tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13850265563780718082024-03-13T08:10:11.882-07:00Broken and BeautifulJoin me on this broken journey. To seek beauty...genuine, authentic, rare beauty!Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-3690567519019602742013-08-16T13:59:00.000-07:002013-08-16T14:53:28.877-07:00When it's NOT what you had expected<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">It was my
first day working in the all girls cottage at Tanager Place- a Psychiatric Medical Institute for Children- PMIC. I was fresh out of treatment myself just a few months prior and was ready to come in as a treatment counselor and
save some lives. I was going to love these girls and teach them everything
everyone had taught me, we were going to bond and I was going to walk away
feeling so good about myself because I helped someone. Ummm…yeah, all that….accept
not.<span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I had all
but 15 minutes with the staff before the girls would walk in from school. Today
was my day to shadow. Get a feel for how things would run, begin to get
acquainted with the girls, become familiar with the
rules/structure/schedule/levels/consequences……well just EVERYTHING. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">In less than
an hour we had multiple tantrums. One girl was throwing juice everywhere
because she was pissed due to something that happened at school. Another was
throwing chairs because she </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">didn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> want to go to the scheduled recreation and
then lodging herself underneath the couch so no one could get to her. The “juice
thrower” escalated a bit more and began throwing DVD’s at my head because I
tried to talk to her. There was yelling,
cussing, slamming doors, crying, biting, kicking, spitting, hair pulling----there
were 12 girls total that we were trying to manage. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I left work
that night in tears. “What on earth did I sign up for?” “I can’t do this” Total
let-down from when I walked in the doors to start my shift that day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">That was 6
yrs ago and I ended up being there for 5 years.
However, in the beginning, nothing was ever what I expected it to be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">January of
2011 I was in Haiti. A baby boy on the brink of death was placed in our arms.
My team loved him and cared for him and slowly nursed him back to health. I
stayed behind once my team left to help care for him around the clock. He needed
hourly tube feedings. I expected to fall madly, deeply in love with this
boy---and I did. I </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">didn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> expect that when I left that his parents would come
to the children’s home and gather him up and travel to the Dominican, cross the
border illegally, without any means to feed him and make sure that he was
remaining stable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Fast forward
with me to when I resigned from my position to up and move to Uganda for 4
months (last May). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I was scared
to death, but so full of anticipation and excitement of what this next journey
would bring. I expected to feel happy and thankful once I arrived and that I
would feel that I was actually offering something to those that I was serving
and working with. I already had a deep love ingrained in me from my previous
trips to Uganda. But after I left my missions team and traveled up north, where
I was going to spend the next 4 months, darkness covered me. I </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">didn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> want to
be there. I wanted to go home. I was tired, dirty, hungry, taking cold showers
and going to bed in fear every night thinking that one of these nights a creepy
crawly was going to shimmy its way through my mosquito net. I PUSHED my way
through those 4 months. Unmet expectations sky rocketed with every passing day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Now, here I
am in Austin, TX running Legacy House. I often get asked “Is it what you
expected?” To be honest, I </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">didn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> have a whole lot of expectations because I </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">wasn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> quite sure exactly what was about to happen. <b>But lo and behold you
sure learn quickly that you DO have expectations when all of the sudden they </b></span><span style="line-height: 18px;"><b>aren't</b></span><b style="line-height: 115%;"> being met</b><span style="line-height: 115%;">. I have learned that when you start thinking “I </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">wasn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> expecting to feel this way or for this girl to act this way or (fill in the
blank)” that is a darn good sign that you need to figure out what you WERE
expecting---proof that you already a preconceived idea of what it was going to
look like. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">It’s
impossible to not enter into something or walk through your daily life without
expectations. We all have them and we all have unmet expectations. It WILL
happen. The challenge I find myself in right now is asking, “What are you going
to do with these unmet expectations?” Even bigger “What are you going to let
God do with these unmet expectations?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Today if you
emailed me or picked up the phone to call me and asked, “</span></span><i style="line-height: 115%;">Hey, is everything
what you expected it to be at Legacy House?</i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">” You would get </span></span><i style="line-height: 115%;">“Hell no!</i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">” BUT that </span></span><span style="line-height: 18px;">doesn't</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> necessarily mean it is bad. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Another key point I am learning right now:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Just because
it is not going as planned or expected does NOT mean that it is BAD. But it
also does not mean that it is good. It is what it is. All the time we feel like
we have to put a label on it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I am
learning that MY expectations are just that—MINE. Through all the situations
God had me walk through, I had a very clear expectation that I wanted to be met
FOR ME. Ugh—sometimes it makes me sick with how utterly selfish and
self-focused I can be. BUT in each of those periods of my life it was through
the unmet expectations, the brokenness that I felt that turned me to the face
of God. I NEEDED Him. I NEED him NOW. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>I am
learning to not bury my head, stomp my feet or cover my ears. Rather—lifting up
my head and falling on my knees. I want to know what HIS expectations are and I
can’t get to that place if I am still consumed with what mine are. </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">He is
stripping me completely right now. Seriously, to threads. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I </span></span><span style="line-height: 18px;">didn't</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> expect to already see girls leave, to become so attached, to feel my
depression slowly creep its way back in, to not want to come back to the house after
a day out, to know that this will never feel normal. I </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">didn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> expect that the
amount of emotional energy that I would need to exert over and over and over
again would happen over and over and over again. I </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">didn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> expect to feel so
alone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I am not
saying any of this to feel pity. Oh no…I am saying this because I know WE HAVE
ALL BEEN THERE. I am tempted to say that God promises that this will pass….but
now I am not so sure if that is really a promise or just something that I have
always heard. This struggle this year might not pass and I have felt the nudge
of God reminding me of that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>He purposely shakes me up to get me down. Down
on my face. Down on my knees. Down where
I no longer can hold to my expectations anymore….only to lay them down once
again.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I remember
when I returned home from Uganda and was on the job search. Coming off of being in a third-world country
the need for God often felt great. But every-time I come back home to America I
somehow don’t need God anymore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I prayed a
prayer (a scary prayer) while I waited to see where God wanted me next.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>“God,
whatever it is that you have next for me, please let it be something that makes
me need you”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-34066967256450481352013-07-01T07:12:00.000-07:002013-07-01T07:16:01.320-07:00We survived the first week!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Well, we survived the first week together! Everyone is
alive, has been fed and still talking to each other…success! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It definitely does NOT feel normal yet, and I know it
will take some time. Honestly, right now it feels as though I am just housing
some girls for a bit and then they will leave. But they won’t actually leave.
This is my new life. Overwhelming, exciting and hard. I know that I said “yes”
to this, fully aware of the challenges and the sacrifices that will have to
made, but it doesn’t make it any easier. However, one thing I have learned:
When God leads me on a path where there is fear, doubt, stretching and crying
in the night questioning if He really thinks that I can do this……He ALWAYS
comes through. I wake up feeling His new mercies, there is strength when I
thought I had nothing left, and He sends multiple blessings along the way. We always
question God when we are the midst of pain and struggle…always wondering what
the ultimate purpose is. I have been given new eyes. When I glance back on the
journey I have been on, even this first week with the girls, there is a
confidence in God that would never be present in my life if it wasn’t for the
things I walked through in my life up to this point. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s like childbirth. <strong>The pain, the struggle, the pushing…..and
then a beautiful blessing</strong>. The first time you don’t know what to expect. It’s
new, so intense and I’m sure it feels like the pain will never end (I’m
assuming here since I have never given childbirth). But then you have a second
or maybe a third, and with every birthing experience you know that there will
be pain. You are fully aware of the pain you will walk through and can recall your
past experience to provide confidence to keep moving forward until that baby is
there, melting in the calming relief of holding the blessing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So it is with our life. With every experience I believe
that God is preparing us for the next thing…and we need to be able to look back
and see how we pushed out the baby before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I am remembering all the times that I have had to PUSH in
the past as I am here with 3 teenage girls (soon to be 4). I had no idea how
emotional that it was going to be for me the first week that they were here. I
was crying because I was so happy they were here, crying because of all the
hard work leading up to this point, crying because I was lonely, crying because
I wanted space…..well, you name it, I was crying about it! Want me to be
honest? Ok, I was really crying because I was grieving what once was and will
not be for a while. Selfish I know. Here I am, thinking about me and what
I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>am losing….when I have 3 teenagers who
have lost so much, who haven’t had a voice in years, over 30+ placements….and
all I can think about is ME.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Funny how when all of the sudden it’s not about you
anymore, that all you can think about is YOU! It has been about me for 30
years. Being single and no kids you don’t have to worry or think about anyone
else. I haven’t lived with anyone since 2005. I have always thought about what
a HUGE adjustment it would be to get married after 30 (or more, oh God please
don’t make it 40) years alone….well, yup…it’s gonna be tough. I think God is
showing favor on my husband as He has me walk through this first </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>My selfishness has smacked me in the face this week. It’s
like I have mirrors now all over</strong>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But the mirrors that I have are wonderful. They are 3
strong, beautiful, courageous girls. They have pushed more than I ever have or
will ever have to. They have lost parents, family members, been torn down,
given up on and never thought that they would make it alive to 18. There is a
sober face when they talk about where they have been, but radiate and beam when
they talk about where they are GOING. There is a sense of pride that has been
absent for so long. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We have joined hands this week, laughed and cried. We are
ready to walk this road together. There will be many moans and groans from all
the pushing that will have to occur….but in the end there will be the most
spectacular blessing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-35159945177748027612013-05-30T11:59:00.001-07:002013-05-30T12:51:44.779-07:00Will you join me?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
have recently made the huge move to Austin, TX! I was given the most incredible
opportunity to be the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Program Director </i>and<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Foster Parent</i> for a pilot program,
Legacy House. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Legacy House provides young women
transitioning out of foster care a safe home environment where they are
supported physically, emotionally and spiritually, with the hope they will
achieve sustainable, personal, academic, and </span><a href="http://www.legacyhouseaustin.org/why-legacy-house.htm"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">independent
living</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> goals. These young women will work
towards completing high school, moving on to college or a technical school,
employment and then into safe, sustainable independent housing.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8TRkEqXG_iU/UaehSSBg_8I/AAAAAAAAAR8/SKZN6KCaDBo/s1600/LH1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8TRkEqXG_iU/UaehSSBg_8I/AAAAAAAAAR8/SKZN6KCaDBo/s320/LH1.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Empowering young women to unlock their own life legacies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">They
moved me here and I have hit the ground running since March 16<sup>th</sup>!</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I have been working closely with my Board Chairwomen
to get this program off the ground. These past two months have been filled with
developing mission, vision, logo, program goals and objectives, program
manuals, website, strategic planning, meeting possible girls, becoming a
licensed foster parent, setting up the home, etc. I am thrilled to be a part of
structuring this new, one of a kind, unique program for young women
transitioning out of foster care. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
have realized that God has called me here to care for the orphan, just like he
did when I spent time in Uganda. Sometimes, they are in our own backyards.</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Through the years working at Tanager Place, I witnessed so
many young women in foster care bounce around in the system, never experiencing
permanency and ultimately walk away with no plan for the future, hopeless and
without meaning. Young women in foster care have all odds against them and
without someone taking their hand, believing in them and teaching them the
necessary life skills <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">they become part
of the grim statistics of poverty, homelessness, sex trafficking, prostitution
and incarceration. <o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It was time to bridge the gap for
these young women! The gap—residential foster care to independent living—is a
crucial, transitional time for these young women. This is why Legacy House was
created! These young women can come live in a beautiful, residential
neighborhood…in a HOME! It is safe for us to say that <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">this type of program has <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never</i>
been done before with this type of collaboration and support!<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center">
<strong>HOW CAN YOU HELP?</strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I signed on for this position knowing that
there were no funds for salary, due to being a brand new <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pilot Program</i>. Being the Program Director and Foster Parent is more
than a full-time job. Not only am I living in the home with the girls,
investing in them, assisting them to achieve their goals and providing
emotional support; I am also working on program development, fundraising for
Legacy House, meeting partners and creating ways to sustain and grow this
program. Our hope and desire is that this program will be able to be replicated
many times over in the next couple of years. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
am asking you, for this first Pilot Year, if you would come on board and be a
financial partner, supporting me as a full-time urban missionary for the orphan
right here in Texas!<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I need to raise $25,000 for my
salary for this first year as I work to sustain this program. I am looking for
significant anchor partners ($2000-$5000) and monthly partners ($25, $50, $100).
Would you consider being a financial partner? <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">All donations are tax-deductible</i><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Your financial support will
communicate to these very special young women that we believe in them and are
for them.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">29%
of the children exiting the foster system each year are in some way being
sexually exploited,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">50%
of aged out foster teens will become homeless within the first year <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">3%
attain a college degree<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Will you help me
help them?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Visit my personal support page from
the Legacy House website</span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 1in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.legacyhouseaustin.org/meet-our-program-director.htm"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.legacyhouseaustin.org/meet-our-program-director.htm</span></span></b></a><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Click on “Consider Supporting Kari”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 1in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Enter Credit Card Information<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I hope that you decide to come with me on this wild, crazy, exciting journey!
Thank you and many blessings!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Kari Hamilton<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-8106757510784278652013-05-29T18:20:00.000-07:002013-05-29T18:20:04.166-07:00The Invitation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A little over a year ago I was on the phone with Jan
Meyers-Proett, author of Allure of Hope and Listening to Love, and among the wisest
of therapists. We were digging pretty deep and I mean down in the trenches. We
were dissecting some recent happenings and the conversation was revolving
around my future husband. Of course, through the years I had created “lists” in
my head, thoughts on who I desired him to be. But this time it was different.
Jan was asking hard questions. Who are you in response to him? How do others
respond to you two together? Name very specific characteristics about him. How
are you together, physically, emotionally and spiritually? What words come to
my mind when you think of being in his presence?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That same day after I hung up with Jan, I immediately thought
of this poem. It had been 5 years the last time I had read it, but it instantly
filled my mind. I dug it out of an old journal and poured over it. The longing
was so deep…yes, so much of what is written in the poem is what I desire between
my husband and I. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Read it. Savor it. It is a call to passion; such raw and
honest emotion. It is so rightly titled, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Invitation</i>, as I feel that this poem beckons us to live deeply, asking us
to want more, to live profoundly together. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Invitation by
Oriah<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It doesn’t interest me how old you are. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for
love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you have touched the center of your own
sorrow<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have
become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your
own, without moving to hide it, or fade it or fix it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you can be with joy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">mine or your own and if you can dance with wildness<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers
and toes<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">without cautioning us to be careful </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">to be realistic<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">to remember the limitations of being human.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is
true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true
to yourself<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray
your own soul<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">if you can be faithless and therefor trustworthy.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not
pretty every day<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and if you can source your own life from its presence.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and
mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and shout to the silver of the full moon, “yes”.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I</span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">t doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much
money you have.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief
and despair<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be
done to feed the children.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be
here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you will stand in the center of the
fire with me and not shrink back.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you
have studied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all
else falls away.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if
you truly like the company you keep<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">in the empty moments.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
</div>
Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-23562939827570870832013-05-23T22:29:00.000-07:002013-05-23T22:29:00.960-07:00Journey to Legacy House- part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Feb 25<sup>th</sup> 2013<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Brandon
Hatmaker: “Here’s the deal. We want you”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Me:
“Seriously!??!?!?” (Professional response, I know)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Rewind
to October 2012:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
just returned from spending 4 months in Uganda. I resigned from my position as
a Treatment Counselor in a Psychiatric Residential Facility where I had been working
just shy of 5 yrs to be able spend those 4 months in Uganda. The whole process
had God’s fingerprints all over it and so <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">obviously</i>
everything was going to fall into place when I returned…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">So
not the case (it did, but just not in MY timing). One month went by, then
another. No job. No clear direction. Confused. Begging God for some answers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It
was such a battle of trying to figure out how all the pieces of the puzzle were
going to fit together. I love Uganda. I had been going for the past three years
and then spending 4 months there was incredible. So much of my heart was there.
BUT….I loved being home too. I have such a strong desire and passion to work
for the hurting here in America.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Wait
a sec! Nashville! That’s where I am supposed to be!” This is where Exile
International is based and I wanted to be close to the team to still be
involved, yet get a full time counseling job. I had a few interviews, one was
very promising and she was going to start calling my references. I kind of
panicked and realized I was moving ahead in this and I had no peace from God to
move forward. I called and told her that I just couldn’t make the move to Nashville.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">God
and I had a few more conversations. I wondered if I should truly step out and
fundraise full time to work in Uganda with Exile. Again, such an unsettling
feeling with no clear “yes, go in this direction” from God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">He
was constantly reigning me in. Holding me back. Making me stay right where I was
in my cozy little condo in Cedar Rapids, IA. I was not too happy about this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“God,
you know I don’t belong here in IA” (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">insert
giggles from God)</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“I
want something so much bigger. I know you know this! I know you understand my
desire and passion to be a part of change and movement! God, if I am not
supposed to be in Uganda, please let me have a job that I am just as passionate
about….the things YOU are passionate about…bring it Lord” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Just wait, Kari<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“What
am I waiting for?!?!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">November,
December, January--- no job. I am filling in as a secretary (first impression
specialist) at my Dad’s company. And if any of you know me, I’m sure you
realize how absolutely miserable I was. Nothing against my dad’s company, but
sitting at a desk and answering phones all day???? Oh I wanted to crawl out of
my skin.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Then,
I FINALLY get a job offer to be a Functional Family Therapist.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Is
this what God was having me wait for?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
put on a fake smile, accepted and succumbed that this was just temporary.
Surely, God still had something else up His sleeve. I even remember my facebook
post that I wrote after I accepted this job, stating that I was confident that
even though I am still in Cedar Rapids, IA taking this new job, that God was
still going to reveal His ultimate plan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Don’t
get me wrong, it was wonderful to be able to be fully trained and to practice a
whole new level of therapeutic intervention with families. But it still didn’t
feel right. I still felt stuck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It
is now the end of January. I just returned from attending a new training for my
job in Connecticut. I am home in my condo and skimming through my newsfeed on
Facebook. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Jen
Hatmaker (I wish I could remember what friend of mine posted something of Jen’s
about a yr ago that led me to “like” her page. If I could remember, you would
get a big fat hug and thank you!) just recently posted about a position pertaining
to this new program called, Legacy House, with a link to Brandon’s Blog. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
went to check it out. With every sentence that I was reading, my heart was pounding
just a little bit harder. I found myself agreeing to everything I was reading.
My passion was increasing and I was remembering all the faces of girls that I
had worked with in the past in the residential facility. Girls in the foster
care system, some that were not, but completely broken, no hope, no safety net,
no encouragement; stuck with families or shelters that continued to break them
down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
love them. So much. I never thought that I would work in residential for as
long as I did. It was brutal at times. Kicked, spit on, hair pulled so hard my
scalp would bleed, skin torn apart from being bit, scars due to their nails
being dug in my skin. It took about a year to develop some thick skin to deal with
all of it. But when you can learn to see more than their behaviors, more than
their pain that is speaking…..then you can truly see their worth and what they
are capable of. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Brandon wrote about their desire to have a
Resident Director come to Austin, TX to live in the home with 4 girls at a time
that were transitioning out of foster care. I walked away from my computer, not
sure what to do with it all!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">A
couple hours had passed. I knew it was my passion, but the timing just seemed
terribly off. I JUST started a new job!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“God, I have no idea if this is at all what
you have been telling me to wait for, but I’m just going to submit my info.
That’s it. There are thousands of people seeing this post. Nothing is going to
come of it, but thanks for letting me read about this!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ha!
I bet God was just having a blast with all of this. I submitted my info and
then went on my merry way honestly thinking I was never going to hear anything,
truly!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Jan
31<sup>st</sup> I receive an email from Brandon stating that I was put in the
top 5 and he would like to chat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
was shocked, totally taken back. Initially, I had no idea what to think. I
honestly never thought I was going to hear anything and so I really never
thought seriously about the whole thing! Could I really do this? Is this truly
why God has been telling me to wait? Is Austin, TX where I am supposed to be??<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
fervently began seeking God about all of this. For the first time since
returning from Uganda in October I felt the path open up before me and God
telling me “yes, go….this is where I want you to walk.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">We
chatted and then I flew out to Austin for an interview….completely terrified! I
don’t think I had ever been more nervous in my life. I contemplated some wise advice
that was given to go take a shot before the interview to calm my nerves, but
settled that starbucks might be better. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
had a week to wait until I was going to hear back. I kid you not, EVERY DAY
something happened that pointed to Austin. I would open a book and the first
sentence would be about Austin, TX. My mom called and said she was reading the
local paper and Austin, TX was listed as one of the top places to visit. I was
flying home after training from CT and the girls sitting next to me were from
Austin. I was convinced that either God was playin’ me or that He was continuing
to affirm that this was His plan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Feb
25<sup>th</sup> 2013<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Brandon:
“Here’s the deal, we want you”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">March
15<sup>th</sup> 2012<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
packed up my condo, brought my necessary belongings and hit the road for
Austin, TX! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
</div>
Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-40391059967525421092013-03-22T21:08:00.000-07:002013-03-22T21:09:18.247-07:00Man's Idea or God's Idea?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hindsight is 20/20, right? I love when I can look back at
various processes and be able to so clearly see exactly what God was up to!
Sometimes we have no clue until years down the road, and other times it smacks
you in the face. There is so much about this journey that I am on right now
that helps me make sense of certain events in the past and present. It is
absolutely wild! I love how God does this…and the more we say “yes” the wilder
the ride! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love good stories. And to have good stories it most often
involves some crazy drama, humor, mistakes, out of the box ideas, risk-taking,
etc. My good friend Kari Gibson (</span><a href="http://www.mycrazyadoption.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri;">www.mycrazyadoption.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">,
check her out!) will tell you that on every trip we take, whether it’s to
Uganda, Ethiopia or Haiti…I always pray for crazy drama so that I can have a
good story to tell. Most don’t like that I do that </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> And if I remember correctly,
right after I was telling Kari G this while standing in the security line headed
to Uganda, she realized that she couldn’t get through security because she was
given the wrong ticket. I do believe I was shortly sent a text message with a
swear word in it blaming me as she was running around the airport (sorry to
“out” you , sinner) </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">God has a pretty good (actually perfect) track record of
catching me, leading me and guiding me. You might want to try Him out in this
area if you haven’t yet </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
I so want to take the time one of these days and list out every possible way
that He has proved himself faithful and loving and had me wait so he could give
me the absolute best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t always believe
this about God. <strong>In fact, I had so much shame in my life that I couldn’t even
fathom that this all-powerful, majestic, mighty God would actually want to
lower himself to meet me, cradle me, wipe my tears, sing over me and lead me to
the pastures of such an overwhelming, magnitude of grace.</strong> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t make sense of who He was and what
my role as His daughter looked like. I had this deep, unsettling feeling that
for me to love Jesus that I had to completely change <em>everything</em> about me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Me- adventure
seeker, adrenaline junkie, risk-taker.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Is my life going to succumb to being a
just a bible study leader? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do I just need to nail down how to have my hour
quiet time in the morning? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">How many girls do I need to disciple?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> This was all
that was being modeled around me. Please, I get that this is all good, but
there is SO MUCH MORE! I felt like I was stuffing so much of who God created me
to be to fit into this so called Christian box. I hated it. I fought it. I
experienced leaders in Christian ministry judge and hurt others. Where was the
love? Where was the freedom? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I continued
to question over and over again, “God, there has to be so much more.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Africa 2010. This trip awakened my heart and made me feel
more alive than I had ever felt before. Passion, desire and anger engulfed me
as I witnessed the events around me. I began to feel the heart of God and what
He truly desires of all of us. LOVE. He wants us to LOVE. To sit with the broken,
wash the feet of a prostitute, giggle with an orphan, comfort the widow….to be
His hands and feet.<strong> </strong>God showed me that who I was, was O.K. Who I was, was
enough to be used. That my intense passion, strong-willed, adrenaline seeking
self was everything that He wanted to use to bring others to himself. He wanted
me to throw the rules out the window and to run with abandonment. ….every
single part of me that He knitted and wove together.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <strong>God didn’t want me to fit
in some man-made idea that others had constructed and influenced regarding what
it meant to live for Him. Man is full of error, God is perfect</strong>. And let me tell
you. When you can get to this place, the amount of freedom that washes over you
is so immense! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was on the phone with Kari G a few days leading up to the
most recent trip we took to Ethiopia/Uganda this past summer. Some events from
my past had surfaced and I found myself in a place of despair and pain. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was shaken, confused, and I thought I had
moved on and dealt with all of this years ago. I was about take the biggest
risk of my life with just recently quitting my job to spend 4 months with exile
international in northern Uganda working with former child soldiers. So
obviously, there was some spiritual attack going on as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">7 years ago I was supposed to go on my first trip to Africa.
The same thoughts that I was openly sharing with Kari were the ones that I
shared 7 years ago and was told that I could <strong>not</strong> go to Africa. My thoughts were
apparently <em>too</em> sinful and apparently no one else ever struggled in ways of
thinking. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The words out of Kari’s mouth
were the exact words that I know God wanted me to hear. You see, Kari didn’t
know that what I was sharing with her was what got me “kicked off” the Africa trip
years ago. Her response: “Kari, there is NOTHING that you can say right now
that would ever make me question having you come on this trip. NEVER think that
you can’t be used by God because of something you are walking through. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want you to be on this team even MORE
because of this place you are in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>THAT is LOVE. That is
JESUS. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My favorite stories have God’s fingerprints all over them.
You know the ones. Where you can’t make sense of anything, or explain why…it’s
just God doing His thing. Now those are my favorite ones to tell….and more of
that in my next post: Journey to the Legacy House.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My challenge to you: Are you running after and serving God
through a man-constructed idea, or God’s idea?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></i></div>
</div>
Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-24767842834139010042013-02-28T18:04:00.000-08:002013-02-28T18:08:00.511-08:00National Eating Disorder Awareness Week--My Story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bJUftuzFUYY/UTANXVcm8DI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/7GlicpL2HmQ/s1600/eating-disorders-blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bJUftuzFUYY/UTANXVcm8DI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/7GlicpL2HmQ/s320/eating-disorders-blog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It all
started on 1/16/07. I walked into Eating Disorder Center of Denver helpless,
hopeless and in a state of severe depression. I truly wanted help, but was
completely terrified to give up all my control and to receive the healing that
I needed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You see, it
had been a very long road up until this point. I am not going to get into the
depths of the “why’s” and “how’s” of how this all developed. But will give you
a glimpse of what my greatest heart’s desire was which led me down this very
destructive path. What you find with most individuals that have had an eating
disorder, is that it starts out meeting one need and as the addiction
intensifies it begins to take on a whole new level of meaning, ultimately taking
over your entire life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wanted to
be noticed. I wanted to be heard. This is a very common desire for most of us,
but mine runs so very deep. I didn’t know how to communicate that in words and
what started out as a very innocent way of controlling my looks turned into a
vicious never-ending cycle of addiction. It started as a way of managing fear
and then turned into meeting all my needs (so I thought) in my life. I had control;
oh I had so much control! When things around me were spiraling down, at least I
had control of my body. If I wanted to feel empty inside, I could make that happen.
If I wanted to feel full, I could make that happen. I know you always hear that
it’s not about the food….it really isn’t. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the time
I had entered treatment, I was going on 5 years of being in an entangled, terrorizing
relationship with my eating disorder. The weeks leading up to treatment were by
far the worst. I just stopped going to work because I couldn’t get out of bed.
I stopped all contact with friends. I was very suicidal (and was mad at myself
because I didn’t have the guts to end my life) and began cutting to release all
the emotional intensity on the inside (and of course it was a cry for help). 5
years of weight loss pills (led to racing heart), laxative abuse (many years of
GI problems), over-exercising, binging, purging, restricting….over and over and
over again. I was what they would call “EDNOS, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise
Specified”. I was all over the map and bouncing back and forth between bulimia
and anorexia. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I remember
entering treatment and being so upset with myself. I was not at my goal weight
and I was set on getting there and THEN going to get help. Do you want to know
what I thought success looked like? A hospital bed. Yup, I thought that if I
could get sick enough to get in a hospital bed then that would be enough (Oh
sweet Jesus thank you for saving me). I highly doubt that if I would have made
it to a hospital bed that I would have felt satisfied. That’s the thing with
this addiction and any addiction…..it’s never enough. Once you meet your first
goal weight, then you come up with another goal weight!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had to
come face to face with my eating disorder while in treatment, and let me tell
you, it was not PRETTY!! I fought hard! Oh I was hanging on to dear life to
what I thought defined me. I yelled, I slammed doors, I walked out of treatment….I
look back now and I can’t even recognize who that was. Can you blame me though?
I have such a deep understanding of addiction ever since walking this journey. It
was my life, my savior, my friend, my confident….I needed something else to
come in and replace it, I couldn’t just remove it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Things began
shifting for me when I met Celeste. She was in her 40’s though she looked so
much older due to many, many years enslaved to her eating disorder. She just
came from the hospital when she entered the treatment facility. She had to walk
with a cane because she was so weak and her bones were so brittle. I was
jealous when I first saw her. She did it. She got there. But then, I started to
listen to her during our process group. As she painted the picture of what it
was like in the hospital, for the first time something clicked inside of me. I
used to glamorize the picture of making it to the hospital bed. When Celeste
spoke about it, everything changed. A veil was literally lifted from my eyes
and I began to see the reality of it all. Do I really want to die from this?
There has to be more for my life! I want more for my life!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Celeste and
I kept in contact after I discharged, and a few months later when she left she
passed away from her eating disorder. I was devastated and completely
heart-broken that her eating disorder won. The same story has repeated itself
with many others that I knew in treatment, most ending their life in suicide. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This will be
a book if I go into what recovery looked like for me, but what I will say was
that it was a long road. There were set-backs and relapses and all out fights
on the floor with me shaking my fists at God not thinking that I could do this.
But you know what? I did. God came in and rescued me in a million different
ways….someday I will share all of those, but while I was in treatment I found
God for the first time. For the first time in my life I chose God for myself,
not for someone else. I decided that who I was, who God created me to be, was
enough. Please hear me when I say all this. I am not saying that everything was
great after this realization or that I just “prayed it away”….oh it was work.
It was a constant daily battle to allow God into the depths of my heart, places
that I kept hidden, ashamed of, to let Him heal.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s hard to
completely and radically change your ways. I was ambivalent about getting
better for a very long time after I left treatment. I straddled the recovery
line so to speak for a couple years after. It wasn’t until I started truly
taking those steps forward that I began to realize that it would be MORE work
to STAY sick. Passions were forming, desires were coming to life, and purpose
had a feeling. And that was worth more to me than my eating disorder. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My trip to Africa
in 2010 was the final straw in my recovery. I look back on that trip and see
that it brought freedom to a whole new level. Honestly, I don’t even have words
for it, but something happened deep within me. My eyes were opened to what true
beauty looked like in the face of the suffering. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Discharge
day in treatment was called “Samina”. It comes from the Arabic word meaning “healthy”.
On my Samina day I shared some reflections of my journey. There was a song that
I listened to almost every day, “beauty from pain” by Superchick. Here is the
chorus---<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“After all
this has passed, I still will remain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After I’ve
cried my last, there will be beauty from pain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Though it
won’t be today, someday I will hope again,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And there
will be, Beauty from Pain”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Friends,
there is most definitely beauty from pain. There is hope. I left treatment
determined to not just survive, but to LIVE! During this National Eating
Disorder Awareness week, may you reach out to someone you know that is
struggling. Everybody knows someday. Here's to </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">my
favorite therapists who walked so much of this journey with me and believed in
me every step of the way. Jan, Maira, Felicia, and Brandis…..thank you!!!!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-21861570213743236332012-12-24T10:15:00.003-08:002012-12-24T10:17:16.271-08:00Believe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LjvqOsDuvwY/UNibpHxjeaI/AAAAAAAAAOM/bPixKQTwn-c/s1600/533713_10151253662663493_216675052_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LjvqOsDuvwY/UNibpHxjeaI/AAAAAAAAAOM/bPixKQTwn-c/s400/533713_10151253662663493_216675052_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Meet Christabel(left) and
Judith (picture above). Stories of agony….but God is writing a new story of
beauty for both of them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was a typical day for
Judith. She was drawing water at the well and I can imagine she was humming
some tune and chatting with her friends. What she did not know was that her
life was about to change forever. She began to see armed individuals and soon after
she saw many huts lit on fire. She ran home and saw her parents lying in blood.
Her father had already fallen dead and the rebels forced Judith to kill her
mother. She was immediately taken by the rebels and tied up with other girls.
They were given very heavy loads to carry on their heads and their journey
started into the bush. Those that failed to walk either received 100 or more strokes
(whips) or were killed. “In the bush I could only see blood….the suffering
started on my life”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Christabel was born in
captivity. Her mother was abducted and given as a wife to one of the top
commanders (second in command to Joseph Kony), Otti Vincent. Her mother
produced with Otti Vincent and Christabel was born into chaos, torture and
sorrow. Imagine, a toddler witnessing such extreme acts of violence. This was
her normal, this was all she knew. Her mother was killed and after that moment
she was separated from her father, Otti Vincent. She was able to see him once
more and then never saw him again. She later learned that he was killed after
Joseph Kony thought he was agreeing to peace talks. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Both complete orphans.
Both filled with grief and agony. Yet, hope wins. They have dreams and believe
that God has amazing and wonderful plans for them. “God was looking for me”,
says Christabel, after describing how He had protected her and lifted the
heaviness off of her heart. Judith, who at one point could not even utter one
word of her story, now presents herself with such strength and expectation. She
dreams of being a psychiatric doctor to help others who have been affected by
the LRA. Both of these precious jewels have felt the healing touch of Jesus and
believe that they have purpose. Their past does not define them…if anything it
pushes them to dream bigger, trust in hope and to ultimately believe. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This Christmas you can
give a gift that will continue to show all of these children that we believe in
them, love them and are standing with them in their dreams and hope for the
future. Will you BELIEVE with us?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Have a very Merry and Blessed
Christmas!!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.exileinternational.org/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri;">www.exileinternational.org</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-32183038316699701672012-09-14T13:52:00.002-07:002012-09-14T13:52:44.863-07:00We Need Pain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
don’t even know how to document all that has happened this summer; so much on
my heart and in my mind. Thankful that I have a God that knows it all!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">From
the beginning all my expectations were thrown out the window. I walked into
something that was completely different than I imagined…but honestly, I wouldn’t
have wanted it any other way. It was amazing to be able to walk alongside
Children of Peace in their beginning stages and to have a hand in implementing
the Peace Clubs…Such a gift and an honor that Exile gave me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">And
now I am preparing to say goodbye. For how long, I have no idea. I am at a loss
for what is next and how God wants to continue to use me here. I have no doubt
that I will be back…I KNOW I will be back…but when, how, in what role and
capacity….I have no idea!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I am leaving filled with gratitude. I have been so honored to hear these children’s
stories and to have the privilege of working with them. I know I have mentioned
this numerous times, but I learned more about love, healing, pain, forgiveness,
obedience and hope these past months than any other time in my life. Many women
and children trusted me with their pain and I freely entered into it with them.
At times, yes, it was over bearing and too much to handle…but if they actually
walked it and survived it, then I could listen to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">There
were moments when I would start my day and not want to hear of another child
having to kill or being burned or drinking urine or eating human flesh…but God
gave me grace and super natural strength for those days. There were days when
my heart didn’t react to a story. Those days scared me more than any other. It
was a sign that I wasn’t present and was blocking the depth of the pain that
child walked through. It scared me that the stories started sounding the same
and I was lumping them all together.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">But
then a few days later I would break. I would feel again. I would have days of
weeping for the children and all they have experienced. I liked those days, I
finally felt alive again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
believe my heart knew the days that my spirit needed protecting to make it
through the day. God gave what was needed in every moment of everyday. Through
all the emotions, which changed on an hourly basis, I am thankful that I have a
God that never changes and remains the same….always.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The
question I wrestled with the most these past few months? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“<em>Where is God in all of this</em>?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The people I talk to everyday seem to know
and they are the ones that had to experience the horrific events…so why can’t I
understand it? They believe without a doubt that God is good and that He has a
plan for them. Do I believe it? These past few months I have been so challenged
in believing in the goodness of the God and in his plan for these individuals. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">After
hearing story after story of torture and death, I was struggling with knowing
how to respond. I often remind them of God’s love for them and how strong and important
they were. But I noticed that as I shared with them I was questioning if I even
believed what I was saying about God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">But
then there were days when I believed it. Days when I was on my knees because of
the hope and strength I saw in the kids. Children who have chosen to forgive,
who love and dream and desire to be so much more than their past. My eyes are
able to open a little bigger and I can see a fuller picture. I can see the
beauty in their pain. I can see how God has been good to them. I can see how
God has protected their life. I can see how the only reason they are standing
before me is because of the healing hands of God. Nothing else can explain it.
God is in their smile and in their laughter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
am amazed at how God uses pain in our lives to bring greater things. Pain is so
needed in our lives. I think of a quote that says “ It is doubtful whether God
can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply” by Charles Swindoll. I am
tempted to put a value on my pain vs their pain…but pain is pain and we need it
to draw us to the heart of God. They get it. They praise and dance and bow down
before God after watching their parents get chopped to pieces or burned to
death. They cling to the heart of God.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">These
children and adults know suffering, which can only mean that they will be
effective for God and know more than any of us how to rely on Him for the rest
of their lives. God watched as His one and only son was brutally beaten,
whipped and had nails driven into his hands. God is not a stranger to pain and
there is always a plan….a perfect, loving and good plan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">God
is breathing life into these children. A holy roar of redemption is being
heard. Where the Spirit of the Lord is there is healing, hope and FREEDOM…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The
Spirit of the Lord is here…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e-OtwwwNthU/UFOYyx9e3CI/AAAAAAAAANM/qIdWqRGMank/s1600/VO-Exile+team+238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e-OtwwwNthU/UFOYyx9e3CI/AAAAAAAAANM/qIdWqRGMank/s400/VO-Exile+team+238.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
</div>
Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-58355805028807068772012-09-14T09:14:00.002-07:002012-09-14T09:14:26.923-07:00My Teachers (Part 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mark- Man of
JOY<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GdtadQbSJ5M/UFNWyfqJpRI/AAAAAAAAAMo/VpGzB7Xqq84/s1600/DSC02802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GdtadQbSJ5M/UFNWyfqJpRI/AAAAAAAAAMo/VpGzB7Xqq84/s400/DSC02802.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I</span> first met
Mark a few months ago. I was visiting a home out in a disabled community and
Mark heard that there was an American around. He walked to find me and I
instantly fell in love. His accent, his passion and his joy overtook me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He has been
blind since the age of six months. He doesn’t know life to be any different and
when you meet him there is no doubt that he has not let losing his sight stand
in his way. He has experienced pain and struggle in every sense of the word. He
lost his first wife and six of his children to the LRA (Lord’s Resistance
Army). Only one child remains and his son now lives by him with his wife and
their two children (with another on the way!). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mark shares
with me that numerous times he had to run from the rebels. Can you imagine not
being able to see and knowing that people were being killed, kidnapped and
mutilated all around you? He told me that his children would take his hand and
run with him, he trusted them completely to lead him to safety.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mark is now
married to his second wife Helen. She is crippled and he communicated that
because he is blind it is expected that he marry another who has a disability. He
walks to Lira Town every Friday, 8 miles, to go and beg. If he makes enough
money he can catch a ride back to his hut with few shillings left over. The
last time that I was with him he shared with me that having a disability does
not mean inability. Amen! Mark is determined, strong, witty and most of all
incredibly joyful. When I run up to see him he is dancing, grabs me in an
embrace and starts jumping up and down. He shared with me that he NEVER would
have imagined that a white person would visit him. Oh Mark, you have changed my
life. You have taught me what JOY means…not happiness which is fleeting and
inconsistent…but inner, ever-lasting JOY, which can only come through Jesus!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Evelyn<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qatTkquahbk/UFNXI10qlbI/AAAAAAAAAMw/2qgLeaZlzgE/s1600/VO-Exile+team+279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qatTkquahbk/UFNXI10qlbI/AAAAAAAAAMw/2qgLeaZlzgE/s400/VO-Exile+team+279.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Woman of
Obedience<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I travel to
a community Agweng once a week and this is where I met Evelyn. She always
greets me with singing, dancing and the high pitched “aye, aye, aye, aye!!”…not
sure what they call that here </span></span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It wasn’t
until I visited her hut when the Colorado Team was here that I truly saw her
soul and her pain. She knelt before us, holding her child and began weeping.
She shared her struggle and her suffering. She was married but her husband was
killed by the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army). She was barren, but she did not let
that stop her from being a mother. She took in a girl and a boy and raised them
as her own. They were both captured by the LRA and taken into captivity. The
boy never returned. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The girl
returned…..pregnant and with HIV. She gave birth to a son and then she passed
away due to illness. Evelyn now cares for the child and she has contracted HIV
from him. She shared with us that she has been living in intense pain for the
past year due to fibroids in her stomach. I never would have known. She never
shared before about her physical pain. She walks miles every week to see me
when I come to Agweng. She works so hard every day to take care of the children
and provide food…..all in intense pain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Through some
very generous donors we were able to get her to the clinic and arrange for her
to have surgery! Actually, as I am writing this she is getting operated on! She
was so thankful and communicated that this has changed her life.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">However,
through it all, even before she knew that she was getting the surgery, Evelyn
taught me about obedience. She says “yes” to God even when it is hard and even
what it hurts. She still dreams even when her desires are not yet met and she
doesn’t know if they will ever come true. She says “yes” to caring for orphans
that need a mother to love them, even if she might not have any money or any
food. She says “yes” to life….no matter what comes with it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thank you
Evelyn; for showing me what it looks like to be obedient even when it is hard
and you want to give up. Thank you for CHOOSING to take in orphans as a single
mother and loving them like they are your own. You are being obedient and
faithful to God’s commandments of taking care of the fatherless. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
</div>
Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-51799750651767304302012-09-04T11:45:00.003-07:002012-09-04T11:45:38.739-07:00My Teachers (part 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love how
God has drawn my heart to the elderly community here in Lira. I just seem to
gravitate towards them and have learned countless lessons from listening to
them share their heart. I thought I would do a post on some of the individuals
that have impacted me in a deep way. Every time I leave them I am inspired and
challenged. They get so much more than I ever will and have such a vast
understanding of God’s character that I hope someday to attain. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xz1-xDyMcbE/UEZLjaf3vTI/AAAAAAAAAME/AcxCFxTUONg/s1600/dallas+team+225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xz1-xDyMcbE/UEZLjaf3vTI/AAAAAAAAAME/AcxCFxTUONg/s400/dallas+team+225.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Woman of
Forgiveness<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We were out
with the Colorado team doing home visits. We stopped to visit a gal, Margaret,
who is in her early 20’s and is taking care of 2 of her own children plus 8 (I might
not be correct on the exact number) of her siblings. She left her marriage to
take care of her siblings due to both of her parents dying. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We walk up
to a couple of huts and I see an elder lady sitting off in the distance, under
a tree on a straw mat. I am greeted by a huge smile and a hug. I sit down next
to her and begin to hear her story. She tells me that she lost all of her
children and her husband to the LRA. Margaret is her granddaughter. She
recounts the day that the LRA came and abducted her children and killed her
husband. She lied to them when they asked her where her husband was because she
knew what would happen if they found him. They tore inside her hut and found
him there. Because she lied, they came and sliced off her big toe. She tried to
get up and run away, but when she did she broke all of her toes on her right
foot and they are now all bent at a 90 degree angle. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I looked her
in the eyes and asked her “how do you get up every day?” “How do you keep
moving forward?” Her answer, “God keeps me going and I forgave the rebels for
what they did”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am in awe
and ask “How did you forgive?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lucy
replies, “Because God tells us to. I forgive because God tells me to forgive.
Those rebels knew not what they were doing. They were children, forced to kill.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We ended our
time with some singing and praying. I walked away wanting to forgive like Lucy
forgives. I still get to see Lucy often and she is truly free because she chose
to forgive. There is no other way that I can explain her radiance and her joy. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thank you
Lucy for choosing to do the hard thing…..you will reap such a great reward.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4cktEpfjxFk/UEZLtjoeXjI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/24oKmjwgBXo/s1600/dallas+team+087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4cktEpfjxFk/UEZLtjoeXjI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/24oKmjwgBXo/s400/dallas+team+087.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pilda<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Woman of
Faith<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was the third
time that I had visited the Barlyonyo Massacre Memorial Site (post on this to
come later). This time I was there with the Dallas team. Every time that I go I
hear a REALLY hard story and leave so angry and confused, wondering how this
all ever happened. To be honest, I wasn’t really looking forward to going on
this day because I didn’t want to hear another story. But God always has
different plans for me </span></span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The team was
listening to some of the local leaders share about the happenings on this day
and since I heard it a couple of times before I decided to walk around a bit.
There are often many individuals from the community that come when we arrive
and my eyes fell on this lady, Pilda. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I knew there
was a story to be told as I scanned her body and saw scar after scar and such
deformation of her skin. From head to toe she was wrapped in a terrible memory.
Before she said a word I was already fighting back tears. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I began to
get to know her and her story started coming out. She shared with me that she
was in the displacement camp when the rebels came. The rebels entered her hut
where she and her husband were staying. They forced them both to lie down and
they put grass on top of them and lit them on fire. They left and then set the
hut up in blaze. Pilda was miraculously able to escape, but with tears in her
eyes she talks about then watching the hut burn knowing that her husband was
inside. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“How do you
keep living?” The only question I know how to ask after I hear such a story. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"God” “I am
thankful that I am alive and He keeps me going”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I look at
Pilda and I share with her how at times, people in America, such as me, often
begin to blame God and get very mad at God when bad things happen. She gasps!
The thought was absurd to her. “No! God is ALWAYS good!” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We take a
short walk and I slip her some money to get some new sandals and some food. She
looks at me and says “See, I knew God would take care of me today and He did
because He sent you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wow, such
amazing Faith. Thank you Pilda; for modeling and teaching me what it looks like
to never doubt God and His goodness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-68901889740206855812012-08-31T16:28:00.001-07:002012-08-31T16:28:16.037-07:00Just one of those days.....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">I know that I have
not blogged in FOREVER…..so please forgive that this first post in over a month
is going to be me being a “negative Nancy”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">Today was quite the
adventure. Sometimes, well almost always, I am in the mood for a wild time.
Today…not so much and the LAST thing I wanted was a crazy adventure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">We had a late start
leaving Jinja because my bungee pictures were not uploading on my computer and
I had to go back to the place where we jumped to get them reloaded. We had bus
reservations in Kampala at 2:00pm to head to Lira and the bus from Jinja wasn’t
loaded and ready until noon. We were hopeful that we would make it in time….but
then it started down pouring and the traffic once in Kampala was a nightmare.
With the mixture of those two, we thought it would be best to jump off the
coaster and get on some Boda’s(motorcycle taxi’s) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to take us to the bus park. Mind you, it is
raining, I have my pink carry-on suitcase, backpack and a couple of sacks….way
too much to travel on boda’s around kampala….but hey, it’s an adventure right?!?
It all sounded fun in the beginning!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">I have always said
that I would never take a Boda in downtown Kampala because it is dangerous and
the traffic is crazy. I did it on the day we left for Jinja and survived and in
this moment we had no other choice. Seriously, maybe God has me take these
because my prayer life increases drastically every time </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">So we whistle over
some boda’s (still raining) and I load up with my carry-on suitcase in front of
the driver, over the handle bars and me on the back. Ronald and Cord hop on
another. I was told that the bus park we were headed to was “very near”…which
in Ugandan does not mean it is close </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;"> We take off and my Boda speeds past Cord and Ronald. We are zipping
in and out of cars, squeezing our way through the tight traffic. Imagine a
parking lot of cars….now picture a motorcycle between parked cars….now picture
all of those vehicles moving….yup, that was me. Pretty sure we even scraped a
few as we passed. I am holding my breath and praying for survival </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">We are now down to 5
min left to make it to our bus. These buses leave exactly when they are
supposed to and when my boda finally got me there, I see our bus pulling out. “Mzungu,
Mzungu! Is that your bus you want? Chase it, chase it! Boda, take her!” The
Ugandans were trying to be helpful and my boda took off following the bus. At
this point, I have no idea where Cord and Ronald are at and even if we caught
up to the bus I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">The bus was refusing
to pull over to let me on and at this point I was so frustrated, covered in mud
and soaking wet. The Boda continues to follow the bus and then all of the
sudden another motorcycle comes out of nowhere, is parallel to us and then rams
right into us! I grab the driver, thinking “dear God we are going to flip.” I
was trying to brace myself for whatever was going to happen next and how to
handle the fall the best. I was imaging a huge pile up if we crashed and then
all the bodas and cars behind us running over us. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The motorcycle is out of control and we are
wobbling and tilting back and forth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-30EPZJOE7_s/UEFGZqxrJJI/AAAAAAAAALs/b-YRqudjCeI/s1600/Iphone+097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-30EPZJOE7_s/UEFGZqxrJJI/AAAAAAAAALs/b-YRqudjCeI/s320/Iphone+097.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crazy roads<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">By God’s amazing
protection, the boda was able to get control of the bike and we continued
moving forward. He was still trying to catch the bus, but it was impossible and
all I wanted was to get off the stupid boda! I told him to stop, but he kept
going. I yelled a little louder…he still kept going. Finally, I just screamed
in his ear “ Stop now!!!!”. He finally got the point. I jumped off and in that
moment all I wanted to do was cry. I was soaked, my luggage was muddy and
drenched, my body was shaking and I had no idea where Cord and Ronald were….I
just wanted a freakin car! </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">I took a deep breath,
pulled up my big girl panties and knew that I had to get back on the boda to
get to Ronald and Cord. I met them safely and then we took off walking to another
bus park. I was told, “it’s just down the road”…Yeah right…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">We start walking in
the muddy, jammed pack streets. I am trying to protect all my stuff and be
aware of someone unzipping my backpack from behind….seriously insane streets at
this moment. So thankful for burly men to help carry my load and a bright pink
suitcase </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked
at Ronald, half smiling/laughing, half NOT, saying “I do not want adventure
right now. I do not like this at all right now…get me to the bus! </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">” </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uGAPsdLwJto/UEFGSQEyAwI/AAAAAAAAALg/N1fy4YVuySk/s1600/Iphone+095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uGAPsdLwJto/UEFGSQEyAwI/AAAAAAAAALg/N1fy4YVuySk/s320/Iphone+095.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Streets we had to walk through</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">We finally make it,
load up the bus to find out that we still have 2 hours to wait until it fills
up and can leave. Cord brings me my beloved Coke Zero (the only diet soda here)
and I remember that I had some oreos in my bag. I sit down and for about 3.4 minutes
I am relaxed. However, my peaceful moment is disrupted from then on with
vendors crowding the aisles of the bus and getting in your face to buy their
products….for the NEXT 2 HOURS! I feel claustrophobic often here because
Ugandans or Africans in general have no concept of personal space….so needless
to say; I had to practice a lot of deep breathing and taking vacations in my
mind as I sat on the bus.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BBDf-Whqt4A/UEFGLDUI1oI/AAAAAAAAALY/RcqGl7uCXss/s1600/Iphone+088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BBDf-Whqt4A/UEFGLDUI1oI/AAAAAAAAALY/RcqGl7uCXss/s320/Iphone+088.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why not have Matooke and Beans while you wait!?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">Once we got moving
(and crammed more people into the aisles for the 5 hour ride) I began to
realize how normal this is becoming. This has been my normal for the past
couple of months and will still be my normal for another month. I am not sure
if I am ready for this all to end….in 30 days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_U1zrZ6JwHE/UEFGEF8rtdI/AAAAAAAAALQ/mdoZ4R_nGUg/s1600/Iphone+074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_U1zrZ6JwHE/UEFGEF8rtdI/AAAAAAAAALQ/mdoZ4R_nGUg/s320/Iphone+074.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bus Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;">I am going to try
REALLY hard to update my blog as frequently as possible throughout this next month.
There is so much in store and even if there are days like today when I really
don’t want an adventure….I will embrace it and remember that I will probably
wake up the next morning itching for some drama </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Narrow"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Kartika;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
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</div>
Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-85812696506355138012012-07-25T13:13:00.002-07:002012-07-25T13:13:57.148-07:00Just a Momma and her Boys!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was having
a very difficult time finding joy today (or should I say CHOOSING joy). I was
irritable and overwhelmed with all that we were still trying to figure out in
planning for the team that is coming from the states on Saturday. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Isn’t it
just like our God to see us exactly where we are and to be so kind as to send
along a special blessing to pick us up when we need it? We don’t deserve it, I
especially didn’t deserve it, yet He loves to shower us with kindness and to
ultimately do this so that we once again are reminded that God is in control
and all we need to do is rest in Him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We were
driving through town after leaving one of the schools and headed back to Jane’s.
We were parked quickly, as someone jumped out to grab something. Someone then
pointed out that some of our street kids ( laughing that I just said “our”, yes
I am claiming them now) that we work with twice a week at Child Restoration
Outreach were walking by. I jumped out and called to them. Immediately, they
turned, had huge grins on their faces and came over to greet me. They are able
to eat porridge in the mornings and have lunch at CRO, but they are not fed
dinner. I asked them if they were hungry (more through sign language and
rubbing their bellies) and wanted to go get some food. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I told the
others I was with that I was going to hang out with the boys, Bruno and Oscar
and go get some food. They drove off and it was the first time I had ever been
alone with these boys without a translator (personally, they can be over-rated
at times </span></span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">) I LOVED every second of it! And of course, sweet Jane then
calls me after driving off to remind me to keep an eye on my backpack! </span></span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xYIZOqLpv_w/UBBR-EthboI/AAAAAAAAAKo/i_pIhWSwCiM/s1600/Iphone+046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xYIZOqLpv_w/UBBR-EthboI/AAAAAAAAAKo/i_pIhWSwCiM/s320/Iphone+046.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruno</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We walked
through town a bit until we stopped at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. We
ordered three big plates of rice and three big plates of chicken! The boys were
ecstatic when I asked them if they wanted a soda and looked like such gentleman
as they put their straws in the bottles and sipped their drink! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We were
nearly finished with our food, when Bruno and Oscar started yelling out to some
other street kids (also from CRO) that were walking by to come over. These
boys, who have nothing, immediately began sharing whatever they had left of
their food with their friends. Of course, I had to have them join us! “Waitress,
three more orders of rice and chicken and soda!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Aoh_bDimo3k/UBBSIxsGRLI/AAAAAAAAAKw/flpygm7lkUg/s1600/Iphone+048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Aoh_bDimo3k/UBBSIxsGRLI/AAAAAAAAAKw/flpygm7lkUg/s320/Iphone+048.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oscar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had no
idea what they were talking about…but they were laughing, giggling, making
faces, telling jokes….for a moment in time they were able to be children. They
could eat trusting that they didn’t have to fight for their food or have it
taken from them. I don’t think my smile ever washed from my face the whole time
I sat with them…watching, listening, learning. For moment in time, as I looked
at all five of them devouring their food, I felt like <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">just a momma and her boys!<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They had so
much gratitude and many “apoyo’s” (thank you) were exchanged. If only they were
able to understand English I would have told them….”no, thank YOU. Yes, I might
have bought some dinner for you…but YOU filled my heart tonight. You brought
back the joy that was missing. You teach me about strength and perseverance every time I am with you”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Their
bellies were all protruding a bit more than before dinner, a sign that they
were satisfied. I hugged them all and we parted ways. They were on their way to
find a spot to safely sleep for the night. Walking away was a little easier
knowing that at least their tummies would not be grumbling and hopefully sleep
would come a little bit easier for them tonight. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n2tavAWIoMI/UBBSRxWknYI/AAAAAAAAAK8/YDNrPfxPvuY/s1600/Iphone+056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n2tavAWIoMI/UBBSRxWknYI/AAAAAAAAAK8/YDNrPfxPvuY/s320/Iphone+056.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Solomon, Ochenosen, Suna</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I walked
through the town in the dark on my way home, my heart finally felt more alive.
<em>How can something that simple, that little… restore such life?</em> Easy….it’s the
art of giving. <strong>It’s the fact that being a part of something GREATER is what God
has intended for our life….and especially for our hearts.<o:p></o:p></strong></span></span><br />
</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-63997548050488749352012-07-22T09:59:00.001-07:002012-07-22T09:59:08.523-07:00"Lost in Love" tank or t-shirt!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ever since I have been here in Lira, Uganda and assisting Children of Peace Uganda I have seen so much need. We are daily handing over money to assist the leaders of Children of Peace, provide money for drivers, cars and fuel, food, art supplies, treatment materials, stops to the clinic for some of the children and so much more!<br />
<br />
I am asking for your help! Make a purchase that makes a difference! With a purchase of a "Lost in Love" tank or t-shirt you will be directly assisting in meeting the needs right here on the ground! How cool is that!!! Your money will have a direct effect on the work we do with these former child soldiers!<br />
<br />
Sale is open until August 8th! Please spread the word and share to all of your friends like crazy!<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-99XmgM8UFEU/UAww0oP-UjI/AAAAAAAAAKc/qrBJxieMSQk/s1600/PurpleforKari.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-99XmgM8UFEU/UAww0oP-UjI/AAAAAAAAAKc/qrBJxieMSQk/s320/PurpleforKari.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
Purchase here: <a href="http://karihamilton.storenvy.com/" target="_blank">http://karihamilton.storenvy.com </a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VzYQA633reU/UAwwyhw_IKI/AAAAAAAAAKU/6BH3n4Vktxg/s1600/NewBlankforKariTank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VzYQA633reU/UAwwyhw_IKI/AAAAAAAAAKU/6BH3n4Vktxg/s320/NewBlankforKariTank.jpg" width="225" /></a><br />
</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-4035982091559821002012-07-21T13:02:00.002-07:002012-07-21T13:02:45.796-07:00Dream BIG!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UkX5sYqaPqo/UAsJ7THFt8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/LakcXLMbeyI/s1600/dream+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UkX5sYqaPqo/UAsJ7THFt8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/LakcXLMbeyI/s320/dream+1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Today,
I sat in a room with doctors, nurses, engineers, pastors, pilots, carpenters,
mommies to orphans and a few presidents. What a bunch, huh?? These children of
war know how to dream! This is what gives me hope. I recently worked with a
group of kids that have received no trauma care and many of them were unable to
dream. The children I worked with today give me hope, that soon all these children
who have faced traumatic experiences will be able to dream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Before
I came here, I had a rough couple of months. I am beginning to see why God led
me through some trials during that time, so I could share more from my heart
the importance of dreaming, even though it is hard. A wise counselor, Jan
Meyes-Proett, shared with me that when we push down our deepest desires and do
not face them, we put ourselves in a very vulnerable place. We end up doing
things that we know is not what we truly desire deep down in the depths of our
hearts…but in the moment it seems easier and we rather trade in feeling that at
least some of our needs are being met, rather than every part of our heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vSfIGvJ4J_I/UAsJ8Nrc3RI/AAAAAAAAAJw/74HeOK0ZFlg/s1600/dream+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vSfIGvJ4J_I/UAsJ8Nrc3RI/AAAAAAAAAJw/74HeOK0ZFlg/s400/dream+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
have been able to pass this wisdom on to these brave hearts and challenge them
to DREAM BIG…bigger than getting school fees, bigger than just a job. Who are
they going to BE? How are others going to SEE them? Who are they in the depths
of their soul? It is hard and very frightening. You are walking in unknown
territory and we don’t know if our dreams will come true…but we dream anyways!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">These
children have more strength and ability to dream than I do. I watch them draw,
I hear them share…with power in their voice, confidence in their demeanor. They
BELIEVE, they TRUST and they walk by FAITH…Lord teach me to dream like them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HQui7XI5qcA/UAsJ_e59I7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/l4c8mNDj3Og/s1600/dream+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HQui7XI5qcA/UAsJ_e59I7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/l4c8mNDj3Og/s320/dream+3.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">When
asked what they are thankful for, these children respond “wisdom” “knowledge” “that
God protected me” “that I am ALIVE”…no child in America that I have worked with
has ever responded in this way. These children know how to be grateful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
walked into the room and asked the group if they remembered what their
assignment was from a few days ago. They nodded their heads, grinned and
shouted, “DREAM BIG!” Oh I wish I had that moment on recording so you could
hear the hope and courage in their voices.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">They
put their heads down and listened as I guided them through an imagery activity
of picturing their dream. Can’t you just seem them in the future? As I watch
them I want to climb inside their minds to see where they are going, what they
are doing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lbLWE2h5DGk/UAsKJlMvYmI/AAAAAAAAAKI/y6iHek4oOiQ/s1600/lira+part+7+068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lbLWE2h5DGk/UAsKJlMvYmI/AAAAAAAAAKI/y6iHek4oOiQ/s320/lira+part+7+068.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">They
sit up and begin to put whatever image that was in their mind into a drawing or
words. For a moment in time they see themselves as ABLE, as ACHIEVERS and most
of all as DREAMERS. They hear that “All things are possible through Christ” and
that they are capable of making meaning of their past through finding their
purpose in the here and now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CTTwJB75yC8/UAsKAScjM6I/AAAAAAAAAKA/zUuVMezrBmI/s1600/dream+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CTTwJB75yC8/UAsKAScjM6I/AAAAAAAAAKA/zUuVMezrBmI/s320/dream+4.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">All
we can do is present our heart, in its truest, purest form to God and trust and
believe that He sees and hears all of our innermost desires and will lead us to
a place where….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">DREAMS REALLY DO COME TRUE.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-38695980038876567062012-07-16T09:02:00.005-07:002012-07-16T09:02:56.617-07:00A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On Thursday (12<sup>th</sup>) we went to a
community in Ogur. This is close to Baarylonyo, and if you google this you will
read about a massacre that occurred here from the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army).
We were greeted with waving palm branches, singing and dancing from the
children and mothers. Africans LOVE to sing and dance and I truly believe this
is how they heal. Many of the kids sang for us and it appeared that they wrote
their own lyrics about the pain that they have been through, yet how they have
survived.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-se9EPSQZ2GM/UAQ5FIEKFwI/AAAAAAAAAJA/sZx_vCvjU6U/s1600/lira+part+5+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-se9EPSQZ2GM/UAQ5FIEKFwI/AAAAAAAAAJA/sZx_vCvjU6U/s320/lira+part+5+002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We met with about 50 kids/youth and some
child-mothers. All of these children fit the target population that Children of
Peace Uganda work’s with. Former child soldiers, abducted, born in captivity or
child mothers. We split them up into different age groups and began
relationship building through games, songs and dance! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I had the teenagers and we did a few drama games
and then we did the “lighthouse” activity (you can read about this in an
earlier post). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mpJtYquViB8/UAQ5PA5Z49I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/XS5M7OIw7qs/s1600/lira+part+5+088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mpJtYquViB8/UAQ5PA5Z49I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/XS5M7OIw7qs/s320/lira+part+5+088.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">God then had some plans that I was not prepared
for. Our time with them on this day was supposed to be nothing more than just
getting to know them and to get familiar with one another before we start the
peace clubs with them. We had a little bit of time left and so we had the group
come back together. We thought it might be fun to just give them a piece of
paper and a marker and have them draw whatever they wanted. I had the translator
communicate to them to draw whatever was on their heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Their stories came pouring out. I was walking
around and as my eyes were glancing at their papers I started seeing guns,
villages on fire, rebels, individuals tied up…..and so much more. I began to
get a bit nervous because we did not plan for this to happen. We didn’t have
the time to sit with each child and talk about what they were drawing. But God
had a plan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9uhvDIZQLHw/UAQ5JumObOI/AAAAAAAAAJI/ZeRnT3Q4h28/s1600/lira+part+5+136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9uhvDIZQLHw/UAQ5JumObOI/AAAAAAAAAJI/ZeRnT3Q4h28/s320/lira+part+5+136.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I began to stop to sit with a few at a time and
ask them what they were drawing. “my village on fire” “watching the rebels kill
people” “ here they are tying up all the kids together and placing heavy things
on their head to carry” “me holding a gun” “my parents are dead in this picture,
I watched them get murdered”…..and the stories kept coming….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2MjffEWr2YU/UAQ4daht32I/AAAAAAAAAIc/rCG2-ApDnY4/s1600/lira+part+5+163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2MjffEWr2YU/UAQ4daht32I/AAAAAAAAAIc/rCG2-ApDnY4/s320/lira+part+5+163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I saw a boy (Peter, 16) sitting on the bench
staring at his picture. He looked completely lost in it…wrapped up in whatever
it was he had drawn. I made my way over to him. I asked him if he would be
willing to share with me what he drew. Tears immediately starting welling up in
his eyes. He shared about how he was remembering how the children were taken
from their homes. Then, he pointed to a picture of a rebel pointing a gun at a
mother and her baby. I asked him who that was. He replied “that’s me”….as more
tears began streaming down his face. My heart was breaking and I found myself
struggling to keep my own tears from pouring out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nTZsyx5AJbg/UAQ4TdrCmOI/AAAAAAAAAIU/0kWK9y8YG7E/s1600/lira+part+5+161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nTZsyx5AJbg/UAQ4TdrCmOI/AAAAAAAAAIU/0kWK9y8YG7E/s320/lira+part+5+161.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He wanted prayer. Prayers of forgiveness. He
told me he felt so bad and wondered if God would ever forgive him for what he
did. I no longer held my tears in. I wept with him. I held him and prayed with
the strength and power of Jesus Christ. I found myself taking the greatest pain
in my own life that I have experienced and multiplying that by about 100….to
try and understand. It is too great. Too great for me or for you or for him,
Peter….but not too great for our God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d2-ndMqKYYQ/UAQ5UZB8xJI/AAAAAAAAAJY/QP3az6ceYBA/s1600/lira+part+5+140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d2-ndMqKYYQ/UAQ5UZB8xJI/AAAAAAAAAJY/QP3az6ceYBA/s320/lira+part+5+140.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peter and I</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As we left our time there, we were escorted out
with…can you guess?? Singing and dancing. God sees them. There is no therapy
intervention that could bring ultimate healing to these children. The trauma is
so severe. Yes, they can learn some skills and we will teach them those skills
and different ways to express their pain and their stories. But only God can
put their broken heart back together. Only God can turn their memories of
terror into beauty. <strong><em>Only God.</em></strong> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-12388003963395663012012-07-13T08:12:00.001-07:002012-07-13T08:14:24.925-07:00Meet the children/youth at Lira Boarding School<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know for me, once I have a name and a face to put with a story it all becomes THAT MUCH more real. Meet the children and youth that are in our Peace Club at Lira Integrated Boarding School. Please take your time. Look into their eyes. Imagine what they would tell you if they could speak. Say a prayer for them. These children have either been former child soldiers, abducted or born in captivity. <br />
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</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-67274077613655148812012-07-13T06:20:00.000-07:002012-07-13T06:20:04.935-07:00Lira Integrated Boarding School<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On Wednesday after we met with the street kids, we later
went to Lira Integrated Boarding School. This is another place where we are
implementing the peace clubs. There are about 30 kids here that fall into
Children of Peace’s target group of being abducted, former child soldiers, born
in captivity, or child-mothers (gave birth in the bush due to being raped by
the rebels). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I am so thankful that my fabulous friend and fear-less
leader taught me about “Flex Pills” on my very first trip to Africa in 2010.
You never know what the day will hold, and even though you have an agenda and a
time schedule to follow, sometimes it just doesn’t happen! We were supposed to
have an hour with these kids, but we arrived a bit late, had to meet with the
headmaster and then it took awhile for all the kid to get to us. So we ended up
only have an half an hour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But it was a good start to the Empower Program. We spent
time explaining what the Empower Program was and the various activities that we
will be doing with them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Since we didn’t have a whole lot of time, I thought it would
be good for them to decide as a group what they wanted the rules to be. It is
so interesting to me, because in my mind I think about what former kids in my
groups back in America have said or done during some of these activities....
and it is so interesting to compare the differences! As they began to list what
rules they wanted so that they all felt safe to open up and share I was
floored. Here is what they came up with:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Time Management<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Cooperation<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Discipline<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Love
one another<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Obedience<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Respect
one another<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">7.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Forgive
one another<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">8.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Be open
to share<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">9.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What is
said in group, stays in group<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Gungsuh;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">10.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have Fun!!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Gungsuh","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We will start trust and team building activities with them
on Saturday! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-50159296315963314402012-07-13T05:17:00.005-07:002012-07-13T05:17:56.900-07:00Empower Program/Peace Clubs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I know you have been reading about this
Empower Program/Peace Clubs and are probably wondering what the heck it is!? So
I thought I would share a bit more with you. Basically, it’s a program that has
three parts to it. The first part is the Empower Program. This program focuses
on trauma healing and forgiveness. The first part, which we are just now implementing
with the kids, highlights emotional strength. We are providing these children
with skills to manage emotions, identify their emotions, build trust, coping
skills, and then eventually share their stories. We will then move into the
second part of the Empower Program which will teach skills on Forgiveness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After the Empower Program is complete the
children will begin focusing on Peace and Reconciliation Skills Training and
Peace Building Skills. The last component is Leadership Skills Training. This
is a brand new/ground breaking program that Exile International has created and
I am so thrilled to be on the ground assisting in implementing it for the first
time!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Through all of these different components a
variety of interventions will be used, the majority being expressive arts.
These children will build and maintain skills and healing through drama, art,
music and dance. When a traumatic event occurs in a child’s life or anyone’s
life, it is stored in the right side of the brain. This is the side of our
brain that allows us to express ourselves emotionally. So it only makes sense
that these children are able to tell more of their story and receive more
healing when expressive art methods/interventions are used. Many times,
children are unable to verbally describe a traumatic event…but once given a
marker and piece of paper their story comes to life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We just completed the first session of the
Empower Program with three different groups of children this week! More blogs to
come to walk you through how it all played out!</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xSTX4HMSwY4/UAARqFbrfNI/AAAAAAAAAEo/rxHMth3363c/s1600/Lira+part+three+052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xSTX4HMSwY4/UAARqFbrfNI/AAAAAAAAAEo/rxHMth3363c/s400/Lira+part+three+052.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Founatin School Girls who are in the Peace Clubs!<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-45678015081873136092012-07-13T04:47:00.001-07:002012-07-13T05:20:31.521-07:00Kick off of Empower Program/Peace Clubs with Child Restoration Outreach<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">Today
(Wed July 11<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>), we started with meeting with CRO (child restoration
outreach). We have visited them a couple of times in the past couple of weeks
to get to know them and to start building relationships with them. These
children are all street children. They walk the streets daily and if they are
lucky are able to find a place to sleep for the night. They are dirty, filthy…yet
melt my heart. CRO is open for these children to provide porridge in the
morning and then a lunch. The staff offers a devotional for them in the morning
and then some classes to review material that is taught in the school, so when
they do get reunited with their family and get sponsors they won’t be so far
behind in the classroom. The kids are able to come and take showers and wash
their clothes throughout the day. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">I
love naughty kids; they are my favorite</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Century Gothic"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Century Gothic"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">. Even with the population of kids that I worked
with in America, I was drawn to the trouble makers the most. This group is
mostly all males and they are rough! But think about it, they have to learn how
to survive daily on the street…so I expect them to be aggressive and to have
such a strong wall built up around them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">We
are doing the Empower Program/Peace Clubs with them, in a slightly different
way than the other groups. These boys need constant activity, fun and
excitement to keep them engaged. They often do not get good sleep during the
night, so many times they sleep throughout the day and it is hard for them to
stay awake when they have to sit in a chair and listen! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">We
started with a brief “check-in”. I taped up a big poster and drew a line. Each
child came up and identified where they fell on the line. One side was feeling
really bad and the other extreme was feeling amazing. The majority of the boys
wrote their name on the end of “feeling really bad/sad/not good”. Makes sense.
This is a great way to “check-in” with various groups that you are working
with. Not only does it show the others where they are at and gives them a
chance to not feel alone, but it helps us who are leading the group…to know
which kids to be more sensitive with, gentle with. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, while I was introducing this first
activity, a fist fight broke out among some of the boys. Another boy stood up
and broke them apart. After this happened, I knew I was in my comfort zone! </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Century Gothic"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Century Gothic"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";"> Love, Love, Love them so
much!</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iiFFQdK0pqM/UAAKTpuNK6I/AAAAAAAAAEU/JwgcIe4UAlE/s1600/CRO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iiFFQdK0pqM/UAAKTpuNK6I/AAAAAAAAAEU/JwgcIe4UAlE/s400/CRO.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">We
then introduced the topic of trust and ventured into a fun game of “Light House”.
The Empower Program speaks about how when we experience trauma and stressful
times in our lives, we begin to not trust individuals anymore. These boys
especially have little trust for anyone in their life. They only trust themselves,
as they are the only ones who they have to fend against and protect while they
are on the street. I am sure their motto is “Trust No ONE”. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">One boy
was blindfolded at a time. Three others were placed in various spots throughout
the lawn…with obstacles in the way. The blindfolded individual is the “ship”
and the other three individuals are the “lighthouses”. The “lighthouses” have
to get the “ship” to come to them safely. The “ship” then delivers their “cargo”
which was sweets (candy). I knew the second that sweets were involved we would
have these kids undivided attention! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">They
had so much fun and I love to see them smile and hear them laugh. Of course,
there are the “naughty” ones that ate the sweets while they blindfolded and
didn’t deliver them to the “lighthouses” </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Century Gothic"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Century Gothic"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O7_7gcIYSps/UAAKVmGTp5I/AAAAAAAAAEc/5bDJMf6E95Y/s1600/CRO+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O7_7gcIYSps/UAAKVmGTp5I/AAAAAAAAAEc/5bDJMf6E95Y/s400/CRO+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">We
then discussed issues of safety. Did they feel safe while they were
blindfolded? Why or why not? They definitely agreed that the only reason the “lighthouses”
gave them good directions because they knew they were getting sweets delivered
to them! We related this game to their life. So often, we walk through life
without knowing where we are going and not feeling like we have a guide. There
are many obstacles that we face in our life. So I asked them, who is your
guide?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">“God”
they responded. In my heart I learn once again from these children. Here they
are, living on the street, no home, not with their family, not going to school…..yet
they know and trust that God is their guide. He is the One leading them and He
is who they trust to get them to their final destination, safely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">We
explained to them that as they looked around, the boy sitting next to him, he
is your family. CRO works really hard at trying to get these boys to work
together as a team and support and love one another. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">I
can’t wait to continue to meet with these boys twice a week. I have learned
more through all the clients I have worked with in the past in America, and the
same is true here. They teach me so much and I can’t wait to keep learning from
them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-77469006605343311732012-07-08T13:22:00.003-07:002012-07-08T13:22:47.806-07:00Grace<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today was my favorite day so far since I have been here
in Lira. When my day is packed full of meeting, loving, hugging, praying and encouraging….then
I am energized! Yes, it is outwardly exhausting, but my heart overflows and
this is why I love being here so much. I allowed myself to break for the first
time today. I realized that I have not cried in a few weeks (crazy I know!) and
I continually felt the tears well up in my eyes and I had to push them down
until I was alone. It has been so neat for me to see God direct my heart and
steps with the different people that we have been meeting and working with. So
often, well almost all the time, I always gravitate towards the children. This
is where I am comfortable; this is what I am used to. But for some reason, the
single mothers of Teso Bah have completely grabbed my heart. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I struggle to even put words to how amazed I am by these
women. They live in the slums of Lira and have very little. Most of the women
take care of 3 or more children alone, most not even their own. This is what I
love. They take in the kids who have lost both of their parents due to the LRA,
either their relatives or friends. They work so hard to try and give them a
place to sleep and some food. Most of the kids cannot attend school because the
mothers cannot afford to pay for their school fees….those that are fortunate
enough to go never know when it might be their last day, because the money
might not be there. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can’t even imagine. Can you? Would you be able to wake
up every day and forge ahead, doing what needs to be done to feed the children
when you have lost so much? Yes, I am sure we could dig deep into our souls and
find the strength….but doing it alive? Feeling alive? <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Feeling empowered, beautiful and
strong? <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They laugh, they smile and they sing. However, there are
some, that when I look into their eyes I can see the pain in their soul. Grace.
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Her
name is Grace….so fitting</i></b>. The LRA came into her village and abducted
three of her children. Two girls and one boy. That same day they also killed
her husband. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of her girls, Jennifer, has returned. I asked “how
was it possible that she escaped without her siblings?” Once the LRA figures
out that they have a group of siblings they immediately separate them into
different groups. They fear that if they keep them together it is easier for
them to make plans to escape. Can you imagine? Not only have you just been
taken from your mother and father, but now you are forced to leave your brother
or sister. You are alone. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The other two have not returned. I am confident that
Grace still believes that they are alive and begging God to bring them back to
her. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">9
years</i></b>. 9 years she has been waiting. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> G</span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">race has two additional children and including Jennifer
takes care of 3 of her biological children as well as two little ones (still
unclear as to their identification). She works at the market, selling what she
can to make whatever little money possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is such depth in her eyes. She has lived through so much. Soon I
will hear more of her story and record a message from her that she would like
to tell the world. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">She has a voice and she has a story that needs to be heard. <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Trusting and believing in God’s great plan for all of
these women. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-46471532498362383792012-07-01T15:09:00.000-07:002012-07-01T15:10:47.444-07:00Love at First Sight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j-J8K_J_iTw/T_DKVbxOoNI/AAAAAAAAAEE/GgLt0yUokAo/s1600/Lira+2012+049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j-J8K_J_iTw/T_DKVbxOoNI/AAAAAAAAAEE/GgLt0yUokAo/s320/Lira+2012+049.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Batang","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I don’t know her name. I have no idea what her story is. But
there is something about her........<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Batang","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was walking the slums and our eyes met. She was instantly
filled with a smile and we gravitated towards each other and embraced. I was
captured by her beauty. I had a deep sense that she had experienced so much pain...it
could be the only explanation as to why she radiated such joy and I was
overwhelmed and silenced by her soul. No words were exchanged that either of us
could understand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Batang","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Looking at this picture, at first glance, your first thoughts
would not be “beautiful”. She has many wrinkles, no hair, missing teeth. But in
her presence...BEAUTY was the only word that filled my mind. Her face,
weathered with years of life, years of experience, years of wisdom. I have a
feeling that I have so much to learn from her. I am bound and determined to
find her again. To sit with her. To listen to her. Hear her wisdom. Learn from
her strength.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Batang","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Africa always and continues to transform and radically teach
me about beauty and what it means to truly, deeply, be beautiful. Oh how I have
so much learn. May we find each other again sweet soul.........<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-9912090087709495872012-07-01T10:23:00.003-07:002012-07-01T10:23:39.610-07:00Time to be REAL<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was 4:30 am on the 19<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> of June and the power
was out. I was packing up the rest of my belongings with my flashlight and
trying to be quiet, as to not wake my team members. I was preparing to leave
Canaan’s children home and head to Lira for the next two months to work with
Children of Peace Uganda for Exile International.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This was not an easy transition for me. I was so emotional
and exhausted from the last two weeks with my Visiting Orphans team that every
part of me wanted to jump on a plane and head back to America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t want to have to sacrifice comfort
anymore. I was done. I was sick of being dirty, having no hot water and no
water pressure, missing diet soda, bug bites, not having nice hair, sweating,
small spaces and couldn’t stomach another day of rice and beans. I was beat. I
felt alone. I was scared.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">God was so very kind and gentle with me. I was provided many
days of rest to recuperate and to rejuvenate my soul. My greatest prayer was
that I would be reminded why I was here and that joy would again return to my
spirit. God reminded me that this was His battle and not mine. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was so hard for me to experience the variety of emotions
that was taking place. I didn’t expect to NOT want to be here! I have never
been so much out of my comfort zone like I have been here. Even though it has
been hard….I needed it. To be in a place where everything is stripped from you,
everything that you know, everything that is familiar….brings you closer to
God. Being here I can SEE, FEEL, HEAR and TOUCH God more than ever before. I am
reminded that God is ENOUGH!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once I made my way out into the town of Lira and began to
see the faces of the children there was instant joy and a knowing in my soul that
everything would be ok and that God’s timing and plan is perfect. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When you get to hug a child, kiss the cheek of face that you
know has seen so much pain, tell the women how strong they are and hear story
after story of how their pain has turned to beauty….it is worth it. All my
discomforts and complaints are nothing compared to this. It is humbling. It
takes being real and knowing that I am absolutely nothing without the power and
strength of the ONE inside of me. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The journey here in Lira, with Children of Peace and Exile
is just beginning. Lord, may your ways continue to shine bright and may you
continue to teach me how to sacrifice so that YOU may be glorified. You never
said that things would be easy….but you did promise that you would be with us
every step of the way. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<br /></div>
</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-45888145270390885652012-06-26T09:00:00.004-07:002012-06-26T09:00:59.630-07:00Eva Moreen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was given the nickname “the wanderer” on my first trip to
Uganda in 2010. I would either be ahead or behind the team or off on some other
road </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I
didn’t want to miss an exciting opportunity, meet someone or hold a baby. Mama
Kiki always gave me a hard time for this….but because I was “the wanderer” I
was able to meet my precious Eva Moreen! </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Eva lived right outside the green gates of Canaan’s Children
Home. Her mother had a little shop selling whatever items she could and they
had some mattresses in the back that they slept on. Eva would come over to
Canaans and play with all of us when the team was there. I instantly fell in
love with Eva and her mother. I began to learn more about her story and that
her father was absent quite often working in another town. I learned from the
school administrator that Eva’s family struggled to pay her school fees and
most days she did not get lunch. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">God completely worked it all out so that I could sponsor
Eva. It is a very special arrangement because she does not live at Canaan’s
Children Home but she does go to their primary school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have made an exception for me to assist
her for that last 3 years and help her attend school and be able to eat lunch
while she is there. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have now been able to spend time with Eva for the past 3
summers! She continues to grow every year and last summer when we were reunited
her mother popped out a baby boy! I have now fallen in love with baby George!</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I met Eva’s mother when I was at Canaan’s Children Home
last week, she came to me with tears streaming down her face. She told me that
she could not wait for “auntie Kari to arrive” because they were suffering. She
shared with me that her husband has now left her and rarely returns home. He
has multiple wives and multiple children. Her shop only had juice and water to
sell and her new neighbor is a cruel man who is trying to drive everyone around
him away. He has speakers that he faces into Eva’s home that screams music at
all hours of the day and night. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">She looks at me, eyes full of pain and wants me to help. I
know she is real, I know she is not playing me. My heart aches to be able to
fix their problem, get them into a new home and help her make some income. I
wish it was that easy. All I could do in that moment was reassure her that God
sees her and all her suffering. He was near to her and He would help both of us
try and find a solution. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Every day on these trips you are faced with so many needs.
Your heart becomes so full of wanting to change, add, take away, bless, give,
fix…you name it….for all that you encounter. But at the end of the day, most
often, the one and only thing that I can be sure of is that at least I could touch
them with the hands of God, I could kiss their forehead, I could bless them
with words and encouragement, tell them they are loved and reassure them that
God knows…..He sees…..and for now that has to be enough. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1385026556378071808.post-29853230348129599002012-06-23T08:17:00.001-07:002012-06-23T08:17:14.993-07:00Aida's New Home!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I couldn’t
sleep. I was tossing and turning all night. My heart was so anxious to start
the day and to get to see my precious Aida! Aida is 12 years old and I have the
privilege of being able to sponsor her to be able to send her to school. The
coolest thing about my sponsorship with Aida is how my family has been able to
get involved. Last summer when I visited Aida I was able to meet all of her 9
siblings. My Father’s House was helping them rent a room in a warehouse type
building. Rebecca Sorenson (founder of My Father’s House) contacted me after I
left and told me that the family was now on the street because the landlord did
not want that many people in his building. Aida is the oldest and her father
died a couple of years ago. </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x-ZW_slx1bY/T-Xcde5fe9I/AAAAAAAAADM/_oqpw9gBGco/s1600/uganda+2011+841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x-ZW_slx1bY/T-Xcde5fe9I/AAAAAAAAADM/_oqpw9gBGco/s320/uganda+2011+841.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p>(Old home)</o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My parents were
able to help send money so that Aida’s family could have their very own two
room house built! Rebecca already had land that they could use…so the building
began! It was so special to be able to visit their new home, a place that is
their own. They do not have to worry about paying rent or being kicked out.
When I visited they were so grateful and even though they have very little they
still wanted to give to me. The mother made sure that I left her home with a
sack of banana’s, pineapple and hand-picked flowers. </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p>(New Home)</o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Z0X2860LgE/T-XdfJT_22I/AAAAAAAAADg/-VHRec9DkhY/s1600/225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Z0X2860LgE/T-XdfJT_22I/AAAAAAAAADg/-VHRec9DkhY/s320/225.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Aida has the
most beautiful smile that I have ever seen. She absolutely glows. Her heart is
pure and I could gaze into her eyes and see her pearly whites every day! I am
amazed at how each year she understands English more and more. She wants to be
a doctor when she grows up and I made sure to communicate to her that, “Yes,
you absolutely CAN!” I wrote her a letter and she was able to read it all in English
without any assistance! She is so brilliant! </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Rebecca
communicated to me that Aida has not been the same since I visited her. She has
had more confidence to speak English, has a glow to her face and personality
and appears so happy. This, my friends, is what happens when you sponsor a
child. YOU can radically influence their life! If you want to change a life and
develop a life-long relationship with a child and in the end have your heart be
changed….please sign up! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>Kari Hamiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05123005803083428876noreply@blogger.com0