Friday Little Bits: Around the World in 3 Minutes

4theVoiceless is spanning the globe today in four quick updates:

Orphan Sunday

Orphan Sunday is the first Sunday in November each year, November 3 this year.  This is a time for churches worldwide to focus on some aspect of orphan care in response to the consistent commands of God in His Word to care for orphans.  Orphan Sunday originated in a small church in Zambia, Africa,  and has grown exponentially in the years afterward.

I am one of a couple of the Christian Alliance for Orphans' (CAFO) Orphan Sunday coordinators in Mississippi.  The coordinators were introduced to some of the resources that we have available for this year at the Summit conference in Nashville last month, and more resources are being made available as we move closer to November.  If you would like any information about Orphan Sunday for your church (no matter the denomination), please contact me; you do not have to have a full-fledged orphan care ministry to do something for Orphan Sunday.

Click here to read how I spent an unforgettable Orphan Sunday in 2012.

House of Abraham

One of the new HoA bedrooms as I last saw it in March.

I communicated back and forth with Fenel last week, and they are about a week now from moving out of the current home of House of Abraham.  The new house is not completely ready, but he is trying to get a couple of the rooms completed and the security wall finished so that move-in can begin.  Please make it a matter of prayer over the coming days that the new house will be prepared (enough) and that the transition from the old house would go smoothly.

And speaking of Haiti . . .

These kids would love to meet you or see you again!

Haiti 2014

Colonial Hills Church will be headed back to Jacmel, Haiti, to serve the House of Abraham and various other discipleship programs in early 2014.  The dates are either February 7-14 or 8-15, depending on the cost of airline tickets.  This team will be limited to a maximum of 24 people.  We will be planning a meeting on both CHC campuses in the next couple of months to give you more information on this mission trip, but if you are interested in being part of this team, contact me and I will get your name on the list of those who have already let me know they wanted to go.   If you do not attend CHC but would like to go on the trip with us, you can contact me, as well.

And finally . . .

Jamaica 2013

 

 

 

A past "little blue house" dedication.

The CHC Jamaica team leaves tomorrow morning.  There are 33 from our church who will meet up with 16 more from Fairview Baptist Church in Sherman, Texas, to build four houses as a continuing part of our "Little Blue House Project" and to also serve at the deaf school there.  This is where two of our teams built a playground last year.  Pray for our team as they build houses and relationships in Jamaica this week.

Jeff Witt & a child from the deaf school.

Check out the CHC Missions Facebook page to know how to pray for the team and also for updates throughout the trip.

 There you have it: Africa, Nashville, Haiti, Mississippi, Texas, and Jamaica -- around at least a considerable part of the world in three minutes or so.  Thanks for reading.

4theVoiceless,

Al

Interviews With Ashton: An Angry Little Boy

 Previous posts regarding my daughter's mission trip to Russia with Allies in Youth Development:

"To Russian With . . . Hesitation?"
"Interviews With Ashton: Russia Meets Father of the Bride"
"Interviews With Ashton: Graduation & I'm Going To Be a Millionaire"

Kids in the Corners

Before Ashton left for Russia, Loretta and I urged her to find the kids in the corners, the ones that who might have felt even more rejected than the other orphans.  (Kids like Stephen Ucembe, whom I wrote about in "Remembering Kickball and Picking Teams.")  This was not new for Ashton; she has been noticing and including kids on the edges since she was a little girl.  But when you only have a couple of hours in an orphanage, you have to be intentional about finding the kids who are not as cute, as bubbly, as engaging.

This One Place

Ashton had several summations of what she observed in the various orphanages and transitional homes.  But she remembered one this one place, a place where Allies in Youth Development had not gone before, that affected the whole mission team, Americans and Russians alike.

Orphanage conditions?  

Closed-off, not really like homes.  Typically, rows of twin beds with each kid's belongings in a pile underneath or beside the beds. 

In this one place, the home to about 30 or so Russian orphans of varying ages, living conditions were not good.  "It was a very sad, sad place.  The place smelled weird."  This place was hard on the whole team and even strong, Russian university students broke down and cried over what they witnessed.

Caregivers? 

Mostly downcast but very closed-off at this place.

Kids?

The level of warmth from the kids in the orphanages and transition homes usually mirrored the amount of time the university students had spent there in the past. 

At this one transitional home, the kids had bruises in "unusual places" and "missing patches of hair" and "unusually scratched-up knees." The older girls were very depressed and downcast.  Ashton noticed that in the midst of this setting, there was one little boy who was positive, always smiling and trying to encourage the other kids.  And then there was . . .

The Angry Little Boy

Ashton learned pretty soon after arriving at this place that there was one little boy who never spoke and who was angry all the time.  She moved toward him and gained some degree of favor with him, though he would not let her touch him or even come very close to him.  Though he would not join in with the games that the group was using to break the ice with the kids, he came closer to stand by Ashton's side.

She drew him further in by first taking out her phone to take photos of him (He actually smiled for the photo you see at the top of this post.) and then by sitting down with him and letting him play a game on her phone.  (As she told me this, I groaned out of recognition of where this was going.)  Sure enough, other kids began to come around, first to see what this little boy was doing, and then for a turn at the game.

To avoid the rapidly approaching chaos, Ashton took her phone back and put it up.  The little boy began to scream hysterically, and one of the caregivers (with whom Ashton was helpless to communicate what had just happened) came and snatched the little boy away. 

For the rest of their time together, Ashton tried to regain the angry little boy's favor.  During some of the later activities, he would not let her hold him, but he came near.  When it came time to say good-bye, he waved to her.  "I was glad he didn't hate me."

 

Just Someone to Listen

How many of these kids are holding on to anger like this little fella?  When the caregivers are concerned with the practical aspects of caring for the orphans and not the nurturing aspects (like showing affection and listening), it allows pent-up sorrow and loss to fester into anger.  I have read that, many times, caregivers don't know whether they should try to relate to the orphans in a personal way.  Bravo to AiYD and the university students with whom they partner for not only providing at least a little personal connection with the kids but for providing an example for those who care for the kids daily. 

Offer a prayer that these caregivers take a moment to listen, even in the busyness of their daily routine.  Offer a prayer that these kids find their way to a Father who already knows the sorrow and pain that they feel and loves them beyond what they can imagine.

Thanks for reading.

4theVoiceless,
Al

Mother's Day, Roger Staubach, and 10th Birthday Parties -- Updated May 14

Today marks the first anniversary of my first blog post, and it is also the 100th post on the 4theVoiceless blog.  I've had an ability to write (or at least so I've been told) since at least as far back as 7th grade, when I wrote sports stories for the Rankin County News.  That was also when I was a part of Mrs. Knight's English class (which I remember being harder than my junior level grammar class -- in college!).  Mrs. Scharr, my 11th grade English teacher and Beta Club sponsor, encouraged me to write and helped me to hone my still-developing craft.

However, no one has encouraged and challenged me to write over the years like my mom.  In every phase of my life -- high school, college, teaching, coaching, ministry -- Mom has always taken every opportunity to remind me of the skill that she has long recognized in me.

Whether she realizes it or not, my mother has made a significant contribution to the awareness of and movement toward this world's at-risk children through this blog.  In light of that (and also the impending date on the calendar), I choose to write about my mother today, keeping in mind that millions of children close to home and around the world do not have mothers who are actively engaged in their lives like mine continues to be.

Here are five reasons I appreciate my mom.  As you read them, think about five ways that you appreciate your own mother, and -- if you are still blessed with the opportunity -- tell her.

1.  Home Is Where the Mom Is

Growing up in Star, Mississippi, I never heard much talk about stay-at-home moms.  I just knew that Mom was there to cook breakfast; to provide milk and cookies when we kids got home from school; to cook supper; to put up all the peas, butter beans, and green beans that we so diligently shelled/snapped during the summer.  She was the one who came up with the chart that determined who among my two sisters, my brother, and me would be first in line to wait for the bus on a particular day when we couldn't seem to come to a consensus.  She was just always, you know, there . . .

2.   Worlds of Adventure

Mom was the one who read to us when we were little and bought us all clip-on lights for our beds so that we could read ourselves to sleep at night.  She was the one who taught us to spread out the quilt under the oak tree during the summer months, where we experienced the west through Laura Ingalls Wilder's books and where I experienced the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat through countless Matt Christopher sports books.  Mom took us to the Star Baptist Church parking lot every Wednesday to the bookmobile.  I read all the little orange biographies (and learned a little history in the process), and I probably checked out The Lucky Baseball Bat at least a dozen times.

3. 10th Birthdays and Such

There were four of us Ainsworth children, each separated by about a year from the one in front and/or behind.  (I'm the oldest; therefore, the most responsible . . . as I'm SURE my sisters and brothers would agree.)  We didn't have birthday parties every year, but on our 10th birthday, we got to invite some friends over to have the one party of our childhood; somehow, I didn't feel robbed of my right to have a birthday party on the other years  .

We also didn't get to raid the pantry and eat anything we wanted throughout our childhoods; Mom portioned out the cookies each day; somehow, I didn't feel robbed (though I would sneak an extra cookie or two from time to time).

I would lose this contentedness in my later teenage years, but I had a foundation to which I could (much) later return.

4.  Roger Staubach and That's About It

Mom has never been much of a sports fan, though my brother and I are still, in my Dad's words, "eat up with it."  Back during our childhood, the baseball game of the week came on TV at 2:00 most Saturdays (after rasslin' and Tarzan).  Mom would always make my brother and I clean our room before we watched the game.  Though it would only take us a few minutes once we got started, we agonized over the thought of missing even part of the game; Mom just didn't understand . . . .  The only interest I ever remember her having in sports was when Roger Staubach and the Dallas Cowboys were playing, not that I remember her watching very long, even then.

What I do remember about my mom and sports was that she didn't miss OUR games.  Sports were important to us, and we were important to her, so she went.  To this day, if her kids and now grandkids are involved in something, you can find her there at some level.

5.   Missions With Me

I recently went on my 10th mission trip, and my mom has been a part of most of them.  She hasn't actually traveled on any of them, but she has invested heavily in the work God has done and is still doing in Belize, Poland, Seattle, and Haiti -- and soon in Russia through my daughter.  She is also one of only a handful of people who really want to hear about my trips -- in detail instead of a cursory sentence or two.  If you have ever been on a mission trip, had God do a great work in and through you, and tried to relate that to someone who wasn't on the trip, you know to appreciate people like my mother.

This Mother's Day, Very Special Day

This Mother's Day falls on my 47th birthday.  Due to the effects of leap years, this is the first time in 11 years that this has happened and only the seventh time in my life.  So this Mother's Day is extra special to me and to my mother.  I love you, Mom.

Thanks for reading.

4theVoiceless,
Al

For a look at 4theVoiceless at one year, check out "God Stories: 4theVoiceless at One Year."

MOTHER'S DAY UPDATE

There was more that I could have written in the original post but that I had to keep revealed for a special purpose.  On Sunday, I took a day off from my church, got up early, and drove three hours to my mom's church.  She was in Sunday school, and no one was in the sanctuary.  I knew where she and Dad would be sitting (after all, they've sat in pretty much the same place for over 45 years), so I left a bouquet of flowers and a Mother's Day card with her name on it.  The card indicated that I wished that I could be with her on this special day and that I had simply made arrangements for her to get the flowers and card on Sunday.  (It never actually said that I wasn't or wouldn't be there; I am a man of principles, after all.)

After placing the flowers and the card, I left without anyone having seen me.  Having picked up a bulletin, I was able to know approximately when the congregation would have their greet time, so I planned my surprise entrance accordingly.  I wish I could have captured the look on my mom's face when I walked through the door.  Counting the return trip Sunday afternoon, I spent almost seven hours driving just for that moment -- all worth it!