This is an easy one......

I think part of my "writing" problem is being overwhelmed with the idea that I would have to think of something "new" every day.
It freaks me out.
This hour will be easy, not an easy topic mind you, just one I am familiar.


I really don't have a clue why I stopped to talk to her, but I am aware I broke some rules.
Unspoken ones of course.
It wasn't until I lived in Haiti that I came to really pay attention to those who are homeless.
I don't know that I thought Haiti had any homeless people.
When I was visiting, I was so overwhelmed and everyone seemed poor and homeless as far as I was concerned.
If I had my way, I was going to take every single kid out of that God forsaken country for one big do over.
(For this, and many other ways of thinking, I would find myself having to repent.)
Who knew working people on the streets tended to dress in nothing more than rags.

It took me awhile to really learn the rhythm and flow of the streets.
It has a language all it's own.
There are layers and layers.
There is a wrong way and a right way.
Some are easy, others will NEVER make sense.
The common denominator seems to be survival, survival comes in many different packages.
It seems to me the only way you can really hear is to say anything.

Not everyone dresses in rags.
As a matter a fact, if not working, most people take great pride in their clothes and in looking nice, wearing perfectly pressed, and sometimes, dry cleaned clothing.
In a world where you can't control anything, it makes perfect sense to me.

As for mental illness, there just isn't a place for such a thing.
So, when in fact, you really do see it, it tends to be really sad.
There is no question that mental illness played a powerful role in the choices made, or not made, by the Deli Mart Lady.
Medication, another language.
AIDS and mental illness have their own scarlet letter.
No words needed.
These are things the world can't fix with a band-aid.

There is another another unspoken language on the streets of Haiti.
Everyone knows everyone, yet no one knows anything.
No one sees "them", but everyone knows what "they" are doing or where "they" are.
This is the rule I broke.
I stopped and talked to her.
Looking back, it seems to me that everyone was taking care of her, but no one was.
She was homeless woman who had hundreds of children to keep an eye on her everyday.
God is funny that way.
She was considered "forbidden and unclean" but she was theirs.
I crossed the line, I was feeding her and talking to her in the middle of the day and I was taking her picture.
I am sure it was the later that was the real problem.
It was the picture.
The shame.
For this I am sorry, I meant no harm.

As I scanned the "Live Feed" on Facebook to see what was up.
I got to Beth's status update....
The homeless lady who camped out in front of our gate died. Makes me incredibly sad - like she was part of our Haiti family. We would often hear her singing hymns in Creole - she refused shelter but took food. She liked Sheila and liked Jesus - that's a win, win!

I was sick.
Honestly, I couldn't move.
My heart was sick.
I loved her!
Why? I am not sure why?
I had so many questions.
I wished I could pick up the phone to call Beth.
Think, what was her number?

Soon after we left Haiti the Deli Mart Lady moved to John and Beth's gate.
Beth said, it was my fault, but I think she knew Beth would be kind to her.
I loved seeing the little updates from Beth every once and awhile.
I asked her to give her cookies for me.

I would be lying if I didn't tell you that I wanted to fix her and make her come to sewing school and stop all this nonsense.
Stop collecting bags of stuff carrying them back and forth, even tying them to her small frame unable to stand with the weight.
Stop sitting in piles of trash.
She needed to take a bath.
Yet, I often noticed someone had cared enough to do her hair, sometimes she was beautiful.
She was cooking with tiny bits of charcoal next to the car catcher full of trash.
I worried that she would be sick or sicker.
I wanted her to sleep in clean white sheets, sit at a table with flowers and be loved by a family.

I learned an unspoken language from her.
I pray she learned something from me, maybe she thought I was the crazy one!

Just Give Yourself One Hour A Day

I have lost track of the number of times different people have said, "you should write a book".
I am not really sure I have that much to say.
Yet, I admit, it is one of those things I keep tucked away in the back of my mind.
At this point, it is just like going on a diet... someday I am gonna do it.
Really I am! I tell myself every few days, I am gonna do it!

I remember taking a writing class in summer school when I was in junior high.
I was really intimidated, terrified actually.
Some how I found myself sitting in a classroom at the worst public high school in north Minneapolis.
I still wonder how I got there?
My mother must have threatened me.
My brother and I had been going to Forth Baptist Christian school after my parents took us out of public school when I was in fifth grade. That was the same year I told her my brain was full and I couldn't learn any more math.
She didn't budge on the homework deal even when I laid on the dining room floor and cried.
This was also around the time that all well informed Christians started breaking their records into little pieces or better yet burning them because of the subliminal messages the rock bands put in their music.
In one afternoon, Chicago, Elton John, Neil Diamond, Carole King - gone, just like that.

I vaguely remember walking down the hallway, I was in culture shock.
Even then I was different.
I remember because the teacher wrote a note to my mom telling her I was.
He said something about "refreshing".
I just figured it was because I wasn't pregnant and didn't swear.
I was just happy to be done with summer school.

I have been thinking about the words of my oldest child, Aaron.
He had been following me around the house as I put a few things away while getting ready for Christmas Eve dinner.
He was an early Christmas present that I picked up at the airport.
I love the kind of presents you can't wrap!

He is twenty seven, graduated from college with a degree in theater, living in Austin to pursue his dream of being an actor.
I tease him that he is really following Sandra Bullock around because he had a crush on her when he was younger.
That was after he had a crush on Cindi Lauper.
He isn't' talking about crushes anymore, although he did mention this girl that he dates off and on that he described as strange.
This isn't really a great thing to say, I tell him.
The first time you bring a girl here for us to meet we are all going to be wondering if she is the "strange one".
When we see each other we talk about our favorite books, movies and our passions.
He talked about the new screen play he had finished and just happened to mention he was moving to LA as part of the next step in becoming an actor.
This prompted him to show me his new black journal with his perfect hand writing.
So, I showed him my twenty-five cent spiral bound note book I got in the clearance section of school supplies last summer.
It is crammed full of random papers, e-mails, dreams and colored pictures from Parker, all stapled in so I wouldn't keep dropping them.
I admitted I have always really wanted one of those leather journals with the ties that go around it, I also admit that I didn't really think I would ever use it.
They are way too nice.

Next he said the thing I have been thinking about - you should give yourself one hour a day.

It sounds easy enough - right.
Out of the clear blue this thought comes to me about cows having four stomachs.
They chew on something over and over again.
Americans tend to be the fast food, get 'er done type.
For me, for now, I am thinking about writing one hour a day, and the dreaded diet idea...over and over again.

I sat down this morning, still chewing, with my cup of coffee to start writing for an hour, I am torn.
I could be reading, I would much rather be reading.
I love the book I am reading and I never seem to have enough time to read.

The hour has gone much faster than I expected.
Maybe Aaron was right - I should give myself one hour a day.
By continuing my blog I won't be messing up a really nice journal or dropping any pages.

We'll see.......I am still chewing on it.

"Twas The Night Before Christmas - Haiti Version

"Twas the night before Christmas and throughout Haiti not a child had been fed.
No stocking where hung by the chimney with care,
For all hope was gone that anyone would share.

The children where nestled in what they call beds.
While visions of what should have been danced in their heads.

And I in my flannels, all settled in bed, had just settled in for a long winter's nap.
When I remembered the children I had held in my arms and that sat in my lap.

My mind soon filled with such a clatter.
I sprang from my bed to see if I could bring some change to this matter.
Away to my bible I flew like a flash, tore open the pages as I tried not to crash.

Their beautiful faces began to fill my mind like glistening snow,
As tears fell from my eyes, I said, "Lord, I just need to know".
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
My Saviour who I knew was always near.

More rapid than eagles on His horse He had come,
He whistled and shouted.
He called the children by name:
Sara Jean, Desmel, Jean Kelley, Desire and Jennie,
To you I promise a new life full of grace.
Now dash away, dash away, all hope that has been lost without a trace.

All the images that cluttered my mind where shattered.
He took them as He mounted His horse that was not a bit tattered.
Up to the Lamb's Book of Life He flew to return with a promise
That their hearts would be new.

And then in the twinkling of an eye,
I felt my heart prancing and pawing, it gave me such a start.
For Jesus had given each of these a new heart!

He was dressed all in white from His head to His feet.
Their burdens and woes He had flung on His back.
He looked like a peddler closing His pack.

His eyes how they twinkled!
His dimples, how Merry!
His cheeks were like roses, His lips the color of cherry.

The beard on His chin was as white as snow,
The mouth on His broad face was drawn up like a bow,
While His father's glory encircled His head like a wreath.
The earth shook as He spoke, when He laughed they rejoiced, for love was made new.

He was righteous and just.
I knew it was true, and I laughed when I saw Him in spite of myself.
A wink of His eye and a nod of His head soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word.
But went straight to His work filling their spirits with gifts He had given.
In the twinkling of an eye, He turned, laying His hand across His heart, gave a nod up to heaven.

He sprang to His horse.
To His team gave a whistle and way they flew like the down of a thistle.

I heard Him exclaim, ere He rode out of sight...
"It is not my will, that even one should perish"

In memory of Edmond - Age 3
Haiti 2000

Season's

There are songs and even scriptures that talk about the different seasons in our lives. We have our favorite season of the year; even now we celebrate the Christmas Season. Many seasons come and go, leaving us to wonder where did the time go? Yet other seasons bring new life and great joy, while others can be painful and/or life changing.

For God’s Plumbline and the Lynch Family we too are in a new season.

Shortly before we left Haiti for our summer break I had a dream about our ministry name. In the dream my boss questioned me about our name asking why we didn’t use “God’s Plumbline Global Ministries”? I was busy and wondered why she would ask such a nit picky question, couldn’t she see I was busy? Besides, everyone knows we are called to go to the Nations was my thought as I continued with the task at hand. Little did we know just what this dream would mean…

This has been a season of seeking God, asking many questions, learning to trust more deeply, re-grouping as a family and building. Building a stronger support base, spending time with our board members, putting on paper all we have learned over the last two years in Haiti and working out the details of what does it mean to be “GLOBAL”.

What about Haiti? We will continue to do short term trips, support and encourage the women and the work that we planted for …..a season. Our goal was to go and plant a work that would be self- sustaining. We are thrilled to see the work we did in Haiti continue to flourish.

We believe that the work we did in Haiti was only – Phase I. We are now working on the next phase of the vision God has given us to go to the NATIONS. Since we have been back we have been asked about working in both Kenya and Cape Town, South Africa. We look forward to sharing the next season of our ministry with each of you and pray that you will continue to pray for us and the people of Haiti.

We feel honored to do this work and look forward to the possibility of traveling to
Africa next year to seek out the next season…

May this SEASON be filled with the desires of your heart!

Happy Thanksgiving!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
WE HAVE MUCH TO BE THANKFUL FOR IN OUR LIVES!
THANK YOU FOR BEING PART OF OUR LIVES!

Social Media Revolution

Some days I would just like to be able to not think about things in such strange ways.
I would like to tell my brain, "hey, knock it off! Be "normal" for God sakes!
In our effort to try and be "normal", Dan and I recently went to a Kingdom Business meeting in South Carolina.
The goal - networking.
You move from conference room to conference room listening to new ways to work with in the Christian community.
It sounded like a good way to get our feet wet.
Truthfully, my head was spinning!
As we sat in one of our "break out sessions", this one on "The Social Media Revolution" learning about Twitter, Facebook and blogging, all to stay in-touch with this fast paced life, my mind wondered off down the ever present road of the life of women in Haiti and people who live in a third world.

I wanted to stand up and say, I have one for you...I bet you never thought about the fact that women in third world countries have to sell their cell phones so that they have enough money for the midwife to come and cut the umbilical cord after they have just delivered a baby all alone in a 8 x 8 cinder block house with a corrugated tin roof that they share with eight other people.
How's that for Networking!
My foot was swing back and forth, my frustration was showing!
On que, the camera man motioned with exaggerated hand gestures 1....2....3....
The audience began clapping as prompted, this session was being taped.
It was good I behaved and not caused a scene like the one in my head of me standing up, raising my hand, wanting to know when the church forget about the fact that most of the world can't and won't Twitter, because they are too busy trying not to die from malaria or starvation.
Maybe they missed the Power Point at the local church on that one!
Is America not able to have church without a Power Point?
Just asking......

Forgive me! I remember now why I don't want to be "normal".

I will trying to remember the words of Tara......

Not everyone eats, sleeps and breaths this stuff!!

Parker's Birthday!!

Happy Birthday Parker Hughes Lynch
Ten Years Old!

I remember laying in the operating room hearing a nurse say "10/4".....
I was thinking "10/4 Good Buddy" never thinking in a million years this was the weight of the baby boy that I just delivered via c-section.
Soon the nurse came to me and confirmed he in fact did weigh 10 lbs 4 oz.
Never did I dream I would have a ten pound baby!
We spent Thanksgiving in the hospital that year.
We call him our "Thanksgiving" baby for many reasons, not just for the date of his birth.
He has blessed our family in many ways, for this we are thankful!