When Love Hurts.......

A few days ago I wrote about Love that does not hurt: love that is patient, kind and does not injure or demean. It is such love that God extends to us.
Last night as I was getting ready for an early night, I have a killer cold, three young girls knocked on my front door. Since I was in my night clothes I asked Herbert to put them off. But he came in my room: “Mom I think it is urgent, they are all crying.” So I put my clothes back on and went into the other room to see what had happened.
It was Reyna one of my dearest girls who graduated from sixth grade last year, her older sister and their little first grade sister Jesi. They had just returned from Guatemala City where they had left Jennifer the middle sister in intensive care. Jenny as we call her is the exact opposite of Reyna. Reyna is outgoing, has tons of friends, loves to dance and is a giggler by trade. Jenny is a quiet book worm. Jenny is the kind of child that goes through life without making noise. She is always obedient, always does her homework and always behaves. Jenny hides from the limelight preferring a quiet corner and a good book to read.
The girls were terrified. Jenny had awakened with intense pain in her legs and an increasing weakness. Their mother thinking it was the flu had gone on to the city to a business appointment. About noon Jenny worsened to the point that she could not move her extremities and Priscilla the fifteen year old sister in charge took her to our local doctor. He was extremely alarmed and sent the girls straight to the hospital in the fire department ambulance.
To make a long story short it appears that Jennifer has Guillian Barre syndrome an autoimmune disease that is extremely rare and causes muscular paralysis in ever increasing degree. What terrified these dear girls was that their cousin had the same disease and spent over a year in the hospital and even today still struggles with the side effects. Two different times the doctors told their aunt to prepare the funeral for their cousin because they did not expect him to make it through the night. And now their sister has the same rare disease.
My house was on their way home and they came here for me to give them hope. As I held the three girls in my arms we cried and prayed together. Forgotten was my early night as I tried to comfort and reassure three frightened little girls while at the same time my heart was breaking thinking about little Jenny lying alone and frightened in a strange hospital bed hooked up to a machine that breathed for her and countless monitors. Her brain functions perfectly but her body can’t respond.
When the children left reassured and comforted I broke down and the tears flowed freely. Recently a friend of mine said to me that she was kind of glad that she had never had children because she had seen parents suffer so much with their children’s pain. But then she has never experienced the supreme joy that loving a child brings as well.
Sometimes love hurts. It hurts when life is not fair. It hurts when sickness strikes. It hurts when those we love are in pain. It hurts when there is no answer why?
Yet without suffering we would never know the joy of the presence of God and being held in His loving arms. Without the rain flowers would not grow. Without the fire silver would not shine.
I ask your prayers for Jenny and her family.

Red Felt Hearts

Working with children has many benefits. Even though my bank account generally stays close to empty my heart is always overflowing. Children have a special way of making us laugh and keeping us young. A look, a giggle, a simple phrase can move us back decades in time to a place where we were young and full of hope and promise.

Last Friday we celebrated Valentine's Day at Morning Glory. Since most of our children come from economically challenged families (we are politically correct and do not say poor. lol) we outlawed mandatory gift exchanges for a more financially feasible sweet treat. We only allow flowers or sweets to be brought as gifts to exchange on Valentine's day. Each teacher planned a special party for their kids and brought a special treat to share with the class.

When I get to school in the mornings I like to sit in my car for a few minutes and observe the students and teachers as they go to class. This year we have hired a new PE teacher. He is a young man, very athletic, logical for a PE teacher and actually quite attractive. This morning I noticed a group of giggly fifth graders. They were all grouped together, giggling and pushing each other. I watched, fascinated, trying to figure out what they were up to. Then the new teacher walked up. As I watched the giggly little girls all went up one by one to give him their valentine's day gift, a flower, a card a little box of candy and a snickers bar. One girl had made a stuffed red felt heart. Obviously she had made it herself because it was crooked and the lace was falling off. It was then I realized, the new rock star was my PE teacher. He was totally oblivious to the undercurrents and politely thanked each child and went to teach his first class. As I watched, an unobserved intruder, the girls huddled. I could almost hear their hearts beat in youthful infatuation. As I watched those silly little fifth grade girls all of the sudden I remembered my sixth grade teacher, Mr. Santisteven, yep I still remember his name. He was so nice and kind. I dreamed everynight of growing up and marrying him. I dreamed that he would take me away to a palace where he was the prince and make me a princess. But all of the sudden I realized, I can't remember what he looked like. Was he tall? What color were his eyes? I have no idea. To be honest I hadn't thought of him in years. It was those giggly girls and the silly stuffed red felt heart.

Today as Tim walked out of his office to go to class, he caught a moment in time. Three little girls walking up the sidewalk hand in hand. As he snapped the picture the girls yelled. "Amigas para Siempre." Best friends forever.

Whether it be a girlhood crush on a new teacher or friendships forged in the classrooms and playground our childhood shapes the rest of our life. I pray that we can continue to provide a place where kids can grow safe and secure in love and free from fear of harm.

Love That Does Not Hurt

LOVE THAT DOES NOT HURT
One of the advantages of wireless internet is being able to keep up with international news. A few days ago a headline caught my eyes. “Abused child’s last words were: “mommy I love you” The child was saying those words as her mother and live in boyfriend were slamming the child’s head against the wall. Love that hurts. The world is broken and children are abused and hurt by the very people that should be loving and protecting them from harm. The children at Morning Glory are not different than children around the world. Many come from broken, abusive homes and their lives are filled with violence, anger and pain. Over the years I have watched my broken children bloom and grow into beautiful, loving caring beings kind of like a rose grows among the thorns.
One of the primary goals of Morning Glory is to provide a safe refuge for hurting children; a place where the unconditional love of God flows through us to the children. Morning Glory must be a place where a child feels safe and meets the Heavenly Father in truth. But loving comes at a cost, when we open our hearts to love we open our hearts to hurt and pain. But the love that we give should never cause pain, but rather take the pain of the child upon our own shoulders made broader and stronger by years of testing.
This year we had planned to reduce our student load somewhat in order to have room for extracurricular classes and to lighten the load on our teachers. The Guatemalan government decided to make public education 100% free, offering school supplies, text books and snack as an incentive to get as many children as possible into the school. Several of our parents hurting with the worldwide economical crisis had expressed to us that they would be moving their children to public schools. We made the decision to not fill the empty spaces with new children and thus supposedly we would have a few less students and a bit more space in overcrowded classrooms. In theory it worked and when school started all the classes instead of an average of 35 students had fewer than 30. Then school started and one by one repentant parents began bringing children back. One seven year old second grader went on a two day hunger strike to force his mom to bring him back, others threw temper fits, one little girl cried for days and the stories of children who refused to leave Morning Glory went on until once again all the classrooms were overflowing with students.
One the fourth day of school a mother brought a special child me. Edwin is ten years old and has never gone to school. Two years ago he was severely burned by firecrackers and his face and hands are terribly scarred. Edwin is the brother of two Morning Glory students but we did not know of his existence because his family has kept him hidden away from strangers to protect him from harm. Edwin’s brother and sister had convinced him that Miss Lori would love him no matter what he looked like and that she would not let anyone make fun of him. So finally he got enough courage to ask his mom to bring him to school. Of course we added one more desk to a crowded first grade room and Edwin became a part of us. All the children readily accepted him and as children do, looked past the scars to his heart and made friends. One little second grade punched a kid (not from our school) who waiting with his mom for the medical clinic dared to make fun of Edwin. Not the right reaction but endearing anyway. I did have a bit of a hard time scolding the second grader. Actually to be quite honest I spent more time talking to the mom about how we educate our children than I did scolding the second grader.
The most tragic thing about Edwin is that the scars on his face had made it impossible for him to close his eyes, ever. His ears had healed folded forward. Because of his family’s poverty Edwin had never seen a plastic surgeon. Obviously God’s hand was at work, on Monday of the week after Edwin became a part of the Morning Glory family a plastic surgeon from Italy came to the hospital as part of the annual medical clinic with doctors and nurses from Italy. Tim took Edwin in first thing on Monday morning to see what could be done. He spent a long eight hours in surgery on Wednesday and the long process of facial reconstruction was started. Edwin can now close his eyes and his ear lobes are in the right place. A child stepped out on faith and God made a way.
He will be several weeks in recovery but in the meantime his teacher has prepared special lessons for him to continue at home.
I am reminded once again of the little boy who asked me years ago: “Miss Lori, Why do you love us?” The answer? “Because God up in heaven loved me and since He cannot come down and hold you, or kiss your hurts away, wash your skinned up knee, dry your tears, He uses our arms, hands and hearts to show His love to the hurting masses.” You see God’s love never hurts. Instead He takes our hurt upon Himself and carries our burdens on His shoulder. Paul said it best in the thirteenth chapter of his letter to the Corinthians:
Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not want what belongs to others. It does not brag. It is not proud. It is not rude. It does not look out for its own interests. It does not easily become angry. It does not keep track of other people's wrongs.
Love is not happy with evil. But it is full of joy when the truth is spoken. It always protects. It always trusts. It always hopes. It never gives up.
So there my friends, is love that does not hurt. At Morning Glory God has called us to stand between our children and the hurt that the world would inflict upon them. Morning Glory is a refuge, a safe place to grow, to learn and to be a child. It is a special place where the Holy Spirit ministers healing and love.
I am amazed and stand in awe that God would allow me to be a small part of His Eternal plan.
His love flows through each prayer, each offering, and each sacrificial gift of every single person that is a part of the Morning Glory Miracle. His love reaches out and touches hearts and lives because you care and you give of yourself, your prayers and your resources so that children in Guatemala can know the love of God that does not hurt.

Prologue

Morning Glory Stories
Prologue
On my desks sits a silly little statue of a sleepy eyed little girl rubbing her eyes, underneath are these words: “I think I am allergic to mornings.” That pretty much describes my personal philosophy. I detest getting out of bed every morning. From the time when I was a small child, I have been consistently known for being a royal grump in the morning. To this day I detest noise and early morning conversation. When I was a little girl my father jokingly referred to me as his little “morning glory”, basically because I was anything but a morning glory.
With the passing of the years and the testing and molding of the fire of God that childhood nickname has come to mean something very special to me. Each time I have walked through the flood or gone through the fire, God has been right there with me, guiding me, comforting me and leading me on to the next step of maturity and Christian growth.
It was in the darkest night of my despair and loneliness that God spoke to me through His word. “The wrath of God lasts but the night, but His joy comes in the morning.” It was then that I realized that when the night is darkest, when the fire is at its hottest, when all hope seems lost, it is precisely that moment that the dawn is closest. Morning Glory came to signify that no matter how dark the night the morning always dawns bright and joyful with the Glory of God.
Morning Glory is a message of hope; a message of victory over trials and tribulations, victory over the darkness of ignorance and poverty. Morning Glory is a testimony to the providence and provision of a merciful and graceful God.
I listen to the words of this song as I write these words:
He is Sufficient for me,
Christ my Savior
In my abundance and lack, in my happiness and my pain
He is sufficient for me
He is the same yesterday and today and will always be the same
He is sufficient for me
Christ my Savior
You will find this theme woven into the fabric of each and every one of these stories that I share. He is sufficient for me, in my happiness and in my pain. I pray this be a testimony to you that He also is sufficient for you.
It is my prayer that this book will be a testimony to exactly that. That the stories I share not stand as a testimony to myself but to give glory and honor to our wonderful and merciful God who always permits the morning to dawn in glory and hope.
So I invite you to laugh and cry with me as I share, stories that God has put on my heart, each one a testimony to His provision, mercy and grace. I share my failings, my victories, my battles and how God worked in and through me over the years.