Dwell Well

LINKS FOR LIFE!

We're making a paper chain. Why? A few weeks ago I (Josh) was at a boring meeting waiting for my mom. Some kids were making a paper chain as a craft so I joined in and made my own then brought the chain home. Jorge is my neighbor and friend and when I showed him we decided to make the chain longer. We were really excited and decided to make one that would break the world's record!

Then we found out that the paper chain world record is more than 50 miles long. Uh - that was pretty discouraging. Plus they had almost 60 people making it together.

Then - we talked with my dad about another idea and now we're excited again but this time to break the paper chain record for two nine year olds in our city and help hungry kids who need food and education at the same time.

Our staplers are ready and we want your help! So far our chain already has just over 300 links but we have a long way to go.

It only takes ten cents to feed one kid a meal.

NOW we are working to make a chain that will hopefully reach 1,501 LINKS!

So... would you sponsor one penny per link ($15) OR 2 cents per link OR as much as you can give. We want to finish our chain before Jorge turns ten on September 20th and Josh turns ten on Sept 26th. Our goal is to give at least $1,001 to help these kids in Africa. Please sponsor us before September 31st. ok?

Just click the Give Now button below to join the chain and PLEASE tell your family and friends about what we're doing so they can help too!

LINKS FOR LIFE!


Thank You!

"The power of intense feeling and interest is perhaps never felt more clearly than when one observes the effect of a good story upon a group of children. All who have told stories, even in the most casual way, must have experienced mysteriously satisfying moments when, by some happy chance, they have quite unexpectedly seemed to touch the very heart of childhood—when the children have listened breathlessly to the end of the story, and the story-teller has emerged from his ecstasy with the feeling that he has given something that will be a permanent possession."

From the book "Story-Telling in School and Home," by Evelyn Newcomb Partridge and George Everett Partridge....

This is a story from Juli McGowan who cares for the inflicted in Kenya. She is an amazing young lady who carries the unfathomable weight of the sick and dying in Africa. Here is a post from her blog.

“None of us, I am sure knows the pain of hunger,
but one day I learned it from a little child.
I found the child in the street and I saw in her face that
terrible hunger that I have seen in many eyes.
Without questioning her I gave her a piece of bread, and then
I saw that the little child was eating the bread crumb by crumb.
And I said to her: Eat the bread. And that little one looked at me and said:
I am afraid because when the bread is finished I will be hungry again.”
-Mother Teresa

I have been looking into the eyes of children who are experiencing “terrible hunger”. Whether their hunger is from lack of food or from lack of love, their eyes tell their stories of pain and emptiness and they ask questions about the hope of their futures. Two weeks ago, a desperate grandmother stood before me asking for help. She was holding a chubby baby that, upon first glance, appeared to be approximately six months old and healthy. But when she gave me the child to assess him further, I was shocked to see that his mouth was full of teeth. I quickly asked the age of the baby; and the grandmother responded: “fifteen months”. I was moved as she told me of her struggle to care for her grandson, Kevin. Close to the time of Kevin’s birth, his father passed away; and when he was merely four months old, his mother left to try and find work. She has not returned.

Kevin has been surviving on a diet of only cornmeal porridge. Amongst the poor, diets often consist of single staples, such as maize, which have a low protein to energy ratio. His “chubbiness” was, ironically enough, the result of severe malnutrition that caused his body to swell. His growth was stunted, and he was significantly delayed developmentally. Unable to crawl, stand, walk, speak or play; this little one rested in my arms. I asked God for help, for wisdom.

Kwashiorkor, the form of protein and micronutrient deficiency Kevin suffers with, was termed by the Ga tribe in Ghana for being “the disease of the displaced child”. It was originally given this name because it was a condition typically seen in young children prematurely weaned from their mother’s breast milk after the birth of a subsequent child. In today’s world, the consequences of HIV/AIDS and extreme poverty have brought new meaning and significance to these “displaced” children. Their vulnerability is not only from losing the nourishment of their mothers. They have lost their mothers themselves. Their struggle for survival, for hope is great.

Kevin arrived to Tumaini na Afya’s Kimbilio Center (Hope & Health’s Refuge) weighing thirteen pounds. He was irritable and weak. Within one week of receiving a special formula and lots of love, Kevin has stabilized. He has been eating well and has gained a pound. He has begun to laugh and play; and quite unbelievably, he has gained enough strength to stand up by himself and is trying to walk. When I think about Kevin, I think about a powerful promise that Jesus gave when he said: “if you receive a child in my name, you receive me.”
I recently held another little baby so beaten by this world. She was covered in filth; but as I held her frightened body, I was struck by the thought that our value has nothing to do with what we possess. It does depend upon our appearance or by what we do. Washing the child was not going to make her worthy of affection. Her value was hidden under dirt and rags, and this is what caused us to bathe her.

When I think about the suffering of these “displaced” children, there are so many questions that I do not have answers to. Sometimes the circumstances that surround are so overwhelming I do not even know what questions to ask. But my prayer is that God will give me the grace to keep looking into their eyes and the compassion to give a cup of water, a piece of bread, or whatever may be required in Jesus name.

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us now and forevermore.

With love, Juli McGowan
Empowering Lives International

I didn't know how great I had it my first year at Vanguard University (at the time SCC). I was planted on the 6th floor of the men's dorm. My room was the first door to the right when you get off the elevator. Next door to me lived Michael Viser. I am honored to know him. Take a moment to hear his story.

Wells For Life from Wells For Life on Vimeo.

But not the good kind.

Half way through last week's "stain the deck" chore I ran out of stain. So last night on my way home, I made a quick stop at Home Depot to pick up another gallon of stain. I'm not too keen on the idea of paying $35 for stain. The first gallon was $5 on the fix match pile so I thought, perhaps, I might find another "deal." Low and behold a sparkling new gallon of stain awaited my arrival in the mix and match pile. It looked close enough to the other color, well, the can said cedar red and everyone loves cedar right? What could go wrong?

I brought the stain up to the register where the cashier rung it up. I had my debit card ready to swipe when she said, "It says one cent. That can't be right. Let me ring it up again. Sure enough. One penny." One penny! I searched my pockets but I had no change. Suddenly I'm in that awkward position where I have the bargain of the century but no change. Do I swipe my debit card for a one cent purchase? "I have a penny," she said, as she pulled out a few coins, handed me my receipt and I was on my way.

By the time I got home everyone was at the dinner table. "I have my blessing!" (In order to encourage attentiveness throughout the day, we share a blessing that happened to us that day.) I told the story proudly motioning to the brand new can of stain. After dinner I donned my grubbies and headed out to fend off the insects in the cool of the evening. Applying the stain in a test patch, I stepped back and thought, "Hmmm, that looks pretty pink." I got a second opinion from my wife and she recommended I wait until it dries to see what it really looks like. A few minutes passed and I stood there staring at the "test patch" wondering if it was really big enough to "get a feel for the color." Besides, I was getting impatient waiting for the stain to chance into an acceptable color. So, I stained a little more, then a little more.

My test patch kept getting bigger and bigger until I realized I had gone too far. You know, that sinking feeling you get when you realize a project has taken a wrong turn, but now you've got to finish the job. It's that same feeling you get when you see those old photos of you in the 80's with your yellow jacket sleeves rolled up to your elbows. I ended up staining the entire stairs thinking the transition from pink stairs to brown deck might make sense. Let me quench your curiosity, it doesn't. Did I mention my wife loves me in spite of myself? These are the stories people tell about you after your dead. "Do you remember the time dad got that pink wood stain for a penny? We had the only pink deck in the neighborhood."

Deck tours will begin tomorrow at noon. Come on by. Admission is one penny.

Adoption. Hmmmmmmmm, where do I begin. Certainly I am learning more than I had anticipated. Actually, the experiences I am having are different than I had expected. I discovered new perspectives on life and relationships when I had kids. Now that we have entered into the adoption realm, new epiphanies are popping up everywhere.


This morning as my daughter left the house with our crew, she popped back in my room and said, I love you. It was a heart stopper to be sure.

So, here is my equivalent to the "missionary slideshow." I hope you are moved by the pictures. The amazing thing about Africa is the expanse of the poverty. Mile after mile, the pictures remain the same. The images in the countryside are from our trip south. It was a four hour drive. There was lots of time to reflect and take it all in. I recall the phrases that repeated over and over in my head during the trip. "We must do something to help. What can we do? What can I do?"

Ethiopia Snapshots from johnny rogers on Vimeo.

We have just returned from Ethiopia. It was a ten day trip. We stayed primarily in Addis Ababa the capital of Ethiopia. One of the days we traveled four hours south to Hosanna to visit the orphanage our daughter came from. It was an emotional trip for many reasons. Sickness, exhaustion and emotional drain were the themes of the trip. We're glad to be home and feeling a little more strength. I look forward to sharing more of our post-trip thoughts.

About to board the plane for the 20+ hour trip home. Pray for us! That is a LONG flight!

After taking an Ethiopian cooking class in the morning (can we learn to make injera?), the remainder of the day is set aside for packing up and saying good-bye to the families that we have spent the week with. We are taking lots of pictures so that we can show Gracie the beautiful country that she was born in.

Today we will be at the guest house. It will be our first full day with Gracie. We've brought lots of goodies to play with.

This morning, after spending time playing with Gracie at the orphanage, they have a special going-away celebration planned for all of the children leaving with their families this week. After the celebration Gracie will leave the orphanage and stay with us for the remainder of the trip.

This morning we will visit the orphanage and spend time getting to know Gracie's nanny. She will be helping us learn more about the care Grace has received and what to expect in her routine.

Today we will travel down to the Hosanna orphanage where Grace originally stayed. There we will meet the birth mom. There is a translator and a time to talk followed by a short ceremony. It is a 4 hour drive down and back. We will be traveling with other families as well.