The Mr.'s Blog

Celine

2010-12-06T14:45:00.000-08:00

It is with great heaviness in my soul that I write this. This year is the last this beautiful little girl Celine will be on the Angel Tree. Take two seconds to look at her face. Memorise it.

She is now too old to stay until next year and will be transferred out of the orphanage she is in. This Angel Tree is her last hope of escape. I use the word escape in the profoundest sense. She will literally be escaping TO life from death, to hope from hopelessness, to a free future from a life in a blind alley. Going nowhere fast. She does not realise the horrors that lie in store for her. YOU do. We, the informed, those with the knowledge, the ones who see where others have gone, we know. It is not a future to envy, that of the institutionalised orphan. Neglected, abused, maltreated, malnourished and the rest. Most of the children who are institutionalised, die within the first year of arriving within the institution, 80% I believe. This is what lies in store.

Now look at her face again.

Is there a prompt? anything? Please look into yourself and just ask 'what can I do? can I adopt this little girl? am I able, with the help of God? Can I only give money? can I go to sleep tonight and forget this?' you can do something right now, right this second, you can either commit to adopt her or if you can't, you can donate some money. In fact why not donate the amount you might spend on coffee or candy or whatever commodity you might indulge in for just the next week? It isn't a lot I'm sure.

Please remember her this Christmas. Give the gift of life.

Good One

2010-02-01T15:54:00.001-08:00

Sovereign God - Derek Loux

2010-01-25T14:25:00.000-08:00

Possibly My Favourite Song

2009-12-20T15:25:00.000-08:00

I love this song. I grew up listening to this music. As a former worship leader I have to say I think this guy was the cream of the crop, no-one comes close at all. At least not since he died. There are those who can sing, play their guitars or whatever wonderfully, but for me they have all lacked the sincerity and heart on sleeve approach Keith Green had. We lost a much needed light when he went to glory.

"I’ll get my friend BA on you."

2009-11-27T02:59:00.000-08:00

At six and a half I was sort of a clumsy kid. My feet turned inward to the point that with all the trips and falls causing black eyes and general bruising, grazes and cuts, people who never knew me would look at me in the street as if I were a beaten child. It nearly killed me once on the way to school when I tripped into the driveway of a lady who was pulling out at the time. She would have run over me had there not been a passenger with her who had seen me. She was traumatised by the event and still shudders when she sees me decades later. Added to that I couldn’t read or write either due to being told I was dyslexic and had to attend ‘special’ classes within this mainstream school. That label did NOT help.

So I guess I was teased a bit at school in early years, not much, but enough to feel somewhat of an outsider. I had three friends, one was covered head to toe in eczema with a perma-snot nose, and I spent most of my time quarrelling or fighting with other kids who laughed at him even if he was absent. My other two friends weren’t much help, one would put his arms around me in the middle of the class at inopportune moments and loudly proclaim with a big smile “WE’RE BROTHERS IN CHRIST, AREN’T WE?” With a sheepish smile I would smuggle a “yes” out camouflaged by a cough. The other friend I had was so effeminate he just stopped short of dressing in pink and carrying a Barbie to school. He threw like a girl, ran like a girl, kicked a ball like a girl, looked like a girl, drew and wrote like a girl and so was not exactly the person you’d want with you as the first line of defence against the gangs of bullies who would strut around looking for kids to pick on which usually ended in a fight with me.

This meant my friends and I would often go out of our way to befriend the different, weaker, or new kids. I guess there is safety in numbers. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t spend years scrapping with the other kids in the playground, it just wasn’t that far away most days. I wasn’t some sort of Robin Hood character either, helping the underdog and fighting the villains, but the primary school experience definitely gave me an empathetic leaning toward those who were somewhat outsiders.

I suppose this should have meant I would make friends with Daniel. I heard about him through my older brother by three years who told me about him because he was the new boy in his year. By the time I met him my brother and a few friends had already made him the butt of a chant they had thought up, going throughout the playground singing it. I saw him a few times and wanted to speak to him because I felt sorry for him and knew he was picked on, I knew they were making his life a misery. For whatever reason though, I never did. It may have been the thought of knowing I would get teased and beaten for it by kids three years older than me including my brother, I don’t know.

So one day when I saw Daniel in the toilets after school I did something that still bothers me nearly thirty years on. While standing, washing my hands at the sink I put my thumb on the tap (faucet for you Americans) and sprayed him with water. I had been told he wasn’t tough and wouldn’t fight back. He looked at me with a quizzical ‘was that an accident?’ eye and when I did it again he thumped me on the arm and said “I’ll get my friend BA (Mr. T) on you!” he was well known and laughed at for saying that many times over. I guess by this point he had been picked on so much he had learned to fight back, silly me.

I can’t say I was scared by Daniel’s threat or even the ‘dead’ arm he had rightly given me. It was what I had done. I, for one brief moment, had become one of ‘them’. The people who had made mine and my friends lives difficult. So without saying anything I ran out feeling very ashamed of my self.

Years later, just a few months ago in fact, I had my brother and his young kids over to play with our little Poppet. While out in the back garden climbing trees and larking about, just myself and the boys, one of them told me a funny chant their dad (my brother) would sing whenever they see a neighbour's boy with special needs who lives near them. It’s a play on his name I gather, slurring his name repeatedly to a well-known tune, but he’s not doing any playing.

So with a broken heart but a brave face I told them why this was wrong without telling them off or insulting my brother (though I wish I could have) and went back inside very upset. It brought back so many childhood memories and emotions, what were they thinking when they were playing with my daughter? Had I imagined the sideways glances and smirks?

I couldn’t sleep thinking about this the other night, I was going from angry with my brother to very hurt by him and back again. I have been stuck on angry since. How could he encourage his boys to mock a child, a precious child with additional needs?

We have other children with additional needs in the family, one with cerebral palsy and another with Down’s syndrome.

Then I made a connection. Something clicked in my mind when I thought of Daniel. I had been puzzling over what it was about Daniel that he was picked on for. Was it the angelic freckles that made him seem easier to pick on? Was it the lovely strawberry blonde hair, or bright, sparkly, blue eyes? Because quite honestly, he was the best-looking kid in the school as far as I remember.

Oh wait a minute. And there it is! Was it the almond shaped eyes or Brushfield spots?
Daniel have I realised years later, had Down’s syndrome.

To say I had mixed emotions on that eureka moment is an understatement. I could have been his friend and looked out for him, instead the one time I slipped up it was on a person who had the most precious and life changing gift a person can have. Pure agape love, vulnerability; the mark of God. My heart was very heavy and burdened by this.

After the incident at school I remember seeing his mother a few weeks later at the end of term coming to collect him, she looked drawn and somewhat defeated. He never came back after the holidays. Oh regret. Some people say you must live life with no regrets. But aren’t regrets what make us better as people? Knowing there was something we did that we are ashamed of that we can not-do next time? What about putting these things behind us? Well yes, leaving our spiritual guilt behind us is necessary because as Christians we must in order to accept Christ’s forgiveness. We must not live under the oppression of past guilt. But sometimes, regrets are ok, they are born out of the mistakes that teach you, that feeling is what often keeps you in check and turns up the volume on the voice of your conscience. The picture of the person who lives life without regretting anything is not to me, that of a happy go lucky, upbeat optimist. Rather, a selfish and callous person who does not care for others feelings and would do the same thing again and again and again irrespective of the effect on others around them.

When I remember his mothers face I determine that I will not tell my child to say something like “I’ll get my friend BA on you”. That only gets kids picked on more. No, I will go down and sort it out myself, with the other parents directly if I have to. I’m not saying his mum did the wrong thing, it was just London. People here can be pretty merciless. She probably didn’t want her angel to fight, she probably sat up for hours the first time he came home from school and had said some of the kids were mean. And with this in mind she probably told him to say that and scare the other kids.

I know it might sound strange but I have always remembered that, always regretted myself. Never told anyone until now. I was the person who should have been his defender, I was for looking out for stronger kids than him, why not look out for him?

Sometimes I wish he would have got his friend BA on me. I would have learned an important life lesson much sooner. I think I'll get him on my brother... yes, that's what I'll do.

Christmas Warrior - Serge

2009-11-01T09:21:00.000-08:00

In anticipation of the Christmas Angel Tree, we signed up to be prayer warriors for two precious Angels awaiting their forever family. I am going to share with you about the little boy for whom I have decided to pray.

I was shown a list of names and asked to pick one and his name seemed to stand out. Then I went to the Reece's Rainbow web site to put a face to the name and find out about him and any specific needs he may have. I am so pleased I did that, I have looked at the Reece’s Rainbow web site before and been so moved by the little faces on there.

This time with a connection it just made it all so much more real. The children there are all very special. They deserve the love of a family just as much as you and me and yet they sit waiting in an orphanage for a family to come for them.

Each day, as part of our daily prayers, we pray for the children we have spiritually adopted as their prayer warriors. In fact, we've decided we'd pray for them all and spiritually adopt all of the children on the Reece's Rainbow site.

So, here is Serge, perhaps yours is the family he is awaiting to come for him? If you are able to visit Reece's Rainbow, there are so many faces of the children who need your prayers, not just this Christmas but throughout the year.

Thank you for reading about little Serge.

Serge (41)

Boy, Born October 12, 2007

Serge is another little chunky muffin :) He has sandy brown hair and big brown eyes. He does have some strabismus, and an umbilical hernia, but no heart condition. He is doing great and will really do well in his new family!

From one of our adoptive families who visited with him in July 2009: "Serge was bewildered by me...his little tongue sticking out of his mouth the way my Eli's does :) I don't think these children get talked to in a tender tone very much, if at all. Serge looked at me like a little puppy does when their trying to understand what your saying....you know, that head cocked to the side and ears perked up look? That's how Serge looked at me :) Because he was sitting behind Angel he would lean in to my hand when ever I cupped his face. He didn't smile at me, but liked being talked too and touched. He kept putting his hand on mine when I stroked his cheek and he moved his feet for me to get me to stroke them again whenever I stopped touching them. He had no shoes on so I was able to massage his little feet & legs tenderly and he liked it :) All these children need is attention, affection and some eager arms. Once they have these things, these babies will grow in every way! Here, their looked at as "dumb"....not even worthy of touch or tender words. It explains a lot about our Isaac's own behaviors. What's amazing is how little time it's taken for Isaac to learn to accept and even desire our affection & attention. My heart hurts for these beautiful babies. "

Contact Andrea directly for more information