches

2010-04-13T20:30:00.000-07:00

Q: What is the difference between an African man and an American man?

A: One man was born in Africa, one man was born in America.

Q: What is the difference between a believer on one side of the world, and one on the other?

A: One believer is one one side of the world, and one believer is on the other.

Q: What is the difference between one branch that is connected to the Vine and another?

A: Nothing.

This struck me the other day as extremely profound. John 15: One Vine, many branches. I think of the grapevines that we have at home - a huge vine with so many branches and delicious grapes that my dad makes into a SWEET grape pie (yes, grape PIE!). One Vine. Many branches. And I picture the grapevines in my head: and I think, "Gee, I really like picking the grapes from the side closest to our house, rather than the ones on the side that faces the neighbors." (Yeah, I have this weird neighbor-phobia thing I inherited when I was little and the neighbor kids threw rocks at my sister and I.) But are the grapes on the side next to my house any better than the ones on the other side? Well, no - so long as the grapes on the other side didn't get squished by flying rocks. Some grapes grow in the shade. Some grow on the top of the vine - some grow on the bottom. Some grow next to thorns. Some grow next to the lilac bush. But all the branches are connected to the same vine. The same Vine. The SAME VINE. One Vine. Have I said it enough? do you get it yet?

What vine? oh, that's right - the same one!

And so I propose to you that in the body of Christ, cultures of this world are about as worthless as a speck of dust in my nose. Are you following me? Grab the tissue box and let's go: (when I was in Geometry my mom said that "proofs" would help my logic skills - and now, I think, I still don't care why that triangle is that way because of the square.... a2'd + b2'd = blah blah. So here is some non-geometry related logic for you.)

If the branch that grows next to the thorn bush is connected to the grapevine, it's still going to grow grapes.

If the branch that grows next to the lilac bush is connected to the grapevine, it's still going to grow grapes.

A fig tree can't produce olives, and an olive tree can't produce figs.

So if the branch by the thorns grows grapes....

And the branch by the lilacs grows grapes...

Don't you think it's safe to assume that they are both the same kind of branch? Quite possibly connected to the same vine? OH. Whhhaaaaa?

I have become a fairly accurate people watcher and people predictor. I could pretty accurately tell you five things about a persons house or personality just by the kind of air freshener they have in their car. I have watched and watched and figured out and made lists and done ethnographies and made predictions and watched them come true. Yet in all my thoughts and processes and lists - one conclusion is the only necessary one. One Vine, many branches. So many times on the drive home I try to make a mental list of the things I think I have in common and can easily talk about with the host - and sometimes I can think of absolutely nothing save our faith. Is that bad? No.

One Vine. Many branches.

Romans 12 puts this into perspective, combining in perfect words the struggle I've had living on a multi-"cultural" bus: "I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual act of worship. Do not be conformed to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself higher than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and are individually members of one another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness."

In Haiti culture shock hit me hard, and in that I had a choice of how to react.

Option One:

Freak out. Take in all the things around me and freak out because I didn't understand them. Then, block them out. Accept the fact that I didn't understand them and tick them off as wrong because as far as I saw past my nose, they were wrong. Then freak out some more, for like, four more months, then fly home and be done.

Option Two:

Freak out. Take in all the things around me and freak out because I didn't understand them. Then, make lists. I made lists in my head of things that I saw in the culture that I did and didn't like. Then I had to take ALL of them and put them through the Bible test. Did what I saw line up with the way God intends us to act and live? If so, who was I to argue with it or dislike it? One Vine, many branches. I could go through and give you examples but I'd rather just get to the point.

Living on a bus with people from four countries can clearly create some worldly culture confusion - even strong disagreements. Recognizing that we still live in this world and we are by nationality Ugandans, Kenyans, Canadians and Americans, we are different. If branches could talk, I'll bet the ones growing on the top of the vine would say different things than the ones growing on the bottom - but only because of their surroundings. Be in this world - not of it. How many vines? Oh right - just One.

Christ gives us unity in the very way that the Church is set up - disunity comes when we get stuck on our surroundings - the way I do things vs. the way you do things. Be in this world not of it, remember? Do not conform any longer to the patterns of this world. One Vine. We are many branches, all connected, working together, raising these children - striving for unity and we are only able to find it when we look to our roots that can't be found in the patterns of this world.

How many vines?

One.

clearly.

2010-04-10T22:33:00.001-07:00

Clearly, "Windows 7" has failed. Though, I could have predicted that as I set myself up for failure (with a title like Windows, was I kidding?)

Truth be told I don't know what to write because so much has happened yet I feel like so little has happened. Do I think it's little because I'm overwhelmed and can't find where to start? Like when the wood pile gets so high you have just created a new floor and you wonder where all the wood went?

The bus gets turned on almost every day and Vic or Rachel drives us to a new place. We unload. We set up. The children play then nap. Supper. Soundcheck. Concert. Host families. Sleep. Then we wake up in the morning, drive to the church and the bus gets turned on....

Yet so much has happened! We have been from the bottom of California to Alberta in five weeks. We have gone to Disney. I spent a couple days with my family in Colorado Springs, and had a FANTASTIC time. Things are going on in my head. Big things. I'm learning so much, and I find myself saying, "I think I grew up a little more today" quite frequently (even though I still like the joke about 6 and 7 - though maybe that's because the children don't get it).

It's no secret that tour changes you. I'm learning things about parenting, friendships, about unity, about what is really important in life, about those things & ministries that God has given you passions for that make your heart get all jittery and bouncy when you think about them. It's good.

Please continue to pray for our choir, for our children to continue to grow in the Lord and in their relationship with Him; and for us as chaperones to continue to grow connected to the Vine, for we are all connected to the same One and are trying to produce the same fruit in these beautiful children. And springtime is here!

Opa & I in Colorado:

Thank you for your continued support!

sunshine and green grass

2010-03-08T22:53:00.000-08:00

Today was lovely. We enjoyed the sunshine outside in a huge grassy courtyard at the church (I may have enjoyed it a bit too much - as I got sunburned, on HALF of my face because of the way my hair was resting.... dang...).

In attempts to be a tad bit more frequent with my blog.... here you have it: Windows 7 to work:

1- had a nice little "So what's it like to be 8 years old?" chat with Priscilla, who's birthday was on Saturday. Then she stole my shoes. Ahh yes, the joys of being eight.

2- wrote some thank-you notes. Don't get too hopeful though - I only finished four.

3- enjoyed the hot tub with Stacy & the girls.

4- enjoyed the hot tub with Stacy after the girls went to bed - while watching Anastasia with the subtitles (since the jets were too loud) and drinking mango juice (that gave Stacy heartburn). I love when doing things like that at a complete stranger's house is just another Monday night.

5- sat in the sunshine. Did I mention how nice the sunshine was today? and the green grass? because it was truly spectacular.

Jonah, Alesha, Derrick, Ivy, Grace, Eunice, Priscilla & I on Goofy's couch at DISNEYLAND! I'll talk about that another time. perhaps.

I'd like to call this one, "Windows 7"

2010-03-01T22:51:00.001-08:00

Blogging (verb [blaw-ghing]): Writing your thoughts and/or experiences on the world-wide-web for the world to see.

Now, to me:

Blogging (noun [blah-ghing]): The silent thing for which I usually have very, very few words & subconsciously choose not associate myself with, most of the time (ratio of posts to days on tour, like, 1/100?).

*insert awkward/shameful silence here.

Not that I don't have lots to say, you need only meet me to know that.

But on the web? oi. I like lists and order. If I were lame enough I would actually fill out those things on facebook etc. that say "List 4 places that you'd like to visit, 4 People you'd like to go with, 4 things you'd bring..." yada yada. But I don't care about what those things say, and nobody else does either.

However, my life at this point is a tad bit more exciting than "1. Haiti, 2.Central Asia, 3.Kenya, 4.Uganda" and I'm under the slightest impression that the unnatural affinity I have for blah-ghing may need to be forced... *sigh.

My solution for this dilemma is to create a system that doesn't scare me into writing random thoughts each day or giving a mundane synopsis of my life in three paragraphs or less. So while I am currently feeling inspired, here I go.

As often as I remember, I'm just going to list good things that happened during the day and maybe stick a picture in for visual interest. Simple. That is a way of blah-ghing that doesn't trick me into being too deep or too dull. OK.

March 1, 2010

- We are at a wonderful church, full of extremely hospitable, kind, generous people

- I have great hosts that are fun, clean, and simple

- John has a hard time saying his "R's" when there's really an "R" and not an "L" and today he was talking about how he will see Tinkle Bell at Disney tomorrow, which inspired Alex to sing "Tinkle Bell, Tinkle Bell, Tinkle all the way."

- I got a beautiful dress today that is completely casual AND dressy AND it folds into a tiny, tiny ball so I can fit it in my suitcase. It's a triple win.

- The children gave me so many random hugs today, it was LOVE-ly.

Above: What happens when it's a Play-Travel-Sunday (with flamingos).

Cover your bases, right?

Okay. New system... has... starTeD.. w ilL no-t cRa.shhhh...

sooo..... how have you been?

2010-02-04T15:25:00.000-08:00

In receiving my monthly "Alumni Update" from BBC... and then realizing that I'm in the update, and that my blog is in the update... I figured it'd probably be a good idea to let everyone know what I've been up to recently!

DECEMBER:

WOW! What a crazy month. Knowing that Christmas Camp was right around the corner and the stresses of our intense schedule would soon come to a drastic halt was always an encouraging thought. One of my host families took us to Downtown Disney for supper - I've never been to Disney World (and still haven't...) but it was so fun walking around the shops and looking at all the Christmas lights! The girls and I had a fantastic time.

Now for the big one... on December 23rd the children made a guest appearance on Jay Leno! Preparation for it made out for a very busy week, but we had so much fun in the end. I conducted for it, which was awesome! I had so much fun, and the children were wonderful!

Christmas Camp hit as soon as Jay Leno was over, and we very quickly made ourselves at home at a wonderful place called Gleanings for the Hungry in Dinuba, CA. There we played lots of soccer, games, read a lot of books, had Christmas together, yada yada yada. Our big task for the time off came later into the break - getting ready for our Opus concerts in -

JANUARY:

OPUS! A tiny little glorious taste of what Choir 34 is doing with Journey of Hope. Rather than our regular church concerts, the children performed in large Theaters in Arizona and California. We started in Phoenix, and worked our way back up to Dinuba for one final night at Gleanings. I absolutely loved it. I realized as I walked back stage that I miss doing theater - though my personal experience is somewhat limited, I grew up in rehearsals for shows. It was wonderful. I got to stand in the back with flashlights in my white gloves and conduct the children, which was probably the most hilarious looking thing I've done in a really long time. Kind of bizarre... but fun. The children loved the little excursion into JOH, doing something new and different than the norm gave them new energy and enthusiasm for tour. It was a wonderful, wonderful week.....

Quickly after that we jumped right back into church concerts and have been going strong ever since. Every day a new place, with new faces and new challenges. Ahh... the joys of tour.

FEBRUARY:

We started the month on a proper note: a day off on Alcatraz. It was fascinating - and we were keeners. We were the first to answer all the tour guides questions. Go us.

So... that may have been a very brief, semi-mundane entry. But as a general, quick gist of what's been going on here on Tour 35.. I suppose it will do!

Bless!

answers to prayer

2009-12-01T21:39:00.001-08:00

It's no secret that I lived in Haiti - and while I was there I saw a lot of things (if you want to know about any of it, let me know, I'll tell you. but you'll have to ask me to stop eventually, because I have a lot to say).

Poverty, brokenness, poor health, terrible living conditions, these all within feet or inches of me - always. Specifically the Saline. On the Saline there was a house with a man in it who was elderly, physically broken, and in need of serious medical care. My neighbor, Beth, and I visited often and she (a nurse) would do her best to help him, but her skills were limited for his needs. On one visit, I knelt down and prayed with the man that he would receive medical attention.

Someone took this picture of me praying and talking with him:

Today, I was looking at random pictures of La Gonave on google images, and I stumbled across this picture, taken on April 9, 09 (so says the stamp) - I left Haiti on April 1. Three weeks after I prayed with him.

The prayers of both Beth and I were answered in this picture, and I am blessed and elated that I found it!!!
The power of prayer... my oh my.

big lessons from a little man

2009-11-13T23:46:00.000-08:00

His name? Nehemiah.

God has a way of putting things on our hearts at what we feel are the most random times. Like a few days ago when He said, "Hey Amy, why don't you open to Nehemiah tonight?" and I said, "mmhmm, ok, but I don't see what building a wall has to do with the African Children's Choir..."

Oh my, I mean this short little man and I are like twins, metaphorically speaking.

Reading through the chapters, Nehemiah finds out about the destruction of the city wall, he feels a call to rebuild it, he asks the king to go, the king says yes, he goes, he plans, he builds, he faces opposition, he keeps building. He keeps building. He keeps building until the work is done.

Do you see it yet? Do you see how we're twins? No? yeah. Took me a while.

It clicked in my head when I got to 6:3, where Nehemiah says these words: "I am doing a good work, and I cannot come down."

A few years ago my pastor did a sermon series on Nehemiah, and that verse is what I remember from it. Occasionally it runs through my head when I maybe don't want to do something other than what I'm doing, and I say the verse in pride. As if to say, "ha, as if, I'm busy doing good up here, so too bad, I cannot come down." But sometimes I say it in humility as a personal reminder. "I am doing a good work, and no matter how tired I am, no matter how much I may want to go back home, no matter what anyone else says, I cannot come down."

Building a wall around Jerusalem surely wasn't an easy task. Fifty-two days, chapter six tells us it took. Fifty two days - God had a pretty big part in this - because fifty-two days for a wall around a city is making quick work. (If only road construction in the 21st century could go as quickly.) But the stones were still heavy, the work was hard, with it came blisters, sweat and pain as they worked to restore the wall. But the joy they had in amidst the difficulties, the sense of accomplishment they must have had when they stepped back and saw just a little bit more of the wall completed. Isn't it worth it?

And I look at my life right now; I look at the beautiful faces I see each day, the joy and the hope that is in the eyes of each and every one of those kids, and I see my wall. I am Nehemiah, and the ACC is my wall. Some days the work is easy, some days it is hard. Sometimes I feel that the section I built yesterday came crumbling down today. Some days the work is quick and the party at the end of the day is a grand celebration of the accomplishments. Some days are just average - but I must rejoice in them all. For God has called me to this work - and when I continue to rely on Him, the wall will get bigger. It is good.

I won't be home for Christmas (this year you can't count on me, despite how much I would love to go home for Christmas) and I won't be home for Easter, Thanksgiving, my sister's birthday, New Years, or anything else for a while, but I am where God has called me to be. My wall right now is here, on a bus. I am doing a good work, and I cannot come down.

So you see? Me and Nehemiah, we are twins.

P.S - I like mail :)

2009-11-13T23:43:00.000-08:00

Hey! This is my mailing address while I'm on the road, and I'd love to hear from you!

African Children's Choir

c/o Amy Thompson, Choir 35

PO Box 31683

Bellingham, WA 98228

Quotable.

2009-11-06T00:12:00.000-08:00

In my tour journal I have a page dedicated to quotes from the children. Soon, I will have two pages dedicated to quotes... then three... then four... then five...

For now, here are a few of my favorites for you to enjoy.

Eunice, at the drive-through: "There is a man in the box who is talking!"

Me: "Stella, can you tell me what time it is?"

Stella: "It's two, two little, two little dots, nine, eleven, eleven, nine, one, one, dots, two dots, nine eleven, it's nine twelve."

Now to explain this one, I have been telling them in rehearsals to pretend like God has tied a string on top of their head and he's gently tugging it to help their posture. So this was Ruth one day, talking to herself & grimacing in pain:

"Ow! OW!! ow. OW! God is pulling the string!!"

Me: "Children, do you like Christmas music?"

Ivy: "Oh yes! (sings) Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."

Stella: "If you catch the water the fish will spank you!"

Esther: "Auntie! Me I am brown like you!"

Jonah: "Derrick is cooking up harmonies!"

John: "In a SAUCEPAN!"

More to come, eventually :)

in the course of a year

2009-10-13T09:16:00.000-07:00

One year ago today I woke up at the dreadful hour of 3:30 am, boarded a plane and moved to Haiti. Has it really been a year since that day? I remember the moment I stepped off the plane onto the tarmac with no idea where I was going – knowing only that when I got out of the airport I was to look for the tall white man. Crazy? Absolutely. Then together the tall white man (Dan) and I would travel to the guest house where the rest of the whites were, and wake up the next morning only to hop into a blue taxi van and travel to an island where I would make my home for the following six months of my life.

It was on that island where I learned to be content with where I was, what I was doing, where I wasn’t, and what I wasn’t doing.

On that island I couldn't go anywhere alone. I made wonderful friends – some whom I could easily communicate with; others, mmm, not so much.

On that island I learned a new language – seventy-five percent Haitian Creole, twenty-five percent “make noises and hand motions until they know what I’m trying to tell them.”

There I went without the Internet, a phone, television and radio, and sometimes electricity and running water.

Sometimes I think my life was completely crazy.

From that island I boarded an eight-passenger boat with twenty-five other people, four suitcases, a keyboard, a giant bag of charcoal and a pile of tied-up chickens; then watched as the shore got farther and farther away and the man behind me quickly bailed water from the boat with a five gallon bucket.

Perhaps “crazy” isn’t an adequate enough word.

This year on that island I fell in love with an orphan girl named Mari Tarez. She stole my heart away with her broken spirit and her deep, lonely eyes. Through her I was humbled. With her I learned a sliver of what it means to have God as my Papa. Because of her I feel as though those six months of loneliness, frustration, restlessness and growing were completely justified and worthwhile. I’d do it again for her in a heartbeat.

On that island I learned that wonderful security and comfort comes in the simplicity of a mosquito net.

This year I walked the fence between principles and love. What kind of thorny fence is that??

This year Acts 3:6 has made me dance with joy and weep with brokenness. “Silver or gold I have not – but what I have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk.”

This year I spoke the following sentence: “Mom! When I get a bowl of cereal, I don’t have to look for worms in it before I pour the milk!” Funny, the things we get used to doing.

This year I went on a fantastic road trip with my best friend all over New England. Together we spent a day driving & $30 in gas to find a Ben & Jerry’s so we could get a free ice cream cone for lunch, only to wind up at a sketchy gas station in Maine. On this trip we went to Yale. We camped in Cape Cod. We slept in the parking lot of a gas station just inside New Hampshire because we hated Vermont that much. We saw a show on Broadway. We got lost in Boston. We had the time of our lives.

This year I graduated from college. Before April, I couldn’t even remember what it’s like to not be in college.

This year my roommate got married. My sister started college. My best friend moved to Asia.

And I started living my dream.

This year I took up residence on a bus with twenty-three beautiful African children and seven other adults.

This year all the things that God has given me passions for have come rolling together to form the first stepping-stone in my life as a “grown-up” – and it is happening here, with the African Children’s Choir. Music, children, traveling, global ministry, choirs, it’s all here in this one thing. Could it get any better than this??

Looking back at where I’ve been in the course of just twelve months, I can’t believe the kinds of things I’ve done & learned. I feel as though I’ve become an expert at sociology & ethnographies (it’s amazing the kinds of things you can tell about a person by their car). I’ve slept in so many different places & houses I often wake up and have no idea what town I’m in – let alone where the bedroom door is located (an extremely odd, semi-uncomfortable feeling…).

This year I am thankful for opportunities, for the people that God has brought into my life, for the things I have learned, and for the places I have been.

It has certainly been quite the year.

a little language lesson (for me)

2009-10-07T23:39:00.000-07:00

Admittedly, I have a teddy bear on tour. He is a Koala bear, and his name is Kwawa. I've had this bear for as long as I can remember, and yesterday one of the girls I was staying with noticed him in my bag. She asked the name of my doll: I responded (boldly and unashamed): Kwawa.

She laughed, giggled, laughed some more, then proceeded to tell me that in Luganda, "kwawa" is "here" - as she pointed to her armpit. That's right, my bear's name is Armpit. I suppose that if I ever travel to Uganda, I should change his name.

Funny, the kinds of things that humble us...

I promise, I used to be an English teacher.

2009-09-26T15:31:00.000-07:00

Since traveling with the children, and since many of them are just still learning English, there are a few phrases/habits I have picked up from them. For example...

1. Over annunciating.

"GooD morning RiTah. HoW are you ToDay?

2. Forgetting about contractions.

"You can not stand on the bus if the bus is moving. When it is stopped we will all stand up together."

3. The word "catch" and what it really means. The children often say "catch" in place of the words hold, take, and touch.

"Auntie, my shoes are catching me." (translation: her shoes are getting tight)

"Auntie, catch this for me." (translation: take this water bottle out of my hand)

"Auntie, I was catching the seat and then I fell!" (translation: I was holding on to the seat and it fell)

4. Toilet = Washroom = Bathroom.

Potato, Poh-taa-toe - or is it?

5. Pronouns - overrated?

"Auntie, this one she is funny!"

6. Over-use of "me" "myself" and "I"

"Me, I used to like cheese."

we've been... doing lots of things!

2009-09-13T23:04:00.000-07:00

not so sure about the raspberries:

roasting marshmallows:

Eunice & I:

museum (this thing was so cool):

At the aquarium:

during playtime:

a host family's beautiful garden:

It's been a busy couple weeks! stories to come!

what a DAY!

2009-08-31T10:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was one of the greatest days I've had in a while - and mind you, the past few weeks things have been really good.

The family that I am staying with has a cabin on Hayden Lake in Idaho and yesterday we all went up for some fun on the water. It is so interesting to watch these girls come out of their shells - to see them interact in a different environment, away from the rest of the choir, with new people, new surroundings, and new things - like tubing. yes. It was fantastic.

I had with me Priscilla, Eunice, and Deborah, and throughout the course of the day there were transformations in Eunice & Priscilla - especially Eunice. Let me give a little breakdown on their personalities:

Deborah: Fearless. This girl would jump from a plane if you told her it was fun. She's awesome.

Priscilla: The youngest of the three - often plays the "I'm so adorable" card - and she is so adorable. A little shy, though I think it's part of the cute card :)

Eunice: Strong, but timid. If that makes sense? haha. Hesitant. Kind. Lovely.

So we began the day at the lake. The girls had life jackets on, Priscilla was content to stay on the dock, Deborah was in the water before we knew it, and Eunice stood on the edge of the dock fearful that her life jacket would sink. With some coaxing, she and Priscilla slowly climbed down the ladder into the water and began swimming around like four-legged octopuses, not sure of what to do with their arms and feet. Deborah, the confident dare devil, was giving swimming lessons to the other two, convincing them that their life jackets were indeed always going to float, to kick with their legs, and paddle with their arms. Her confidence leaked onto them like oil leaks out of my car onto the driveway. By the end of the day the three of them had jumped off the dock, swam for so long their lips turned blue, gone on a boat, went tubing, and got thrown off the tube - to which they laughed and screamed and cried "again! again!" (we thought they'd freak. As soon as we watched them flip I stood on the side of the boat frantically ready to dive in after them, not that I thought they'd be hurt, but because I thought they'd be freaked... they weren't, they loved it). SO.... yeah. We had a blast.

Here are some pics from the day.

Priscilla on the boat.
Eunice on the boat.
Deborah on the boat.
Deb & Eunice tubing it up!
Deb & I on the tube!

camp!

2009-08-24T11:45:00.000-07:00

On Thursday, the 23 beautiful children of the 35th African Children's Choir arrived in Seattle - exhausted but sooooo excited! The first day we went to a park and Arby's for some chicken nuggets and french fries (which they may or may not remember, they were sooo tired!). Then we came to camp for some training, rehearsals and fun before we start the concerts. It's been awesome so far!

Here are a few pictures from this week!

the prayers of children

2009-08-09T17:16:00.000-07:00

This weekend I was commissioned by my church. During the service I was invited forward and the congregation came and surrounded me, lifting me up in prayer and lifting up the Choir. This by nature is a very special time - but what made it simply wonderful this morning was the three first-grade girls that came and took my hands, bowed their heads and prayed for me amidst the sea of adults. I loved it. Last night (my church has a Saturday night service as well) another girl came and stood on the step behind me during the prayer. After service she came and talked to me and asked TONS of questions about the kids - like are they being taken care of, do they have clean water (I asked, she is only seven) and are they safe. I answered her questions then she indicated that she wanted to whisper something in my ear. I leaned down and she said "I was the one that put my hand on your head during the prayer, and your hair is really soft." I smiled and laughed and said "That's because I washed it today." She didn't know what to say... She was so cute though, I'm so thankful that I have prayers like hers - prayers lifted through the faith of a child - supporting me while I travel this upcoming year.

love.

and so it begins!

2009-07-31T10:40:00.000-07:00

Eleven days - one week from Saturday - and I’ll be hopping on a plane to Seattle, Washington, where the other North American Choir Chaperones and I will meet and start our time together serving with the African Children's Choir (ACC). I am having a little bit of a hard time containing my excitement. These next to weeks are bound to be a whirlwind of emotions as I say goodbye to my family, co-workers, friends - and my best friend, who is also leaving - not just for one year but for two. She departs on her own adventure tomorrow, and I ask that you pray for her earnestly over these next couple years.

It's hard to believe that just three months ago I had no idea what I would be doing after these short summer months. I continually marvel at how quickly God has brought these plans about. And not just any plans - the best laid plans I could ever think of. Amazing.

For a solid year I'll be living on a bus with 24 beautiful African children, teaching them, loving them, and learning with them as they travel through North America singing of the joy and hope they have as Africa's future. It's going to be a blast.

I'll do my best to keep this updated with stories, pictures, and whatever else I can come up with along the way.

Please feel free to email me at amy.haiti@gmail.com (I lived in Haiti for 6 months this year, hence the "haiti" part of the address). If you'd like more information about the African Children's Choir, please email me or visit www.africanchildrenschoir.com.

More to come!

Above: Missy & I on our last "hoorah" in the mountains before we head out on our separate adventures....