Organic with money and such

I wish trying to feed my family and teach my kids how to eat well and healthy wasn't so darn expensive. (And by well, I mean really great tasting fun and exciting food. I want them to be adventurous with food.) I wish stores made it easier. I wish time made it easier. I wish money made it easier. Man reading this, I sure don't like to work very hard. ha!

I don't like the word "organic" but love everything that it means. I just hate how trendy it sounds. It almost sounds pretentious because you know how expensive it is. When in reality, it's the way food ought to be. Clean without chemicals, no preservatives and supporting the farmer who chooses to grow healthy, natural food with a little carbon foot print. It's the way it used to be and should be. I love cooking and making food, but the expectation of it three times a day gets a little daunting. I mean, if I'm not cooking, at least three people aren't eating and as a parent, its kind of my job. I think I would get arrested for not feeding them. One thing I really hate is washing dishes. Oh man there is nothing I like about that. And cooking and making food from scratch means dishes. Not just plates, but pots and pans.

These things are always on my mind. My kids are always hungry and I need to be thinking about what they are going to eat. We have a rule, fruit and/or veggies at every meal. My kids know words like dairy, protein, whole grain, vegetable, fruit, balanced diet. I say those things not because we are perfect, we are FAR from that, I just think, this is the only body we have, and we are shaping these little minds to understand food and what it does for you. I want them to have a healthy idea of what food is. That it is a gift. Something to be enjoyed and not filled with regret after eating it. I want them to love good food and enjoy the experience of eating.

I wish there was a better way to balance money and healthy eating. We always have fresh fruit and vegetables, but then we have to make sure we eat them all before they go bad. In order to have them around at convenience, they have to be frozen. (Convenience is a huge deal to parents of multiple children. Its hard to keep dragging three kids around to the store in 5degree weather.) I prefer frozen over canned because of more preservatives. However, it sure is tempting when money is really tight and there is a big sale on canned soups, veggies and fruit.

My son asked me about a squeeze jelly he really wanted. I told him no because of how bad it was for him. There was almost no actual fruit or berries in the jam. He asked why if it was so bad for us, would the store sell it? Why would they want to hurt us he wonders? Good question. Isn't there anyone we can trust in providing good real food? Yes, the Co-ops. I love Co-ops, except for our budget.

Then I think, how much is our health worth to us? Maybe I can decrease our finances somewhere else, to increase the food budget. That means I have to address our budget. I hate that almost as much as dishes.

Ahh. I heard a super model say once, she eats healthy 80% of the time. She felt that was a good effort. If it works for her, maybe it will work for us.

Looking at a lifetime of balancing that out.

What is mission work?

I was asked one time what I thought missions was. I have come to realize that it is two different things, but we often consider it as only one.

1. To witness about the life saving work of God through Jesus Christ.
2. To help feed the hungry, bring medicine to the sick, school to the illiterate, create access to clean water, etc. Meeting basic human needs and rights that so many live without.

The two stand as seperate issues. Both are needed but not necessarily together. They can support each other, or stand alone. I think our mistake comes in assuming that if you need the later, you must also need the former. If you don't have food, you must also not know Jesus. If you have ever done mission work, you would agree. There are many I have met who have much, much, much less than I do, but have a deeper rooted faith in God that would put mine to shame. (not that we are comparing.)

Sometimes as Christians I think we feel that if we are going to go and serve the basic needs of people than we must speak the name of Jesus and his truth into thier life. Isn't just showing up and caring about the basic needs of people just as God intended? If we are in a place that is helping meet those needs, than God is there. In fact, in just showing up, many of those who have needs to be met recoginze you as the answer to their prayer and give God the glory.

I do my acts of love in the name of Jesus, not that you have to know him. If I only act to persuade you to know and love God, than I will be discouraged if you don't. And if you don't in turn come to love Jesus, than do I stop loving you? Are you now not worthy of his love becuase you don't love him in return? I pray that how God uses me to love you will point you to Him, but in the end, I love you and serve you because he has commanded me to. And knowing God has created a desire in me to love you. The person I serve, and ultimelty am loving, has their own walk with the Lord. My walk with the Lord demands my time and attention and heart to the poor. In all we do we give God glory and credit for what we do, which of course we hope and pray points others to Him. But their believing in him does not waiver our committment to helping.

If you want to verbally witness and share Christ with all people, you don't have to do ministry in the slums. Maybe the better place for you to spend your time is with the middle and upper class folks. They have a lot to distract them from God's presence in thier lives. If your heart aches for people who live in unhumane conditions, than working to illimante that is very Christ like.


Both missions are needed, but not the same. They can work together and they can work seperate. But realize they are different.

A day of reconnection

I have a relationship with Haiti. That’s why it was so important for me to come. I needed to do some maintenance on my relationship with Haiti and the people I love here. I haven’t seen them in two years. Our relationship was suffering. I needed to be here. To rediscover her and be with those that are so dear to me.

Friday night we threw a Birthday party for Leonard. He is family to us. He has driven faithfully for us for over 10 years. The party was fantastic (and Leonard’s first)! We had pizza, rice and beans, fried plantains and beer. And we laughed so hard we cried watching Leonard break open his first pinata. Leonard’s oldest daughter, Nadine and I have been close friends since we met in 1999. We have emailed and called and visited one another both in Haiti and in the States. We have graduated High School together, gotten married, and had children over the years. She is like a sister to me.

Tonight I got to see Nadine. Immediately we sit and start talking. We get through the surface things and dig deep. Where is your heart? How is your relationship with your husband? What do you struggle with as a mother? What are your dreams for your future and family? What are you scared of now living in Haiti? How we can support each other so far away from one another?

Conversations with Nadine are real. They are honest. They are the big and little things in life. It warmed my heart and brought me peace to be with my friend tonight. It also showed me my desire for Haiti. To know her and love her on a very real level. To truly start to understand the depth of the people and their culture. To know them. Talk to them and hear their stories. I got to immerse myself a bit today in Haiti. Walking the streets and shopping with my friend. Eating out and talking about Haiti now and her future. What can our role be? What do they need? We clearly did not solve anything, but to sit in Haiti, talk about it and pray over it felt real.

Home

I love being here. I love the people, the culture, the air, everything. God is here. My family is here. Rachel is here. I wasn't sure how I was going to feel, but only peace resides within me being here.

I will post more latr, but wanted everyone to know that I am not just here, but doing well. Lots to do tomorrow, and share again.

May you find peace where you are.

Preparing for Haiti: Part 3

I often wonder if I am a woman of my word. OK, honestly, I hate that I’m really not. I also think, what memories will my children choose to remember of me? Am I someone who played with them? Am I someone who was busy all the time? Yelled a lot. Calm in the face of struggles. Their encourager. Then there is the issue of 100 times a day my kids loose their cool over something, and I hear the words pour out of my, “Take a breath. Relax. We can’t think when we are upset. Take a breath and let’s think about this. We can be angry, but we don’t have to loose our cool.” Then it never fails, I am tested five minutes later, and yes, I loose my cool. I feel like I loose it a lot and honestly I feel like, how are my children ever going to believe anything I say when I’m not a woman of my word? When I tell them to behave one way, and then act another?

Today was a day of pushing all sorts of limits. After starting breakfast at the request of my children, my cousin called. He wanted to know how flexible my travel time was because of all the weather around the country. He wanted me to leave 12 hours earlier than expected. Oh. OK. We can make that happen. I call Paul, I find a sitter, I wash a dish, I turn the TV on for the kids so I can pack, and we’ll make this happen. Then I go to grab my passport. Not where I left it. I look in the second place I keep it, our files. Not there. There are three places I keep my passport, all of them void of my one absolute critical traveling need. I call Paul, he doesn’t know. While my heart starts beating faster, I am trying to retrace my steps. Really difficult for me, when so many of my days feel the same. Then I have this vague memory of starting to pack for Haiti a month ago and moving my passport with my jewelry. Yeah. The Jewelry box that was stolen off my dresser at Christmas. I don’t have it. I don’t have a passport and I am supposed to leave for Haiti in four hours.

I stood their paralyzed. I started to cry, then I started to weep. A really hard cry from deep within. I hadn’t felt violated with the burglary until just then. They finally had taken something critical from me, my opportunity to go Haiti. I was looking at yet another trip cancelled. I couldn't breath. I was crying so hard. I called my friend Lindsey. She could talk me out of this place. Speak truth to me. Pray for me. I’m pretty sure she thought I had been attacked and when I told her what happened, she responded, “It’s OK. We can do this.” She found a passport emergency office here in the Twin Cities. There are only a handful of offices around the country, and wouldn’t you believe that one of them is 10 min from our house. It was noon. My kids hadn’t eaten, and I got an appointment at 1pm. I’m printing off applications, yelling at my kids to get their coats on while they are still in their pajama’s. Somehow we did it. I got my kids to the downtown office, after getting them upstairs, we had to go four blocks to the Post Office and get my photo taken, go back and finish the application, then go back outside to feed the meter. It was a crazy two hours and I yelled at my kids a lot to walk faster, stop complaining, stop touching everything, stop interrupting, you name it. Then I got my passport. It was a miracle. In two hours I went from having no passport to having a passport and leaving for the airport.

But I wasn’t proud of how I treated my children. In the face of hardship and struggle and stress, I wasn’t the woman of my word that I wanted to be. We would pray and then I would just freak out again. My kids saw me crying and tearing apart my room looking for my passport. When my son looses his favorite blanket and he starts freaking out and yelling that someone took it, I tell him to calm down. Retrace his steps. Yelling isn’t going to help. I get that a blanket and passport aren’t on the same level to an adult, but to a child, his absolute favorite possession is missing. Just like mine. We are in the same place and I expect more from him than I am able to deliver myself. Most days I disappoint myself in how I behave. I want to the woman I trying to raise my kids to be.

I live by the promise of “one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time.” God is gracious to me as I learn.