I hate that I have to blog without pictures, but check sweetsleep and facebook if you want to see a few.

I don't really have time to blog much tonight, but I just wanted to let you know that I am alive and well and so beyond happy to be here. This trip couldn't have been more perfect so far. I am in love.

We spent the entire day here at the compound with the kids. We've done a lot of singing, some arts and crafts, painted some fingernails, played duck, duck, goose, more singing, coloring, games and more singing. These kids are incredibly beautiful, sweet, funny, and mostly just desperate for attention.

There are a few that you can tell are emotionally traumatized. There is a 13-year-old that will be having a baby in a month and a half. I don't think her trauma started with the earthquake. There are little babies that walk around mostly naked. There is a little boy pushing around a walker because apparently when the quake hit his legs were stuck in a full split and his hip was badly injured. There is a little boy whose mom sent him out for groceries on the day of the quake and when he came back in he found both parents dead. He wandered around doing whatever he could to survive for a few days until he was picked up and taken to the hospital. That's how he ended up here.

For the most part, a lot of the kids seem perfectly normal. Yes, they want to be loved and touched and held. So do my kids. They fight for attention and want to be at the front of the line when we're passing stuff out. So would mine. They can sing and dance their hearts out just like mine. And yet they have witnessed unspeakable tragedy and massive loss. Their world has been permanently altered. There is no chance of them forgetting about the quake and moving on with their lives like the rest of us will tend to do.

Yesterday afternoon, there was a boy named John who came and sat next to me at one point. I was holding a little 4-year-old girl at the time, but he was content to just sit by me. He's really quiet and has a beautiful smile. He smiles at me whenever I smile at him, but other than that he sort of has a sad, withdrawn look about him.

As he was sitting there, he kept getting closer and closer. Eventually he put his arm around my waist. He was sitting so still. I almost started to feel weird about it since he was older. And suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks that he is Brad's age. What does Brad do when he is sad or upset about something? He wants to snuggle with me. He wants to sit quietly with his arm around me. He just wants to know I'm there and that I'm going to take care of him and love him. I was overwhelmed with the idea that I was filling in for John's mommy. Such a poor substitute, but at the moment I was the best he could find. I squeezed him so tight and we just sat there for a long time.

John has become my bud. I'll post his picture on Facebook so you can see him. But we're pretty tight. He's not always with me, but sooner or later he ends up next to me.

Today the mammas decided to do our hair in braids. Unfortunately you can see that picture on Facebook as well. But while mine was getting done, John stood patiently holding my massive hair out of the way so it could get braided. He barely says a word, but when it was done he smiled at me and said "jolie," which means he thought it was pretty. There are no words.

Tonight I had the unspeakable privilege of rocking a baby to sleep while participating in an all-out praise fest. The kids were singing praises to our Jesus in a language I couldn't understand but the meaning was printed all over their face.

How can they be so thankful? How do they know how to worship like this in the midst of unspeakable circumstances? Why do I hold so much back when I have been blessed beyond anything I could ever hope to deserve?

Tomorrow is Sunday. We'll be driving an hour or so to Pastor Moises' church. He found out this week that his 8-yr-old son had been killed when they finally pulled his body out of the rubble. The church is completely demolished, yet we'll be worshipping outside next to it with his congregation. Again, no words.

We have to get up super early, and I'm already anticipating being awakened by the same demon-possessed roosters that serenaded me when this day began, so I'll sign off for now.

Please keep praying. Not just for us. Pray for Haiti. The work is overwhelming. There were heavy rains today that flooded several villages in the south. This is not good news.

Love to you all.

It's 2:15. Meredith is supposed to be here to get me in an hour. I just finished getting everything ready, so the question of whether or not I should sleep became moot a while back. I know I would have just been awake in bed anyway, so it probably doesn't matter. I never seem to sleep under these circumstances.

There are so many thoughts swirling through my head about what the next week will hold. There are so many unknowns. There are quite a few fears, some larger than others. Mostly, though, there is an indescribable joy over what I'm about to get to do.

Many of you have been walking with me on a journey lately. Lots of us have described a feeling of restlessness, of feeling like God is up to something and not being exactly sure what it is. I know that I have been relentlessly pounded over the past several weeks with the message of the cost of discipleship. Over and over, I hear Jesus telling me that He requires everything from me, not just the parts that are easy or safe to give. I have spent a lot of time reading Katie's blog and sitting in awe over the faith in action of someone virtually half my age. I am so grateful to have the opportunity to put mine in gear.

One thing God is teaching me. He did not call me to be comfortable. He did not bless me with so much in order for me to simply add it to my inventory. Like the parable of the talents, He expects a return on his investment. It's time to get radical, and I can't wait.

I am desperate your prayers for me and the rest of the team over the next week. I fully expect to be overwhelmed with what I see and experience. I fully expect to want to scoop up dozens of orphans and bring them home. (Don't worry - I know better.) I fully expect an onslaught of attack from a ruthless enemy. I fully expect God to require more from me than ever before. Don't stop praying for me when we are safely back in the U.S. I feel that will just be the beginning.

I'll blog when I can, but it may not get fully fleshed out until I'm back. If you don't see anything here, click on the link to Sweet Sleep for updates from the team.

Love to you all,

LA :)

Weekend in Pics

We Made It!

Long before Haiti came up, Jeff and I had planned a weekend trip to Gatlinburg. Thanks to a fabulous mother-in-law, we were able to leave the city kid-free. It took longer to get out of town this morning than we had hoped. The CDC issued a recommendation that all travelers to Haiti get the typhoid vaccine. It has to be in your system for a week, so we rearranged things this morning to include a trip to the doctor. We finally got away a little before lunchtime and now we are all settled in to our cozy little cabin.

We just had some time with God, thanking Him for this time away and asking Him to help us forget everything else for a couple of days and rest. Stress will be there when we get back. But for now...

These are the folks I'm heading to Haiti with in eleven days. It's a great team, and I'm really excited about having the chance to serve alongside them.

I will admit that I am more anxious about this trip than my previous ones, probably for obvious reasons. I specifically want to ask for prayer for these things:

Our health. There is some nasty stuff going around down there, not to mention the normal threat of malaria and intestinal issues from the conditions we're shocking our bodies with.

Our travel. We are flying out at 6 a.m. on the 25th. That means I have to be at the airport at 4, which means we have to leave here about 3:15. I know that I won't sleep that night, so I anticipate that it's going to be a really long day. We'll be flying to Miami and then the Dominican, where we'll spend the night. Then we're going to board a bus at 4 a.m. and drive for six hours to Port-au-Prince. Hopefully it won't be as bad as it sounds, but I'm envisioning the bus rides through Third World countries I've seen in movies and on TV, so I'm thinking there won't be much sleeping going on there either.

Our attitudes. Lack of sleep usually doesn't improve anyone's personality. So please pray that when we arrive at that orphanage we will have a supernatural infusion of energy and be ready to love on those kids as soon as our feet hit the dirt.

Other than that, please just pray for our general spiritual and physical protection. I'm sure I'll have more requests as time goes on, but this is a great place for you to start. Jen Gash left for the Dominican today, and she's heading to Port-au-Prince tomorrow. Please say a prayer for her safety as well.

Thank you, friends!

Giving Till it Hurts

One day late last week Bailey and I were having lunch at Cici's Pizza. As we were stuffing ourselves with mac n' cheese pizza and cinnamon rolls, an elderly woman walked up to our table and handed me two pens wrapped in a rubber band with a note that said, "I am a deaf mute. I am selling these items for $2."

My first instinct? Hand them back to her and politely say, "No, thank you." My second thought, "Isn't management going to do something about this?"

As she walked away, Bailey asked me, "Mommy, what did that note say?" Right then, I knew I had blown it.

I explained to Bailey that the lady was poor and was basically asking for money. She looked at me with an incredulous expression and said, "Well, aren't we going to give her some?"

You see, my daughter isn't old enough to be cynical. It doesn't occur to her to wonder what someone will do with the money you give them. She doesn't think about things like welfare that are designed to help people like that. She heard a sweet old lady ask for money, and she watched me send her away.

As my heart grew tighter and tighter in my chest, I had the vantage point of watching the lady walk to each table and get quietly rejected over and over again.

Feeling like I needed to salvage the moment, I began digging in my purse to see what I had that I could give. My choices were a $10 bill and the 75 cents I had in my change purse. I actually said, "I wish I had some smaller bills, but I guess this is better than nothing." I handed Bailey the 75 cents and watched her gleefully and excitedly wind her way through the tables to give to this woman. She knows what it means to be a cheerful giver. Clearly, I don't.

I have thought about this so much over the last few days. I'm reading "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan, and this past week he described a characteristic of lukewarm Christianity. He said, "Lukewarm people give money to charity and to the church... as long as it doesn't impinge on their standard of living. If they have a little extra and it is easy and safe to give, they do so." And later, "Lukewarm people are thankful for their luxuries and comforts, and rarely consider trying to give as much as possible to the poor."

I think of myself as a pretty generous person. Jeff and I give to many different charities, and when needs arise that we are made aware of, we are quick to write a check. And yet, what good did all that generosity do for this woman that dared to approach me while I was eating my lunch?

Here I am ready to go to Haiti and give in this very public and almost glamorous way. But when Jesus privately approached my table and asked, I sent Him away. Unfortunately it wasn't completely private. My daughter was watching.

Why did I hold on to that $10 as if I needed it? Better yet, why didn't I ask her if she was hungry and offer to buy her a $5 lunch buffet in the very place she was standing? The thought that I gave her 75 cents literally makes me sick to my stomach as I write. How utterly selfish.

I believe that God was testing me last week. I can choose to now beat myself up over failing the test, or I can see it as it was intended. I believe if I had thought all of this through before the lady walked up to my table, I would have given her the 10 bucks and bought her lunch. But because I hadn't made the decision to live a lifestyle of generosity, when the time came for a split decision I completely missed the boat. I think God was pointing something out to me that needs to change.

I'm praying now that every day He will give me an opportunity to give. I pray I have that chance today. This time I will be ready.

What about you?

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

Forget Hollywood... I'm Going to Haiti!

Over the past 48 hours, the Lord has completely rocked my world. A trip that was only on my radar peripherally a couple of days ago has suddenly become a reality in a very short time.

I will spare you the lengthy details, but the nutshell is that I am joining a team from our church that is partnering with Sweet Sleep and Global Orphan Project. We will be leaving three weeks from yesterday, heading to an orphan compound outside of Port-au-Prince. The orphanage housed 75 orphans before the earthquake and now has over 200. By the time we get there, that number could be as high as 500. The folks in charge of this compound are literally getting calls every day to come and pick up more kids. It is an overwhelming task.

Our team will spend four days with the orphans, doing whatever we are asked to do. Mostly we'll be entertaining them and attempting to minister to their sweet hearts that have been permanently altered by the events of the past several weeks. So any ideas for entertaining a big group of kids are definitely welcome!

There are many uncertainties about this trip, not the least of which is where we will actually be sleeping. Right now there's a good chance that will be outside. You may not know this about me, but I'm not much of a camper. I'm not a complete girly-girl, but the idea of sleeping among the things that might be creeping around the ground in Haiti at night is something I just have to compartmentalize if I'm going to be able to do it. But I keep telling myself, this is these kids' reality. If they can do it, then I better just suck it up and get over myself.

The way this has come about is so random that it can be none other than the hand of God. I believe I am supposed to be on this trip. I have no idea why, but I know I can trust Him. I feel like a rubber band that He has been steadily stretching a little tighter over the past few years. It seems like he's chosen now to pull me towards that next peg. I pray that I am up for the challenge.

I know that many of you have already given generously to Haiti. So please don't feel solicited. But I am attempting to raise a certain percentage of the funding for this trip. If you feel led to help, you can write a check to Brentwood Baptist Church and put "Haiti trip" and my name in the memo line. Mail the check to Brentwood Baptist Church, c/o Jamie Bennett, 7777 Concord Road, Brentwood, TN 37027. She will put it towards my costs. Thank you in advance for prayerfully considering if God wants you to be a part of this.

Most of all, I covet your prayers. This is a journey into unknown territory for me. It is way out of my comfort zone. I know the Enemy is already formulating schemes designed to distract me from the purpose at hand. I ask that you pray for protection over our team in every way: physical, emotional and spiritual. I have no doubt that what I am about to encounter is going to break my heart, and I promised Jeff that I wouldn't come home an emotional wreck this time. :)

Until then, let me astound you with my mad Creole skills:

Jezi rinmin ou. Babay!

(Jesus loves you. Good-bye!)