Mourning to Joy

"I will turn their mourning into joy; I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow." -Jeremiah 31:13

I love this picture of sister one; it eloquently captures her beauty, love and joy. 

Lu's so cute and greenalicious! 

Corkins loves her baby sister, for which I can't blame her!

Dear Sister One

It was sooooo incredibly good to hear your voice today (well, the evening of Monday for you, one a.m. Tuesday morning for me). Not only did you sound like the sister one I know and love, I felt comfort washing over me as I heard the hope, the peace and the joy exuding from you. I swear I could hear you smile through the phone as we talked. Your voice, your laughter, your tears and especially your wonderfully descriptive story telling were so uplifting to me. I'm so thankful and grateful that you had such a positive day with the kiddos and with baby Lu. And I'm especially thankful and grateful for God's mercies in giving you some positive respite from this weary and disheartening journey you're going through (well, we're all going through as we struggle alongside you, just some of us farther away than others). Please know you encourage me so much by your example of unrelentingly strong faith and deep love for your family.

I love you so, so much!

-Ems (or sister wherever-I-fall-in-the-line-of-four)

My Monkey

My niece. My goddaughter. My monkey baby. My Lucy.

My heart is heavy. I don't even know where to begin. This situation seems so hellish at the moment (yes, I said hellish... though I'll probably regret saying that in a few hours). I know God's in control and I know His Will will be done. And I trust that. But at the moment I'm having a momentary setback of broken heart syndrome.

Reading sister one's post this morning put me on the verge of tears (yes, I'm admitting that openly). I have yet to be angry over Lucy and I don't think I'm about to start, but I am starting to lose my strength. It, along with my resolve, is quickly and rapidly wavering. I'm at the point where I'm pleading with God to be my strength and give me strength. I'm weak, I'm sad, I'm hurting inside. And when I stop to examine why (and this is probably going to sound really selfish) I know it's because while my family will never again know Lucy as she was before she went to the hospital, I will never know Lucy for who she was. Other than that first two months of her life, I missed everything- the stages of learning to smile, baby babble, recognizing brothers/sister/parents/aunts/uncles, etc., learning to scoot roll over, scoot around on the floor, playing with toys... all of it. And now she's regressed physically and that's the only way I'll know her from here on out. And that's what makes me the most sad. And not just for me, but the whole family, especially sister one.

I'm not angry with God for bringing me to Slovakia. He's teaching me a great deal and I love ministering here. I'm not even angry at God for what's happening with Lucy. Confused, yes, but not angry. I just wish that I wasn't so far away at the moment. I wish I knew Lu better. I wish I could have been there to share in the joys of watching our little girl grow up over the last 11 months of her life. But I know God has a purpose for all this, including me being so far away. And I know He's with Lucy yesterday, today and tomorrow. And before time began He knew her and called her His by name. I am trying to take comfort in that and gain strength from that. I am at peace with whatever the Lord has planned through all this, whether in life or death. But it's not easy, especially right now.

"How" Without Changing "Who"

Something I've been mulling over a lot lately is how to minister to gypsies while not forcing them to become "white" or "American." What I mean by that is this: how do I reach out to a people group whose heritage and culture are an integral part of who they are and help them change (from the old to the new self in Christ) without suppressing their gypsy identity? I'm not sure if that makes a lot sense at all, but in my head it waxes eloquent.

I've been thinking about this since around Christmas time, and it's still very much on the forefront of my mind. And something I keep coming back to is I don't know how to do this. I am still learning this culture; I'm still learning what's acceptable and what's not. I'm still learning how gypsies think and the way they feel. (They are all "feelers," and their feelings influence all the decisions they do or don't make.) So as I'm learning and attempting to minister I am also trying to figure out how to do so in a manner that won't force them to lose who they are. Obviously, I want them to break out of the stereotypical mold of being known as lazy, alcoholic, worthless thieves who have no ambition and don't do anything with their life and expect the world to owe them everything. (Not all gypsies are like this, I promise.) But I also don't want to come across as the white American who comes in with guns blazing and decides to completely "Americanize" the gypsy culture in their thinking, mannerisms and decision making process. I want to help/encourage change in their cultural, not force change based on my American cultural norms and expectations.

Yesterday when we (D, D and I) met with Stevo and Julka about a community center, Julka was very upfront and open about how she was feeling about the meeting (this is a gypsy trait). She told us that she had reservations about getting involved with the community center in Z because she had been involved in two different ministries in the past run by Americans and she told us she had to leave both ministries after some time of working with them. The reason, she said, was because as hard as they tried to understand her and her background, they either couldn't or didn't do a very good job of it, and kept trying to put her in a box. Her decision to leave came because she said they were trying to make her "white" and kept squashing her in to their box and she realized she was losing her identity as a gypsy and didn't like it. As she was talking I couldn't help but think to myself how that is exactly what I am trying to avoid- forcing the gypsies into a cookie cutter white American thinking.

I wasn't able to share with Julka until the end of the meeting, but I told her that I'm not here to make the center "American" (good heavens, I didn't even know that I would be doing any of this until a couple months after arriving in Z!); I'm here to help, encourage and guide as I'm able, and my desire is to see the locals and nationals be involved and taking ownership of it. I also shared with her how I've been trying to figure out how to help gypsies function in society/in their relationship with God without forcing them to change who they are; that I'm not here to make them "white" or "American." Julka seemed genuinely surprised and thankful. She told me I had a lot of wisdom for being so young; while I don't know about that, I was glad I was able to share that with her and maybe help calm her fears/anxiety about all this. And I am also glad to see/hear that the way I am trying to minister here in Z to the gypsies isn't completely off the mark even if I haven't completely figured out how to do it yet.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

I had a great day ministerially today. I went to Banska Bystrica (BB) to meet with a couple who have a center for gypsies (the husband is Slovak, the wife is gypsy). The meeting went well and we (the other two from Z who went to the meeting with me) were able to get an idea of how they minister to and help the Roma community. We, from Z, are hoping to get a community center up and running in partnership with the village of Z; we will be meeting with our Mayor within the next week to month (depending on when we can go) to discuss what ideas she has for the center and to present our ideas of what we can offer. We are currently praying through what we should offer and who we can ask to help us with it from our church/community. The couple from BB have offered their services if they can be of any help for which I am very grateful because they know what they're doing and I certainly don't! There are certainly a lot of questions and unknowns regarding all this, so it's going to be a matter of faith and prayer as I venture into this "new territory" situation I find myself facing yet again. But I'm learning that in ministry, this is what it's like most of the time, which is why flexibility is key to surviving!

Anyway, I think the best part of the day was the 2 hour drive to and from BB. It was just two of us in the car as the third party is in BB for the weekend, but we were able to talk openly about ministry opportunities, the community center, life in general, God and walking with Him, Bible study, the church, the people in Z, the youth and ask each other very pointed questions about various and sundry things going on in Z; I also got a little more insight into gypsy culture and their mindset throughout the conversation. It was a truly beneficial conversation and I thank God so much for bringing me here to Z. It might be difficult and it might be a whole different ball game in regards to cultural norms, but I truly love these people and I truly love ministering here.

And another positive note, I found out Lucy is probably stable enough to be moved from the Cardiac ICU to the general Cardiac floor this weekend. (Drs still don't know what's wrong with her, though.) Praise the Lord that His steadfast love never ceases and His mercies are new each morning.

Light amongst the Bleakness

The day started out rather bleak this morning as I read the latest update this morning about my little Monkey Baby Lu. I wasn't so much surprised or shocked but felt a heaviness wash over me. I couldn't help but meditate on the words of Paul in Romans 12, "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer." I've read those words half a dozen times yet they've never had as much meaning to me as they do now. I don't know what's going to happen with Lu, but what I do know is that God formed her, He knows her by name and He loves her. And I put my hope, patience and faith in that as I pray for her. While I feel like I'm going out of my mind being thousands of miles away, I know that God is using this time to teach me patience, to teach me to trust and rely on Him solely, and to allow others back home to be able to use the gifts He's given them to reach out and help sister one and brother-in-law during this time. God will definitely use this time to let His light shine through during what seems like utter bleakness.

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On a different note... and this probably isn't even appropriate to be mentioning in this post, but non-the-less here I go... after Bible study tonight I learned from David that his family wanted to know where the "nice girl" was during the funeral for his aunt this afternoon, and that people kept asking his mother if he, David, had a girlfriend (meaning me). I couldn't help but laugh at that. I barely said five words and yet I'm now the "nice girl" and possible girlfriend. At least I know they didn't see me as an intrusion last night, which is comforting since I felt like an intrusion!

White in a sea of Dark Brown

This evening I spent about fifteen awkward minutes in the home of David's dad's family, who are currently grieving the loss of David's aunt (his dad's sister).

David, who is the worship leader at the church, asked me if I could pick his parents up from Heľpa since there were few buses running. I pick David up and we go to Heľpa. We arrive and David tells me to wait in the car while he locates his mom and dad. He disappears and then calls to ask me if I can wait 5-10 minutes. Okay, no problem... except that I'm in the car outside and it's cold! So I call David and ask if I'm supposed to wait in the car, to which he says yes. So I sit; I'm not about to go bust down the door of a house full of grieving gypsies! Plus, I don't know which house it is. A few seconds later David calls back and tells me I can come to the house. So I lock the car and find and enter what seems like a small cottage of sorts.

The room was small (it looked like it was one of two rooms with a small kitchen off to the side) with a haze of cigarette smoke hovering over everyone's head and a huge table full of food, hard liquor and ash trays; and sitting around the table were an entire clan of David's family on his dad's side, all very obviously gypsy (dark eyes, skin, hair... except for those with an obvious dye job) and all very obviously not talking much anymore and all very obviously staring at me, the white girl with blue eyes and sandy-brown/blond hair. I mumble a "dobry večer" (good evening) and after getting the quick glance over someone says Welcome. I thank them and then just stand there not knowing what to do or say. After what feels like eternity, David's mom (who I love and call my gypsy momma) tells me I should sit down, and then tells David to tell me sit down and then tells the people at the table to move over so I can sit down. I get sandwiched between David and a grandfather, who keeps looking at me with suspicion/curiosity, and David finally asks me how I'm feeling- which was underdressed. Everyone had resumed their conversations and David started talking with some cousins; I notice one of them was talking to David but looking directly at me; David starts laughing, turns to me and says, "They want to know if you're my girlfriend." I figured that's what was going on, but didn't know what to say other than no. David's parents eventually made their way across the room and the four of us said our goodbyes and left. Once in the car and heading back towards Z, I turned to David and say, "So, now that we're gone are they going to gossip about you bringing the 'white girl' into the house?" He just laughed and said, "Well, they did want to know if you were my girlfriend," to which I said, "Apparently."

Oh man. Awkward, yes. Hilarious, definitely! I came home and told my roommate about everything, to which she responded, "You seriously need to write a book about your experiences here for this year." I just might have to do that. But for now, the blog will have to do to regale you with the specialness that is me!

He Knows Lucy's Name

Yesterday I was listening to a CD I found in one of the CD players upstairs. It was one of those top-twenty something-worship song-experiences CDs, which I don't put a lot of stock into because so much (but not all) of todays christian music is so watered down and empty theologically. (I'm getting to the point where I prefer the songs in Slovak because they aren't translated word for word and have a little bit more meaning to them.) Anyway, as I was cooking and absentmindedly listening/singing along (when I wasn't pushing the "forward" button) one of the songs caught my attention. I put the song on repeat and started paying closer attention to the words. As I listened I couldn't help but insert Lu's name in the song; it just seemed to fit in so many ways. I don't know who originally wrote the song (Tommy Walker, maybe? At least that's what I get when I google it), but it's called He Knows My Name. Below is my (plagiarized) version of the song; I think it will speak for itself.

He Knows Lucy's Name
Lu has a Maker
He formed her heart
Before time began
Her life was in His hands

Ref: He knows her name
       He knows her every thought
       He sees each tear that falls
       and He hears her when she calls

Lu has a Father
He calls her His own
He'll never leave her
No matter when she goes

God is Good

It's been a great 24 hours here in Z. It seems like the last month has been riddled with various tension, problems, acts of stupidity (on my part), misunderstanding, cultural blunders (again, my fault), etc. Last night it was as if everything vanished and things went back to "normal," given that the definition of normal is the same for everyone. I'm so thankful to God for working in and through the hearts of the people here and my own heart and bringing back the unifying attitudes we as believers should have.

In other news, Lucy had her MRI yesterday. We are still awaiting the results, but it's been reported that she's more alert and awake since being taken off the paralytic and sedatives. She's also being weaned off the ventilator and is being allowed to sleep on her tummy (which she likes and prefers) to help her breathing (her left lung collapsed and the doctors are trying to get it "back up and running" and get rid of the fluid build up). While she's far from being completely healed, she seems to continue to improve a little each day and for that we praise God!

Monkey Baby Lucy

Lucy is the only girl in the Cardiac ICU at the moment, so the nurses "crowned" her. It's disgustingly cute, if you ask me. (For more information on how she's doing, click here.)

~Untitled~

"The LORD is righteous in all his ways and loving towards all he has made. The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. He fulfills the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cries and saves them." Psalm 145:17-19

These verses bring me peace and solace. With so much unknown, so many unanswered questions and so much uncertainty there is only one thing that is certain: God. He is a loving, compassionate, comforting, healing, merciful, righteous God, and that will never change. He promises that in all things God works for the good of those who love him. It's so easy to forget that, especially when things don't seem to be going the way we want them to. But God's way is not our way. And God's way is never wrong.

While we don't understand why He's seen fit to have Lucy in the ICU struggling for her life, He does. It doesn't make sense to us, but it makes sense to Him. And we'll probably never know this side of heaven why. But despite the uncertainty, we can rest assured that God has a plan for all this. And whatever that plan is we can be sure it's one He intends to use to bring Him glory, for his way is perfect. And we can and should take comfort in that.

Little Lu

This morning Lucy was given a breathing treatment which helped boost her heart rate into the 130s, which is where the doctor wanted it yesterday. As of right now, it's holding steady at 127. She's getting a little more capacity in her left lung, but that doesn't necessarily mean her heart is getting smaller. The doctors are saying she's doing well, and have slowly been weaning her off of meds and IVs as they've been able. The paralytic was stopped yesterday, and today they are reducing the heart meds, antibiotics and removing some of the IVs. (She's got four different IVs located on different parts of her body.) Also, there's a 50/50 chance of the MRI taking place tomorrow.

Lucy is still sedated and in the Cardiac ICU at Childrens. She'll be there for a while, too, as the doctors are predicting it could be ten days to 2 weeks before they know exactly what's causing everything. However, I'm thankful to God for answering prayers in helping our little Lu to improve a tiny bit each day. May His grace and mercy continue to abound.

My brother-in-law has set up a website called www.prayforlucy.com. That will be your best source for finding the most current information and knowing how to pray.

Again, thank you all so much for your love, thoughts and prayers. My family and I appreciate them so, so much. 

Patience Pineapple...

Ack! I need patience. The uncertainty, the unknown, the waiting... the time difference... is slowly starting to kill me! (Figuratively speaking, of course.) Half of me is ready to call the travel agent, march across the country to Vienna and hop on a plane headed to Texas, and the other half of me knows I need to sit still and be patient. Its a war between the two halves, really. They're duking it out inside my brain and distracting me from what I'm supposed to be doing. (I feel like the one side of my brain is saying, "All right Cleaver, outside!" while the other side is saying, "I'm sorry? Outside? Should I bring my dueling pistols or sword?") It's exhausting. And adrenaline pumping. And did I mention distracting? And I can't even run right now to release any of this! (I know, I know, would you like a little more cheese with that whine, Emily!)

But speaking of not being able to run, I'm feeling better. I've been keeping the leg in a brace during the day, especially when I know I'll be walking around a lot or do some light cleaning or something, and the tendon's feeling better. I'm off the pain medication now and I'm in a lot less pain, though it still hurts depending on the movement I make. I'm being very good and avoiding any activity that would strain or put too much pressure on the leg. (See, I can be good. I promise!) However, I do realize I am a far cry from being able to don my running shoes and hit the road. (Yeah, about that whine...)

Okay, I'm going to try and go do something useful and constructive in an attempt to distract my mind from its raging battle. Hmmm, what to do, where to start...

Take Two Aspirins and Call Me in the Morning!

So that pulled groin muscle I was talking about... yeah, not so much a pulled groin muscle. And how do I know this? Well, let me tell you.

Woke up this morning with lots of pain in my right leg; in a week the pain has traveled from the groin down to the knee (I'm not a doctor or anything, but I'm thinking that's not a good thing). I decided I should probably go to the doctor since my leg is kind of stiff and I can't walk very well. Go to Verona's house (the gal who used to live with me... did I mention she moved out?); apparently I woke her up... oops. V and I go to local doctor in Z; he's skeptical of me as I'm an American; I prove that I do live in Z and have papers to prove it, blah, blah, blah... doctor becomes a little more civil and helpful. Doctor palpates leg (doctor speak for feels around and does external tests to see what's wrong); he writes a scrip for the "Trauma Unit" (i.e. ER) in Brezno. V and I head to Brezno and go to the ER; I undress while male doctor pokes around. Get redressed and sent to Radiology; get a sonogram done of my leg, then sent back to ER. Get undressed again while a different male doctor (by this time I've resigned to the fact that I'm half naked and a male doctor is examining me, hairy legs and all) pokes and prods and asks me the same questions as the first doctor; then get sent to the surgical doctor. (By this time I'm guessing the sonogram results are inconclusive and they have no idea what's wrong with me.) Get undressed while male surgical doc (who speaks English!) feels around; he guesses it's a pulled ligament and recommends resting as much as possible for three weeks (i.e. no running, physical activity, heavy lifting/pulling, etc. AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!); then he sends me to the Orthopedic doc's office. Get undressed again and let male ortho doc feel around; he sends me back to Radiology for x-rays; Get undressed again (I spent a lot time half naked today), got the x-rays taken (by a woman who had no idea what my name was because I have three names and Slovaks only have two... it can be so confusing!) and went back to the ortho doc. Ortho diagnosed problem as a pulled ligament and prescribed some sort of cream (Slovaks love their creams) and rest for two weeks. Yeah, me, rest... that's an oxymoron. However, I know it's a much needed thing, so I will do it (even though I will go stir crazy) because if I don't I'll probably have to give up running altogether... and that would be a very sad day indeed.

I've come to the conclusion that by the time I leave Slovakia, I will be a pro at the police and medical system. I'm currently averaging about one trip to the hospital per month at the moment (not necessarily all for me), and with all my dealings with the police and an ongoing investigation of the thefts, let's face it, it's just inevitable.