I recently found this blog through Katie in Uganda www.servinghischildreninuganda.blogspot.com. This girl, like Katie, also lives in Uganda. She helps to run a feeding program, but also uses her home as a center to care for and educate parents of children who are extremely malnourished or extremely sick. The children and sometimes the parents will stay with her while she helps to bring the children back to health at the same time educating the parents on how to properly care for their sick children. Nearly every post I've read from her has brought me to tears. There have been stories of 20 something year old girls who only weigh 36 pounds and have been abandoned by their families for a disability they have; the parents didn't want the responsibility to care for them any longer. It hurts to read those stories. But the most recent one I think has been the most difficult to read. A one month old little boy named Robert who suffers from an extremely rare genetic disorder called Epidermolysis Bullosa. It's a skin condition that causes the skin to be extremely sensitive to nearly EVERYTHING, the slightest movement or friction causes the skin to tear or rip right off of the body which leaves open wounds that generally will fill with fluid or blood and cause blisters all over the body. There are many different forms, sometimes it's mild and will only affect the soles of the feet or hands. In Robert's case, his whole body is affected. Through reading the post about Robert I started reading some of the comments people had posted, and one in particular caught my eye, it was a link to another blog about a little boy named Daylon from California that has the same condition, and his is extremely severe. I clicked on the blog link, and as soon as I saw the pictures I couldn't stop sobbing www.lovingbabydaylon.blogspot.com
I spent most of the day yesterday reading about this little boy and just the struggles he faces on a daily basis, and I couldn't stop crying. I hurt for how much pain he is in and I hurt for his parents knowing how much pain he was in, and there was nothing they could do and I was mad at God for allowing this little boy to have to go through this at just 13 months old. WHY?
I had called Scott earlier in the day crying for these two little boys and asking him what we could do to help. We know of an organization called Hands That Heal that helps to get medical visas for extremely sick children in third world countries to come to the US to receive medical care. I thought maybe we could refer Robert from Uganda for this program. But right now there is no cure for this condition. There are some clinical trials that are being done and Daylon is actually participating in one now at the University of Minnesota. He received a bone marrow transplant from his brother, and they hope this will help the body to heal itself, although he's had a pretty tough time over the last 80 days. You can read about his whole story through their blog.
When I got home last night I wanted to show Scott both of these blogs, and again as soon as I opened up Daylon's blog I was crying uncontrollably. I'm so sad for him. I look at his swollen face and in his eyes and I immediately feel so hurt for him. This has never happened before, I've read about young kids and babies that have leukemia or cancer and have to go through all sorts of treatments, and it's sad, but I usually don't think too much more after that. But this was completely different. I haven't been able to stop thinking about these two little boys. I asked Scott last night, through sobbing tears, "why does God do this, why would He let anyone hurt so much"? And he said, "because we live in a fallen world, but this isn't our final home and you have to know that whenever Daylon and Robert go to heaven that they won't be in pain anymore." And it is comforting to know that, that someday there will come a time when they won't hurt anymore. But selfishly, I don't want these little boys to go to heaven yet. I don't want their families to be sad if they're not here anymore. I want God to heal them and I know He can. Please God, these boys are completely under your care and I just pray that you miraculously heal them of this horrible disease.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Isaiah 65:24
I recently read this story on Renee's blog www.servinghischildreninuganda.blogspot.com and wanted to share.
This story was written by a doctor who worked in South Africa.
One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died, leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator).We also had no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies, and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in tropical climates). And ‘it is our last hot water bottle!' she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. 'All right,' I said, 'put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts Your job is to keep the baby warm.' The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died. During prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. 'Please, God' she prayed, 'Send us a hot water bottle today. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon. While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, 'And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?'As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say 'Amen?' I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything; the Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever, received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator! Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there on the verandah was a large 22-pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly-colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that would make a batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the.....could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out. Yes, a brand new, rubber hot water bottle. I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, 'If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!' Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully-dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked, 'Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her? 'Of course,' I replied! That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child – five months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it 'that afternoon.'
“Before they call, I will answer; while they are yet speaking I will hear.”
This story was written by a doctor who worked in South Africa.
One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died, leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator).We also had no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies, and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in tropical climates). And ‘it is our last hot water bottle!' she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. 'All right,' I said, 'put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts Your job is to keep the baby warm.' The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died. During prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. 'Please, God' she prayed, 'Send us a hot water bottle today. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon. While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, 'And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?'As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say 'Amen?' I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything; the Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever, received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator! Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there on the verandah was a large 22-pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly-colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that would make a batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the.....could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out. Yes, a brand new, rubber hot water bottle. I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, 'If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!' Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully-dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked, 'Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her? 'Of course,' I replied! That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child – five months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it 'that afternoon.'
“Before they call, I will answer; while they are yet speaking I will hear.”
Isaiah 65:24
Isn’t that AMAZING! Before we pray, He has already provided for that need/request/desire, before we even speak it. We may not see right away, it probably won’t come in our timing, but in HIS timing, in HIS timing all things are perfect. He knows. He knew before that baby was even born that she was going to need to stay warm: He provided. And did that 2 year old sister need a “Dolly”? No, but that’s just like our, God. To give us the unnecessary joys in life, the things that we don’t really need, that make us smile, laugh, and remember that, “God loves me”! He will grant me (and you) the desires of my heart; He knows what they are before even I. But first, we must have “childlike faith”, we must trust like, Ruth. She had no doubt that God was going to send that Dolly & water bottle (that very day). No second thought. She knew; she had confidence.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
For Sale
We recently went to this super cool bazaar when we were on vacation. It was sort of like an outdoor market that totally reminded me of the markets in Africa, except that everything at this one was EXTREMELY expensive! They had so many cute things though, just way over priced. So at that moment I decided that as soon as we got home I was going to try to make some of the things I saw at the bazaar and I would use all of the money I raised for our adoption. So this is what I've come up with so far. This is all new so I haven't set up any type of online payment. If you're interested just leave me a comment or email me at whitneysaucedo@gmail.com
Price: 1 pair for $4 or 3 pairs for $10
I'm also working on some cool tote bags, but they still need some work. I'll let you know when those are ready.
Hope you like the earrings!
Price: 1 pair for $4 or 3 pairs for $10
I'm also working on some cool tote bags, but they still need some work. I'll let you know when those are ready.
Hope you like the earrings!
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