New Super Mario Brothers.

I bought myself a Christmas present. :) Yay, for self-gifting!

Victor and Chici were just in the U.S. to do some promoting and Christmas shopping. I asked them to buy me a Wii game. My brother gave me his Wii last time I was home (thanks Theo!) and I have been wanting new games but they are so expensive. Especially here! They are about 30% more expensive.

So today I received my early Christmas present. Chici said I could pull it out this afternoon and play with the kids for an hour. All of a sudden it was over an hour and a half later! It was so much fun to play with them. But they were WIRED! They were so excited to play. More excited to play with me than I was to play with them. We were playing on teams of 4 and they kept killing me. Or stealing my prizes. So I am excited to play it again by myself. Somehow they have talked me into lending it to them this weekend. Sigh. Is this what being an aunt is about? You give in when you don't particularly want to? How do you say no when they are so cute??!!??

On a sad note, it seems that while we were playing, someone was stealing a bunch of money off my credit card. Over $1300. Stinker. So if you think to pray for me (and my credit card) I would appreciate it. It is just so much more difficult to take care of things from down here.

Well, happy 2 weeks until Christmas Eve! Can you believe Christmas is almost here? This year seems to have flown for me. Take care all!

Missionaries.

I don't know what you think when you hear the word "missionary". I think of the old stereotype of dowdy skirts, thick glasses, and all their "stuff" together. In other words they are very good people who love God and don't care much for the things of this world.

For this reason I hesitated for a long time to call myself a missionary. When I felt it was the right time to come down (I have felt this calling on my life for a long time) I knew I loved God. I knew I didn't wear skirts. I wore contacts. And most importantly, I didn't have my stuff together. So was I a missionary? What was my purpose in coming down here? To follow God's call on my life. I thought (and it turned out to be true) that I would also have a lot of fun.

I have met many missionaries since arriving. And let me tell you, it is true that they love God but they don't all have their stuff together. Does anyone really? I think we are continually striving to get to that point. The point of such complete oneness with God that all else just falls into place. Perfection. I believe this is something we will strive for our whole life and not actually see achieved here on earth. That can be a little depressing, but it is a fact. But that doesn't mean that we strive in vain. We learn new things every day. Things about ourselves. Things about God. Things about others. It is an interesting journey!

Lately I have not been striving. I haven't been reading my Bible or praying regularly. There are a few reasons for this but mostly it is due to laziness and no self-control when it comes to the TV (I am house-sitting for a friend who has cable). And I haven't been feeling good about that and I find I am not hearing God's voice at all. How can I hear him above the noise of my TV?

Yesterday I went to a 2 day conference for missionaries. There were about 25 of us and I knew about 5 of them. The average age (not including my own age and the one other girl who was 20) was definitely late 50's to 60's. This happens a lot. I have a couple of very close friends who are my age but the majority are older. This doesn't bother me like I thought it would. It is nice to have people who I respect and have much more knowledge than I and are freely willing to share with me. They are not perfect by any means. But they have gone through some of the stuff I am going through or have gone through in the past. I enjoy it to be honest. I have so much to learn from them.

The team that was here was from Gateway Church in Texas. There were 3 men who were leaders of something called Freedom Ministries. It was amazing. Bob Hamp's definition of freedom is "the ability to live life as the person you are created and redeemed to be." I learned so much. I don't think I can share much right now as there is a lot to process and work through. But it was good.

I don't have to be perfect or even pretend to be perfect to be a missionary. Oswald Chambers said "The goal of a missionary is to do God's will, not to be useful or to win the lost. A missionary is useful and does win the lost but that is not his goal. His goal is to do the will of his Lord." I love that. Kind of takes the pressure off! :) Hard to do, but it is ever so good when you do.

So in order to do His will, I need to be able to hear His voice. And in order to do that I need to pray and listen regularly, and study the word of God. We need times of quiet in order to hear. And we need practice in listening.

So for those of you who are getting geared up and busy with this Christmas season, I encourage you to take your time. Spend time with God. The best thing you could ever do for yourself.

This was a bit random and disjointed but I just wanted to put a few of my thoughts out there.

Goodnight!

Good day.

One really good thing happened today.

I am a hugger. I love to cuddle kids and give them hugs and kisses and tell them I love them.

I work in a predominantly male, children's home. This is a conflict at times.

When I first started there I took a bit of time but it wasn't long before I wanted to hug and kiss them all the time because they were so darn cute! And they do need it. The female staff member is always with the girls so the boys weren't exposed to much lovey dovey affection.

At first they fought it. Outwardly anyway. Then they gradually began to accept it. They figured I wasn't going to quit. And to be honest: they really do love it and need it. They often taunt me by saying I haven't given them a hug yet that day. They know I am immediately coming after them then! Lately there have been 2 of the medium boys who have been really needy. Seeking me out and accepting my attention and affection for as long as I am willing to give it. That has got to be the best part of my job.

But there has been one boy in particular who has really been resisting it. So much so that I got to the point where I thought he might be serious and not just pretending he didn't want it. He seemed to sense when I was about to attack (I sometimes have to just grab them and kiss them really fast. It usually ends up on their neck or on hands that are protecting their face) and he would run away. Today I was working on the computer after lunch and the kids were watching some stuff on the computer next to me. Well, I was trying to work. I kept hearing "Tia Naomi, look" and then I would have to see the next cool thing that came up. To be honest, the video was pretty neat. It was about nature and the amazing way that God created everything. Anyway, when I got distracted I would start to lean on the back of this boys chair. Then I leaned my chin on his head. Or I just put my hand on the back of his neck (my hands were really cold and I wanted to warm them up. I actually thought it would bug him too but it didn't!). Then he was eventually leaning against me and I kept my arm around him in a hug. This went on for a long time. In between my "working".

I am just happy that he was accepting of it. And seemed to want it again. Appropriate physical affection is such an important part of our development, even more so for these kids who have been rejected and abused. I am just glad I get to be the person that gives out that affection. :)

So it made me happy. I will continue on in my quest to give the most hugs and kisses ever.

And tomorrow the girls are coming to my house for the evening!! That will be exciting. I love having them over. Pictures to come!

P.S. I know this post could sound a little weird if you don't know me. I am very aware that they are boys and that a lot of them have an unfortunate history with sexual abuse. I am careful. There are always other people around and everyone is subject to the same amount of love. They are never required to hug or kiss me but I love it when they do! I actually had to teach a couple of them how to kiss! They would just put their lips on my cheek. I had to show them that you have to make the sound! Too funny.

Puff, the Magic Dragon.

This song is playing on my iPod so I thought I would make it my blog title. Some people think that this song is about drugs. Not me. Just a cute lil green dragon that lost his little boy to adulthood. Who wants to be an adult anyway??? Not me!

I am now finishing my first 6 months at Rehoboth Children's Home. When I started I didn't really know what was in store for me. To be honest, I thought it would be like a fun summer camp all the time. It seemed that way at first. I would play with the kids and have fun and thought I was very blessed to be doing this work.

I still feel (and AM) very blessed but things have been very different these past 6 months. At first I was just hanging out with the kids. I was helping with chores and doing a few things like starting the blog for the home and making a facebook page. Just little fluff things. I wasn't directly responsible for anyone or anything and I was just fine with that!

After a couple of months I was asked to take over as the second house parent to cover for days off. Uh oh! Responsibility! I was resistant, but only in my mind. I had committed myself to be under Chici and Victor for 2 years to learn all about running a home. To me, that didn't include being a house parent. Embarrassing to admit, but true. I thought that I would stick it out for a month or so and then they would bring in someone else to take over.

That didn't happen and I can now truly say that I am happy I did it. That I am still doing it. I had a really rough time for several weeks. The kids were testing me. I went from a fun visitor to being an authority figure and really, who likes authority?!? They tested me and tried me and had me running out back to cry several times. I went home mad at everyone often. I had no idea it would be that difficult for me. And I was going home at night and had my weekends off!

I have experience with kids. I baby-sat them. I taught hundreds how to swim. I worked with them in the hospital. I had best friends with kids (that I spent a LOT of time with). So I thought I could handle them. And I couldn't. All my previous experience was with a small, "controlled" group of kids. This was 14 boys all at once and me trying to control a situation in a language I don't have a complete grasp of. Especially when I am angry or trying to get kids to obey me!

After a couple of months (maybe less, I don't remember) I went to Chici and asked flat out if she thought I was cut out for this job. She said she didn't know. She wanted me to give it another month and we would see.

To be honest, I have no idea when that month was up. We didn't have to talk about it again. I started praying daily for patience and wisdom. I started controlling small situations better. I was giving out more punishments. I started to get to know them and their different personalities. And they all have very different personalities. And things started to get better. I wasn't going home angry and frustrated. I wasn't crying. The kids were obeying. And I still enjoyed being with them.

I am so glad we are at this point now. This is not to say everything is perfect. I still have "off" days. But I can truly say I love all of them. There is not one child that I think "I wish he wasn't here" or "things would be easier without this child". God has given me such an incredible love for these kiddos. I am happy to be a part of their family.

Any visitor that is a volunteer or going to be working with the kids has to be called "brother" or "sister" (insert name) or "uncle" or "aunt". Most of the kids started calling me Tia Naomi (Aunt Naomi) right away but there were several that didn't. For them, it was a title to be earned. Though I don't remember the time frame I remember each moment when I realized certain kids had made the switch from Sister Naomi to Aunt Naomi. I had earned respect and a family tie in their minds. This makes it special for me. Now only the 18 and 19 year olds call me Sister Naomi. That is okay with me. I can't be an auntie to a 19 year old! Wasn't I just 19 a few years ago??

I love how the older ones joke around while we are doing dishes. I love how they share their Game-boys with me and sit next to me to cheer me on and how they want me to play soccer with them even though I am terrible at it! I love how the medium boys "hate" kisses and yet, if I haven't kissed them yet that day the say "you can't kiss me" and run away saying they don't want one and they hate them. Aren't they just asking for it?? I love how they want to play games with me. I love how the little ones just want to be held by me. How they want me to watch every movement they make. I love how they all like to check on what month is their month to visit my house for the evening. And then try to argue the order when they think their month is too far away.

Being a house-parent and being so involved in their lives has given me so much more than I could have known when I was hiding behind the pila to cry. I am still learning administrative stuff too. But I see know how it is all related.

I thought it was funny. I was dreading summer vacation a bit. I wondered what we would do with all that time on our hands!! Would they be bored and restless? Would there just be too many kids for me there all day? After 2 weeks I can tell you. I love having them home! Things are more relaxed. There are still scheduled activities and chores but we can play and too be honest, that is my favorite thing to do. I even like it when I am working on the computer and they detour past me just to say hi, to see what I am doing, to tell me I haven't kissed them yet that day, or just to stand next to me.

I guess I can't fully express all that I have in my heart right now. I may have even gone on too long anyway. I just now know how it feels to have kids truly love you. Even when I yell at them, or punish them, they still know I love them and they still keep coming back for more of that love. And like I tell them, nothing they do will change my love for them. But sometimes I think they want to test that! :)

I have truly found my place here in Guatemala. When we have teams they come and they play with the kids and then go home. They think they have had a great time with my kids. But they don't know the half of it. I'm the one they call auntie. I'm the one they tattle to. I'm the one that holds the little ones when they are hurt. I'm the one they joke around with and want to tell stories to. I'm the one who is so blessed to be a part of their family. I don't miss home anymore. Although I would love to have more visitors! ;)

Well, that is it. I am done with the mushy stuff for tonight. I keep tearing up thinking of all the great things that these kids do and how fantastic they are to me. So goodnight all. Sleep well and know that I am very, very happy. :)

Carlos.

(Carlos is not his real name. But for some reason I want to protect him so I am going to call him Carlos.)

I love Carlos. He breaks my heart. And he has been heavy on my heart for a few days now.

He is about 10 years old. I noticed him first because he would come running to give me a hug whenever I came (before I started full time) and would be so happy to see me. Who wouldn't love that?

As time went on I got to know him better. He has such a deep need to be loved, I don't think anyone, no matter who much they give him, will ever fill that need for him.

And as I got to know him I realized how he interacted with others. He is annoying. His desire to be involved or included is so great that it is overwhelming to those around him. If someone is playing a game he has to get right up beside them to watch. If someone is wrestling on the floor he has to throw himself on top of them. If someone is joking about something he has to laugh the loudest while looking around to see who is laughing with him. If no one is paying attention to him he has to hit another child, or tease them, or throw things at them (paper, erasers, etc.). Anything to get ANY kind of attention. And that just makes things worse.

He feels rejection so acutely. And when he feels rejected from me and he cries, it tears my heart into pieces. When he is doing homework he often cries if I tell him he needs to correct what he has done. This doesn't bother me as much. But when he is in trouble and he is in his room in a time out and I don't play with him or let him do something else; this is when he feels his most acute rejection from me. And he is in his room a lot lately.

He was told at the beginning of September that he would be going back to his home at the end of October. The courts wanted him to be able to finish out this school year. But his home situation is no bed of roses. Hence, him being with us. But the courts ordered (without a full investigation) that he be returned to his family. There are some family members that truly care for him and others who don't. But none of them want him to come back to the family house.

Since then he has been acting out even more. He broke a table at school. He ripped his backpack. He threw a rock at another boy from our home who attends the same school as him. He got into a fight with that other boy. And he fought again. And again.

It was explained to me by someone from the outside (she is a social worker in North America and volunteering with us for a bit) why he is doing that. And it ripped my heart out all over again.

He knows he is leaving. And it hurts. So if he gets everyone at school and the home mad at him, he can be mad at them, and it won't hurt so bad when he actually leaves. Oh God, help me.

I just want to steal him from the home, take him with me and pour into him for the rest of his life.

And sometimes I am the hardest on him. Aren't we often hardest on the ones we love the most?

I want everyone else to love him like I do. So I want him to change who he is so he is more loveable. I want him to not hike his pants up so high. I want him to not sit too close to the other kids unless they don't mind. I want him to be smarter so they won't make fun of him when he plays a new game and doesn't understand. I want him to stop fighting. For attention. I want him to stop playing when he is supposed to be doing chores so that no one can get mad at him for that.

In doing all that, I appear harsh at times. And yet every day, he comes running up to me after school and gives me the biggest hug. Every day.

A few weeks ago when he broke a table at school I wanted to talk to him about it. To convince him to not do it again so nobody would be mad at him. I asked him why he did it. Did he do it accidently? No. Did he do it because he was mad? No. Did he do it for attention? Yes.

Yesterday he had been in his room for a time out. For fighting. Again. He was playing with a toy. Which is not allowed in a time out. So I said he had to put it away and sit by the wall. I would rather be mad at him myself than have someone else mad at him. He started to cry (which doesn't always bother me) but then he looked up at me and I could see it. I was just another person in his life that didn't love him. That was always mad at him. That didn't accept him for who he was. Even as I write this I am crying again.

I left without saying anything. Later in the day he was sweeping in the boys room. I came up to him and told him I love him (which I often do). I asked if he knew that. He said yes. I asked him if I loved him when I was mad at him. He said no, I didn't. Really? How can he not know I love him every second of every day????

Well, let's see. He is 10. And some of his family members died. So they left him. Those who moved in to replace them didn't love him. So he had to come to us. And the kids are annoyed by him and reject him. The adults seem to be always mad at him. And now he has to go back to that family. So he is leaving us. What do I expect??

And yet, this kid remains happy. He sings and dances sometimes when he is sweeping. He loves coming to my house and often asks when he can go again. Today? Tomorrow? 5 days from now? (As a side note. They kids have a chance every 4 months to come to my house. Every month I have a different group. And he seems to have NO concept of 4 months from now.) He runs to me and hugs me whenever he comes home from school. If he is at the home when I get there in the a.m. he often runs to the car to hug me. He can play with his little toys and amuse himself and find others funny. For all his rejection and unhappiness, he is a very resilient little boy.

I mentioned earlier that he has a need for love that no one can fill. I am trying my hardest but I know it is not enough. He needs Jesus. Jesus can do this for him. But he needs to be taught. He needs to accept Him. He needs to remember when he goes back to his home and is being rejected over and over and over again.

So please pray for Carlos. And pray for me. That I can make the most of the time we have left together. That I can tell him how much I love him. That I can show him. That I can show him how much Jesus loves him and wants to be his Daddy. That Jesus is the one who will never reject him.

And pray for my heart. That will be breaking as he leaves me.

Update: It is now a few hours later. I was talking with the director of the Home. She told me more about his family history. It breaks me even more.

His dad was killed in front of him by a gang member last Christmas. Seriously??? In front of him! And then his mom took off and ran away to live in the U.S. I think an adult would have trouble dealing with that, let alone a little boy.

We do have a psychologist that comes in every Saturday to meet with our kids on an individual basis. But he is going to need a LOT more than some therapy. He needs the healing that only Jesus can bring him. Please pray.

Cheesy Cheetos.

This morning as I was getting ready to go to the Home I noticed some bright orange stuff on my jeans. And I thought of Noe. On Monday I was eating a bag of Cheetos and sharing with him. Inevitably that orange "cheese flavoring" was all over his hand. He didn't notice it for a while and hence it was on his face, the chair and my jeans. I noticed it but it didn't bother me. In Canada it would have. I am clean. I keep my clothes clean, my bed clean, and my room.... well, sometimes clean. Here in Guatemala my room is always clean. Just for the record. But I used to have a roommate and she would beg to differ that my room was always clean in Canada.

Anyway, I am still wearing the jeans. And I have all week. I don't like to use a lot of water here (to wash). And I just don't care. Plain and simple. I am glad I have changed. And now, when I look down and see "cheese flavoring" on my pants I can smile and think of my little guy.

Tomorrow is Friday. Good.

Hello all. I am tired. I don't like being by myself at home at night all the time. It is not too bad, not like it was at the beginning. But when my friend found a dog and asked me to foster him until she found his family I said yes. That was over a month ago now. He is mine. But he likes to wake up at 5:30. I used to get up right away and walk him because I would rather get up early then clean up pee, or even worse, poo, later on. That got old VERY fast. Those of you who know me really well will understand that. So now I make him go back to his bed and he promptly falls asleep while I lay there. It is good praying time but I am not always in the best of moods! I have thought about giving that little turkey away. But not sure if I want to yet.

Anyway, Tuesday I woke up and thought it was Friday and it wasn't. Not even close. And now tomorrow it will be. And my dog is at a sitter's place because I am at my friends house looking after her father-in-law while she and her family are in the U.S. So I am GOING to sleep in on Saturday. And that will be a good thing.

That really had nothing to do with anything. I didn't have any lesson or funny story or anything. Hmmm. On to other things then.

I stink at keeping up this blog. Wait. You already know that.

I went to breakfast with a friend of mine on Sunday. We have been family friends since she was about 3 years old (she is now 19). She was volunteering in a place called Tactic and was helping host all the teams that they have come through. I saw her 3 times in the six weeks she was here and let me tell you, it was great. I had two other people I thought were coming down and unfortunately neither of them can come now. So it is nice to have a bit of "home" here.

We decided to splurge ($11.) and go to a nice hotel for a buffet breakfast. I have wanted to go since June of last year when a surgical team I helped out let me stay with them for the night. The food is amazing! And plentiful. They have an omelet bar. You pick what you want to put in it. And they have fried plantains which are my favorite here.

When we got there the waiter said we could leave our bags at the table. I had already spoke to him in Spanish so I couldn't fake that I didn't understand but I sure wasn't going to leave my bag at the table no matter how nice the place was! So we just took them with us. When I went to sit down, Michelle put her bag down and went back for something else. She is skinny so she was allowed. The waiter came up and zap strapped our bags to our chairs! Too funny! I loved it. But didn't feel quite cheesy enough to take a picture of it. After all, we were in a nice restaurant.

Then we went to my church. Let me preface this story by saying that Michelle is a Music major in University, and my worship leader has a good heart and a voice that sings in tune but almost no timing whatsoever. It really threw me when I first started attending. I had a hard time worshipping when I knew he was coming in anywhere from 3-8 beats late. Anyway, we get to a song that Michelle actually knows. Poor girl. She didn't know the previous songs so she had no idea what was in store. She starts singing in the most beautiful voice and then finds herself singing in time, but singing alone. After about 2 verses she heads to the bathroom. I thought she might be sick because she had mentioned that she likes this song and I didn't think she would leave in the middle of it. But when she came back she said she was fine. I figured out later she must have left because it was impossible for her to sing like she wanted to. Ah Guatemala, how I love you. :)

Well, that is it for tonight. I am tired. I just needed to get my blog count back up again so here it is. Please don't give up on me!!! Take care all. God bless.