Innocent- My joy!

Again, I am struck that it has been almost 2 months since I returned from Rwanda and still my heart melts at the thought of it.  There are so many fun stories and special memories.  For today, I'll share with you my FAVORITE!!

Innocent.  

My trip to Rwanda with Noonday Collection was also in part sponsored by Africa New Life, an organization started by a Rwandan family to help street kids get an education.  It has grown to be so much more and I will have to share about that another day. 

I found out about ANL about 5 years ago and we began sponsoring 2 children for food and education.  Our original child joined the army so we were paired with a new boy just last year.

I met him initially through letters and this picture.

OH MY GOSH THAT SMILE!!  

His first letter to us:

"My name is Maniriho Innocent.  I am 15 years old  I am in grade 6.  English is my best subject.  I would like to become Mayor after my studies.  I enjoy playing football.  I usually play number 7."  

Doesn't he sound like your son?  Just a normal kid!!  He is, until you realize that he is a refugee from Tanzania who under extreme circumstance was forced to leave his country and arrive in a new one to live on almost nothing.  These families are AMAZING!  There is something so similar in us and yet there, beyond the things I see that they DON'T HAVE, I find myself jealous of what they DO have.  The family exists on their income from farming of maize which is not much at all.  It's not enough for educating their children~ so that's where we come in!

 I looked over our itinerary and then back at the facts that ANL had sent me about Innocent.  It turned out that the day I would meet him in person was his 16th BIRTHDAY!!  How fun is that?  Children in poverty don't get big celebrations for their birthdays.  I'm sure they don't get birthday cake and it's highly unlikely that they receive gifts!  But I couldn't wait to shower this boy with love and make him know how important his sweet life is to me and to our Father!

On July 21st, we drove our huge bus of 25 Noonday Ambassadors up to the school in Kageyo.  We were greeted with a swarm of bright yellow shirts and brown faces with bright white smiles!  It was such joy!!  A path was created as the children divided and all of us walked through.  We were led to a room in the school facility.  Over on a small bench sat two children.  One was Innocent.  I wasn't prepared for the deeply maternal, overflowing and overwhelming joy I would have to see his precious face!  He jumped up and shyly and excitedly came to my side.  We embraced and could not stop smiling!  Oh the JOY!!  

As all 25 of us gathered in, I asked the social worker if we could sing Happy Birthday.  I am fairly certain Innocent had absolutely NO IDEA what was happening and why in the world all of these overly accessorized white women were singing and smiling and crying at the same time.  The love and affection from all of us for him was palpable!  The translator explained and he smiled.  To lavish love on this precious boy was about the most fun thing I could think of doing!  

He grabbed my hand and DID NOT LET GO all morning.  He led me around the school yard and I was able to meet his teacher and class mates.  This one is smart.  I can just tell!!  

After a time at the school we got back on the bus and traveled to his home.  What I expected to be a short ride turned into about a 30 minutes.  The whole time, I kept imagining him walking this distance.  I asked him if he walked this whole way.  "Yes, of course" he said.  Over and hour each way!!  So contrary to many of our little ones, these kids are MOTIVATED to get to school.  It is such a privilege for them!

We finally arrived to his home,  a red pressed mud box smaller than the size of my kitchen.  It was perfectly neat and empty except for a few bags of maize and a small wooden bench.  His parents greeted me and the two other brothers joined us.  I passed out gifts and showed them the pictures of my family.

I saved my favorite gift for last.  I handed it to his dad and explained that this book was a Bible written in Kenyarwandan and that it held words of life for them.  Innocent leaned over with an even bigger and brighter smile and whispered that He LOOOVED GOD!  (insert gasp of love)

It was like he wanted to jump for joy at the chance to read the awesome book.  But I'm not sure he would have much chance as the father held it and could not take his eyes off of it.  He teared up as his old, tired, and shaking hands tenderly caressed it's pages.  While no words were exchanged between Innocents father and I, a deep connection was made.  A mutual love for our Creator made us FAMILY in the deepest of ways!

The joy in this sweet home!!  I can't explain it!  

I was smitten!

When I got home, something new struck me.  There was an expected emotion that was missing from my time in Rwanda.  

Pity!!  

I not once felt it.

During our time in Rwanda we walked along dirt roads and sat in mud huts with children wearing clothes that were undoubtedly their only.  We danced with women who had survived rape and robbery of the deepest kinds.  We laughed with countless witnesses and survivors of the most HORRIFIC atrocities our minds could possibly imagine.  I mean the kinds that make your stomach rise up in your throat.  And I didn't feel pity?  Am I calloused and compassionless?

I pray no.  But the way these women and families exist with next to nothing and even the subtraction of basic human rights, and continue to fight through with JOY and EXUBERANCE!!??  

All I can say is that these experiences are so contrary to ANYTHING you have ever been a part of...and THAT will never leave you.

Oh, how I ache to go back.  Sweet Innocent!  Watch out Rwanda!  Your next Mayoral candidate is on his way!!

Rwanda Revisited

It has been about 1 month since I returned from Rwanda.  I got off of the plane and immediately immersed myself in family and business and the necessary preparations of getting 3 little ones back into school.  While in Rwanda I had so hoped to log my journey here in this blog, but I quite literally had no words as well as no time.  I thought I would come home and the words would flow but they didn't.

Now, as structure is back in place and the typical loads have been lifted, I find my heart and mind returning to the beauty of this land I love.

My plan is to share a few stories.  But for now, I will leave you with these few photos and my journal entry from the first day I arrived in the Land of A Thousand Hills.

July 18th, 2014

I watch as the crimson sun rises above the wispy clouds that cover the Thousand Hills and I gasp.  To believe that I am here is almost too much.  Driving the dark streets of Kigali to the guest house, it all felt so right, so normal.  It is where I belong.  I feel peace flood over me and a sense of ease and comfort that has to be from my God.

Tall women, some who look fit for the screen and then others

 with the beauty of age and African dignity and culture.  Colorful fabric wrapped like a crown on her head and a bundle of belongings resting effortlessly on top.  Beauty!  That is beauty to me.

My heart is full!!

This God, is all for your glory!  All of it!  

The crimson ball of fire resting gently on the horizon and the belongings resting effortlessly atop a woman's head whose story you have purposely written.  

And here our stories collide!

A Blank Canvas

In just over 36 hours, I have met 24 ambassadors from all over the US who join me in leaning into an adventure of a life time with hearts wide open.  There is a sisterhood that unites us because not only do we love beautiful jewelry (what woman doesn’t), but we LOVE advocating!  Advocating for purpose and hope and dignity among women who are fighting for their families and for food and a decent wage that they rightfully earn.  Today we got to meet 13 of  them. 

I am an observer.  I have known this about myself for as long as I can remember.  In large groups, I feel completely odd and as if I don’t belong.  I find myself on the outskirts looking in waiting for an opportunity to make my way into a smaller subset.  I need to know real things.  I want to hear real stories. 

So this morning, after a quick drive across town, we got out of our bus to a small brick building, with 12 women colorfully dressed standing in the doorway greeting us with cheers.  Immediately, I felt at odds with myself.  Wanting so badly to find my place on the outside, but so desperately wanting to soak up all that was happening on the inside of this amazingly rich circle.  I smiled.  I laughed.  I hugged.  I held.  And I stepped back.  AND LOST IT!!  My eyes saw beauty in their faces and sincerity of their laughter, but my heart saw Aliyah's birth mom. 

For the vast majority of children adopted from Rwanda, in the few years that it was open, police records show absolutely no trace of any living relative.  We in all likelihood, will never know Aliyah’s birth mother.  And so I am left without a face.  I am left with a blank canvas in which to craft my own version of  Aliyah’s first moments on the earth.  Her face is in no way well defined, but if I were an artist, I do believe today would be the beginning of inspiration to my drawing. 

Strong, resilient, warm, open, hopeful!  BEAUTIFUL!  Some were older with children mostly grown.  And some were just “girls” as they call women who are not yet married. 

My eye was drawn towards GRACE.  She is young.  Maybe 20.  Petite and cute with locs in her hair.  Shy and yet full of smiles…showing a longing to be loved.  I see her.  I showed her pictures of my Grace (the name given to Aliyah at the orphanage) and we immediately bonded over her name and lots of broken English and holding hands.  Later in the morning Grace came over to me, handing me a beautiful green wooden bracelet and said, “I love you!  I love your daughter”  And my heart was hers.  She jumped right in and has taken it away.

Later this evening, over dinner, we met our “Style for Justice” team who are a group of bloggers partnering this last week with Noonday Collection and International Justice Mission raising awareness and advocating for women who have been marginalized and mistreated;  wounded in the deepest of ways and victims of the most horrible injustices.  Joining us also were our sweet Noonday Artisan and their precious families.  

In addition, there was a small group of women going through the recovery program that IJM provides to counsel them through their trauma as well as resource them with employment such as a job with Noonday Collection.  

What a beautiful partnership!

I just have a feeling I will get to know more of Grace.   Maybe.  Maybe not.

But one thing I do know.  On the canvas of my image of Aliyah’s birth mom, a stroke has been painted. Strength, beauty, dignity, hope!

Tomorrow I will return to the building that housed my sweet baby and let’s just say now, I am about to be completely ruined!!  And somehow I can not wait!

The Land of A Thousand Hills is Calling Me Back

Back in 2011, what lay ahead of me was too much to take in.  It had been almost a year of planning, printing, paying, longing, testing, waiting, and preparing for our little baby to come to her forever home. That year held so much.  In it we longed to know her and be close to her.  We hurt for her loss and clung to hope that maybe we could be the slightest salve to her broken heart.  We pained for her birth mom and prayed blessings of hope and healing for her as well.  These two individuals had so much of our hearts and we didn't even know their names.  

In February, as we approached the blue gates that had sheltered this precious treasure, my heart raced.  It couldn't be real.  Those 9 days in Kigali were a complete rush of adrenaline and crazy hurt and hope for this beautiful baby I now finally held and began to call my own. We dashed about filling out papers and waiting in lines that might never end.  We navigated courts and policies and legislation and held our baby.  And we could not wait to go back home.  

Not because we didn't love it there, but because we longed to begin our life as a family of 5, complete. We longed to introduce our sweet girl to normal.  To love.  To home.  To being full and held and tickled and adored.  We ran home as fast as we possibly could.

And since then, my heart has LONGED to return.  Deep in my heart where it almost physically hurts, I've wanted to return to Rwanda.  So many friends have connections to this sweet land and the trips seemed all too numerous.  Watching Facebook posts of families meeting their sponsored children and knowing the beauty within this amazing country made me crazy.  Envious of the way I knew their heart beat while they were there, I knew my heart needed what they were getting and I was jealous.  

I would meet Africans here, almost feeling a magnetic surge to walk towards them and throw myself awkwardly into a friendship because I so longed to know Africa, Rwanda, my baby!!!  

And here I stand, 2 days away from boarding a plane that will yet again take me to this land that holds so so much!  

Strangely, if you've asked me in the last 5 months how I feel about it all, I would probably give you a pretty honest answer (that's the only way I know) and say that it feels strange.  My heart felt numb. Uninspired.  Unmoved.  And ashamed of it!!

I know, now that I am closer to this reality, that it just holds too much.  My heart knew that if it began to feel all that there is going on under the surface, that it truly might just burst.  So in a wise effort to protect itself, an emotional pace maker seemed to put itself in place; pumping rhythmically in robotic fashion just to get by.

Worried about this robotic motion of my preferably passionate self, I turned to books and movies to shock my heart back into motion.  And sure enough it is working.  I am feeling again and to be honest, it terrifies me.

My purpose in returning to Rwanda this week is BEAUTIFUL!!  Breathtaking!!  I work as an Independent Ambassador for Noonday Collection which is a company that uses fashion and design to help pull those in vulnerable places out of poverty.  It has been so fulfilling to advocate on behalf of these beautiful souls all over the planet.  I can imagine myself in previous travels seeing one of those souls on a street begging and wishing that my handful of change could do more.  And now, I get to be a part of amazing change and transformation by selling gorgeous jewelry and accessories that they make so that they can have a sustainable income, educate and feed their families restoring the dignity they deserve as God's creation! Pinch me!  It's such a great job!!  So I will meet our 12 Rwandan artisans in only days!!

Dually, as I'm going with Noonday Collection, Africa New Life is hosting us.  Africa New Life was our introduction to Rwanda before we ever even imagined adoption.  We sponsor two kiddos through them and watch as this amazing ministry continues to grow and bless and impact and change and truly turn a culture for the better!!  

For 8 days I get to soak up the sun and air of this wonderful land!  I will visit the homes of our sweet sponsored kids and be able to see them as so much more than a smiling face and sweet words that they write in their notes.  I will hug their necks and meet their families and bless them with my prayers and get to throw a little birthday party for my boy who just so happens to be turning 16 on the actual day I meet him.  Many Rwandans or maybe I should say most, don't have the luxury of birthdays.  I'm not sure just how to help him celebrate, but celebrate we will.  His life is worth that to be sure!!  Oh and he wants to become Mayor, so watch out!!

And this... In just 4 days from the moments that I write these words, I will again approach those infamous blue gates that once protected my daughter, my little 4 year old diva.  She was contained in these walls when the world was against her and though those assigned to her care did what they could, she did not have a family, nor someone to hold her when she cried. I tell people often about the short mattresses in the cribs in the baby room that allowed a 8-12 inch gap that the babies surely fell through to the concrete floor below.  I feel sure the big bump on my baby's forehead was testament to this.  It was a good place, but it was an incomplete holding ground for her trauma when no one could hear her hurt amidst the deafening cries of the15-20 others crying for their mommas to hold them too.  

I will walk in those gates and go behind those doors and look into those cribs...And can you see here why my heart might just prefer to be numb?  

So, it feels like this.  I am walking into this land that hold so much!  I have 7-8 days to capture it into my camera, and memory and heart.  I just don't think I can.  It's just too much.  

Having been starved for my return for 3 years now, I feel sure these days will not satiate my hunger.  It feels like I will bite off a crumb of bread from my steak dinner and leave in want.  

So will you go with me?  Will you help me to capture through a lens, words in an old dusty blog, the memory, the value, the purpose the dignity of life and meaning of these souls I so deeply care for?  

It will be an adventure and my heart may just feel ready to beat wildly again!

Linda...The Unexpected Blessing of Saying Yes

Over the last 4 years, God took my few "yes's" amidst many "no's" and something so crazy happened.  I made a friend named Linda! 

This January, Linda, at age 55 died.

Here is the story of our crazy adventure:

LINDA
This last December, I’d just had drinks with Jennie Allen.  We were driving home and I told her, “Yea, I think we are going to have my friend Linda over for Christmas. She lives over there in that ditch".  She looked at me and said, “I think that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard you say."

Let me tell you a little bit about Linda.

About 5 years ago, God was doing some crazy things in my life and dealing with an issue of mine; a wound called "invisibility" that I believed I carried from circumstances in my past.  What was crazy was that He was flipping that wound and opening my eyes to things that I had never seen before.  The "Invisible".  More specifically, a homeless community near my home.  It was as if God took my view of them…dirty; drunk; addicted; criminal and He put you.  Fragile; broken; lonely;  HUMAN! And I knew I had to get closer.

It was Christmas 2009.  We sat around a picnic table over pizza and Sprite and I remembered how silly I felt for waiting so long. We met Steve, Terry, Rose and Linda.  I didn’t have an agenda, I just wanted them to feel human. 

Linda was the one I saw.  My kids saw her.  She was a little thing, American Indian decent, dark, weathered skin, and a long braid turned dread running down her back.

Sometimes I would give her food, sometimes money, and once a hug.  I remember that day.  I saw her on the street in a place where I could pull over.  We chatted; the kids in the car hanging out of the window so they could be a part of our conversation.  My deepest desire was for her to know God’s love.  To know how He saw her.  As we talked I sensed her humanity growing in my eyes as well.  And then, I remember, she came in for a hug.  And I hesitated. But I gave in.  I think that was the day Linda became a friend. 

On cold days I’d drop off blankets by her ditch with a cardboard pallet that she called “home”;  I didn’t see her often but when it had been too long, I would get worried.  I knew her decisions weren’t always wise.  But I knew mine weren’t either.  So we prayed for her.  My little boy prayed for her.  He always prayed Linda would have a family! 

Linda had a family but they had been estranged for almost 20 years.  She had a husband but he’d been in prison for a long time.  For all practical purposes she was alone.

This winter I got a call from Linda on a very cold night asking if we would allow her to stay in our home.  “Of course”, I said, and then wondered.  But we picked her up and fed her hot soup and had a good conversation.  Linda had a lot to say.  She’d lived a very hard life as you can only imagine and wanted someone to know her story; Someone to be a witness.  That night I turned off the lights but never slept.  What have I done?  A boundary had been crossed and I was afraid. Was this safe?  My kids?  My neighbors? And did I want to be this close?

But God kept giving my grace.

A few weeks later, I saw Linda by her ditch.  She was excited!  She had a secret to share!  She’d been saving all of the money she’d made on the corner and was going to buy herself a drivable RV and move to Florida where she would start her new life off of the streets. And it was her birthday.  She was 52.  So, we decided to celebrate.   Dinner at Luby's!

That night we talked about Christmas.  Linda didn’t have any plans and neither did we.  She would come over, we’d cut off her braid, give her some make up and get her some Noonday accessories to complete her look :o)

When Christmas came around, Linda wasn’t to be found.  But I didn’t worry.  I was relieved. So Christmas came and went.  

On Dec 31^st at 6 am, the phone rang.  It was Linda crying.  It had been a cold night and she said she was frozen.

My husband picked her up and brought her to our house.  She literally couldn’t walk.  There was no feeling in her feet.  We tried unsuccessfully to warm her body past her 94 degree body temperature but decided it was time to head the ER.  The Dr’s said she had an extremely bad case of pneumonia and that we’d actually just barely saved her life.  That night I left the ER thinking how awful this was, but so grateful she was going to be ok.

The next day I went to see Linda in the ICU.  Her eyes wide and her words few.  She pulled back the sheets to show me.   Her legs were black.  “They have to cut off my legs”, she said. My heart sank and my brain spun.  The doctor and nurse took me aside to share that there was a blood clot in her aorta and that her body was dead from the belly button down!  Her time on earth was over.

So we rallied.  We found her husband and got him to the hospital.  Her words to him, I’ll never forget.  For years she had awaited his release and today was her first day to lay eyes on him.  I stood behind him as he walked in the door and watched as her eyes met his.  Unexpectedly, they were wide and urgent; and her finger pointed.  “I need to talk to you” she said.  “You’ve got to do business with Jesus Christ!!  Because you just never know when something like this could happen to you!”  

Linda was a spunky little fighter and passed away January 7^th.

I don’t know why God had my paths cross with Linda’s.  But I do know that Jesus saw her and He gave me eyes to see her.  But I really think what I saw because of Linda, was Jesus!

Matthew 25:37-40

37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

And then there was this!  How in the world did this happen?  A sweet friend named Jennie Allen seems to always have a way with making my life just a wee bit uncomfortable.  But to me, this was just another "YES" in a long line of choices of obedience with Linda.  For some reason, He wants her story to be told.  I don't really know the why's.  But why doesn't seem to matter too much right now.  

I'm learning to say "yes" in the moments that God gives me.  I say "no" all of the time.  But it's in the "yes's" that I have the most fun!

No More Vitamins!

So it's been one month since I started Noonday Collection.  It took 2 weeks to get going and now I feel like I'm pretty much in full swing.  For one month straight, I feel like I've been smiling!  When I walk around school to pick up the kids, I feel self-conscious that maybe I'm smiling too much.  Kind of wearing a, "I want to sell you something" face.  But it's genuine and real!  I keep telling people that Noonday has been like the better than any "energy vitamin" out there.  I'm full.  

I feel full because look at these great women I get to represent.  Seriously, who gets a job like this?  Maybe you think I'm crazy because you personally, wouldn't get a kick out of this.  But here's how I see it.  These people are artists.  They have amazing skills and amazing talents.  They have something to say through their medium of art.  But who is listening?  We in America, tend to have that, "I demand to be heard" attitude and I believe for many in our world, the thought has never crossed their mind.  Not because they don't want to be heard or even ache for it, but maybe because it has never happened to them and they can't dare hope it to be possible.

I get the biggest kick out of helping you to hear the unheard and see the unseen.  CHECK THEM OUT!  They are beautiful and worth it!!

And so you see them.  Wonderful souls making it by the skin of their teeth most of them.  With very little job opportunity, possibly no education, and small amounts of resources, they show up.  And they get trained.  They earn money.  They feel hope.  They find community.  They lift their heads.  And get this, they pass it on.  And they grow.

And here's what we get out of the deal

Pretty amazing if I do say so myself!!

Check us out:

www.laurachoy.noondaycollection.com