Karla

I want to start something new on this blog. While I’m sure you all love to hear about my life and my struggles and the ins and outs of my daily life, I feel like you might also be interested in my kids. You are, after all, reading the blog of a full-time missionary/surrogate mommy. I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about my kids everyone once in a while. So I’m going to take the time to talk about my girls one by one, one a month, and hopefully you’ll get to know them a little better, too.

Karla is a hard little girl to pin down. She was brought to Esperanza Viva in September 2011 along with two of her brothers. I don't know the full story concerning the circumstances for which they were brought to us, but from what I do know and what Karla has told me, the children were grossly neglected. Upon arriving at Esperanza Viva, all three children had their heads shaved because of the filth that was caked in their hair, not to mention the lice.

Since coming here, Karla blossomed into a loving, serious and slightly mischievous young girl. The reason she’s on my mind, I think, is because she’s about to celebrate her tenth birthday, and this past week she was telling me that she was sad she wouldn’t be able to see her family. Since coming to Esperanza Viva, Karla’s aunt and uncle have visited her twice. Her immediate family has never come. And for Karla, family is everything.

The most important thing you need to know about Karla is that she would die for her brothers. They are the most important people in her life, and she would gladly give up everything that she had for them. Like normal little boys, they take advantage of this, and constantly hound Karla for candies and treats, but it doesn’t even faze her. She would rather give her candy to her brothers than eat it herself-pretty amazing, for an almost 10-year-old.

Although Karla loves to laugh and play, she has a serious side that sometimes comes out. She doesn’t like to be alone, ever. She’s almost afraid to be alone. I don’t know why she feels this way; all I know is that if she is by herself, it’s never on purpose. Karla needs and seeks the company of others at all times.

What I find most amazing about Karla is even though she has been hurt, it doesn’t stop her from pouring love into others. In her shy, affectionate way, Karla loves everyone she comes into contact with. She is a child who has every reason to shy away from people, coming from a past where the people who should have loved her chose to hurt her. But instead of avoiding people, she seeks them out. She is a friend to everyone, from teens to little children to the various groups that come down. Everyone knows and loves Karla. And while I wonder at the kind of people who could have mistreated this clever little girl with bright eyes and a big smile, I can’t help but thank God that she is with us today.

Karla will have the chance to be loved here, something she never had at her house. She will be cherished, maybe even a little spoiled. She will have a good education and, most importantly, she will grow up in the knowledge that there is a God who loves her more than she can imagine. Although the circumstances that Karla and her brothers came to us out of were awful, God has given these children something they never had before: a future. And right now, I get to be a part of that.

For more information about sponsoring Alisha Tomsen please email alisha.tomsen@gmail.com.

On Saying Goodbye

One of the things that get put into perspective very clearly when you’re working in missions is how very transient life is. Things change, we all know that. There’s even a saying I know-the only thing certain is change. And yet, it always seems to sneak up on you, like Christmas, or a cop at a speed trap.

Missions work, I feel, is an area of work that is a bit more transient than others. Obviously, to be a missionary you’re open to going where God leads you, because you’ve already followed Him to Tibuktu (or wherever) and are currently living in various states of discomfort (such as in a mud hut or without decent coffee, both difficult situations to survive) to do His will. So these crazy people, who have already followed God to some unlikely destination, are therefore more likely to follow Him again, or to go back home at any given time. And then you (as the person who is being left behind) have to say goodbye.

And really, this is worse than saying goodbye usually is, because of the aforementioned leaving of your homeland to live in a mud hut/without decent coffee. Because  if you’re a missionary, unless you’re awesomely lucky like my friend Keti is, you probably don’t have any family anywhere near you. For like, thousands of miles. And while the internet is helpful for bridging that distance gap, it’s still not the same as having people you love surrounding you. So the people around you become your family, and sometimes you form alarmingly close relationships with people just because you happen to speak the same language and it’s nice not to have to conjugate before you talk. Then, when they leave you, it’s like having your blankets snatched off of you, waking you up out of a dead sleep-that same feeling of cold, panicked insecurity.

Tonight, one of my good friends is leaving Esperanza Viva, and starting the next chapter of her life. She’s not the first person to be going while I was here, nor will she be the last, but she is the first person to leave who really mattered to me (sorry, anyone else). And while I’m excited for her, and happy that she’s taking this chance, and praying for her, I can’t shake the blanket-snatched feeling because she’s another little piece of home that I won’t have any more.

Since I strive to be honest with you 6 people who read this blog, I’ll tell you the truth: I wish she weren’t going. I wish she could just stay indefinitely, ignoring her own needs and wants because I’m comfortable with her, and I’ll miss her. Frankly, sometimes I feel like I’ve already given up enough: my home, the majority of my friends, the wonderful comforts of my country (such as but not limited to Target, Trader Joe’s and Dairy Queen), a steady paycheck (really, a paycheck at all) and now one of the few friends I have is leaving? How can this happen? Why is this happening? How will I survive?!

(If anyone is getting confused, just remember, it’s all about me. That’s the main theme of this blog, I think, is my erroneous attitude that it’s always all about me)

It’s easy to have a pity party, just as easy as it is to pretend that her leaving doesn’t really affect me. What’s hard is taking a good look at everything I’m feeling and realizing that God is really in control. He gave me a great friend to help me get acclimated around here, to encourage me to speak up and to occasionally do my hair (which is difficult with dreads, let me tell you). He also gave me the chance to work in her life, as well. And now she’s starting a new chapter in her life, and it’s time to say goodbye. It’s hard, and I’m struggling with some emotions (foreign concept for me) but knowing that God has a habit of putting people in and taking people out of your life for His own good reasons helps me a lot.

So while I’m struggling to learn that it’s really not all about me, I’ll just thank God for the friends I have and only say goodbye when I need to. Due to the transient nature of missionary work and my life, I’m sure there’s bound to be more people I’m going to say hello to before I have to say goodbye again.

(If that last sentence made no sense at all I’m sorry-by product of being a crazy person. If you think about it long enough, the insanity starts to make sense.)