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Showing posts from 2015

An orphanage

He was about 35 years old. His 3 year old and 5 year old with him. His voice cracked as he held in the tears and asked me to take his children. He showed me old, worn pictures of his boys, his wife, his wedding ceremony, the identification cards. He came from another city. 2 hours away. I saw his pain. I saw his sunken eyes. He was ashamed, embarrassed, tired. He had done everything he could do to care for his children, but it still wasn't enough. So his last resort was an orphanage. Most families I meet want their children, but can not simply provide for their basic needs. I thought about this dad. So embarrassed to have to ask for help from a young girl. So ashamed that he could give his boys a better life. I think of his wife. Where was she? Probably at home. Grieving. Wondering if she will ever see her boys again. Knowing this is the best solution for her children. Believing that she made the right choice for their sake. She didn't come with them on the journey to my h

Varlensly and Nelson

Varlesnly was 6 months old when she went into the arms of Jesus. I met her in June. She was a beautiful little girl, bright brown eyes, chubby cheeks, a piece of joy to all. There were some problems though. Her mom was young and uneducated. Everyone in the village begged for me to take the child. Everyone but the mom. For though it seemed like she didnt want her baby, I could see deep down in her eyes that there was a little love, a little hope. Everyday for two months I would go visit the family. The ministry provided formula and we constantly reminded the mom that Varlensly was a child of the King, made in His image, and worth more than gold. Things started looking up. I then took a 4 week long trip to the States to fundraise. When I returned, I received the news. "Varlensly te mouri. Li mouri Ellen, wi li vre." No I said. No no no. I just knew I wasn't understanding. I knew I misinterpreted the words I heard. "Varlensly died. He's dead Ellen. Yes it is true.

All in hope

" If missionary life is so hard, why do they do it?" Because we once met a man named Jesus. No matter how hard we thought Our lives were, We knew His was harder. But He full heartedly gave His all and served. Served knowing he might not get anything in return. "For God so loved the world that He gave.." John 3:16 He gave his all. His Son. He allowed beatings, torture, insults, persecution, even death to happen. In hopes, with great anticipation, that the sacrifice He made would change hearts throughout the world. In hopes that all His children would run back into His arms. He gave it all and it wasn't fair, but he did it anyway. And we don't owe God a thing. The gift of salvation is free to all those who believe. And after tasting such sweetness. After seeing such goodness come from the Lord. After receiving the free gift of eternal life. There's no other way we would want to live. We as missionaries desperately want homes for the orphans. We eag

The voodoo man

Working in devil's territory is hard. Being a sheep in a pack of wolves is harder. But Jesus said it is worth it. My next door neighbor just turned to voodoo. I live in the middle of two villages, so he is my only neighbor. His house and my house. Side by side in the middle of banana fields. I have bible verses written on my wall, he has black flags on his. I have the beautiful sound of a keyboard, he has drums. I guess God got tired of me complaining about the 4a.m. Wake up call given by the lovely roosters, because now it's a little bell that "calls the spirits." There is no snooze button. For he rings it for hours everyday. He is dedicated. Very dedicated and it has convicted me. Because some days, sadly, I push God to the back burner. Some days "I'm too busy." And when that happens my prayer life sinks, my spiritual growth slows down, and my attitude slips up. For months now I thought I needed a friend. Someone to encourage me, someone to hol

This is not home

Beautifully written and well explained by a missionary to Thailand named Karl Dahlfred When a new missionary first gets to the mission field, it is obvious where home is. It is that place where you just left. It is the place where you grew up, went to school, got an education, discovered a church family, and formed your most important relationships. But when you live overseas long enough, a strange transition takes place. Your “home” country doesn’t quite feel like home anymore. When you “go home”, some of the same people and places are there, but life has moved on in your absence. When you show up for the so-called “home assignment” or “furlough,” you can not just pick up where you left off. You are a visitor. An outsider. A guest without a permanent role. Your close friends have made new close friends. Half the people in your home church only know you as a line item on a list of prayer requests. Some new technology, slang, or cultural trend has become common place…

Rahab

Rahab A woman with a past to whom God gave a future Joshua 2-5 A prostitute, a harlot bound by the life chosen for her. Everyone in her pagen city knew about her occupation, but none knew about her heart. She'd look out the windows from the gates of Jericho and ponder about the God of Moses. She had heard the stories, heard of the power. Parting the Red Sea, manna from heaven, water from rocks. She thought to herself, what good would stone idols do against a God that controlled wind fire and sea? She lived amongst her people, but did not think like they did. 2 spies were sent to check out the city and fell into the path of Rahab. "Because the Lord knows His people wherever they are, even when they're locked inside a pagan city" From her faith, her heart, her boldness, the walls fell, she was free, and the promised Messiah would come through her family. At times it might seem we are living in the walls of Jericho. Not feeling worthy, no

The days of Jesus

Beyond blessed that La Limye's board of directors and leadership team was able to come to Haiti in June. Here is one of the experiences that was felt. To all, Thank you all for traveling to Haiti to visit La Limye Ministries this past week and working to make the children's home a little closer to being finished. I personally feel blessed by everyone on the trip and am so happy about the new bonds of close friendship I feel for each of you. On the bus while passing some houses on a hill side Cathy made the comment that Haiti looks a lot like how she envisions Israel looked at the time of Jesus. Not just the landscape of mountains and ocean but the way the people lived then and now. I believe her perceptions are correct. In the time of Jesus people lived in stone houses, got their daily water from a well or pool and put it in jars they carried on their head. In Jesus' time was no air conditioning or refrigeration, most people had to walk everywhere, there was no

It's the little things in life

The days in Haiti that I love. That I'll never forget. The days when 10 people come to church in earnest rather than 100 that come to play. The days when we sing and dance for Jesus and no one thinks we're crazy. The days the girls braid my hair and ask me 50 times if it hurts When I sit next to an open fire in 100 degree weather cooking with Mary. Talking about life and love, orphans and poverty. She teaches me how to cook Haitian food and helps me with my creole Language. The days I sit with malange and think up baby names for her son that's coming in October. When Edverline tells me that Jesus loves everyone and ask why. The hours I hold Smeralda knowing that her small frail body is uncared for by her mom. And all I can do is hold her tight. When the neighbors come to give me gifts of flowers and plants. I love the days when Valerie come over and we play with baby dolls and watch Veggietales. I love house visits. I'll walk through the visit and sit on

He is able

It's like a miracle if you ask me. How can one change in an instant? How can one switch lives in a day? I go from being high-maintenance, OCD, insecure to sleeping with the rats, coaked in dust and sweat, and living off of protein bars. Shower pressure ----- drip drops Bed with a/c ------- floor with wind Cereal with milk ----- cereal with water Flushing the toilet every time ---- every 5th time Washing machine ----ditch water Trains ----- roosters Owning the road ---- holding on for dear life I arrived back in Haiti in June after a series of delays. Weather, Maintnence, luggage, lost crew. I knew that was the enemy trying to stress me, or maybe God trying to prepare me. Either way, I complained about the problems all day. Then I arrived. Back to reality. Poverty. Everywhere. 7year olds carrying their weight on their head in buckets of water, naked babies with swollen bellies playing in the dirt, Tin shacks lining

Returning to Haiti

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I am flying back to Haiti today from a visit to the States. This trip back will consist of moving into the orphanage from my rented house. For the first time in two years I will have a fridge and a stove! We are beyond thankful for everyone who has made this ministry blossom. Please be praying for this transition and for the girls who will be arriving sooner than later! God is so good and may His will be done!

A Holy Experience by Ann Voskamp

And there’s no holding this tattered roar back. I’m angry at sin that smothers children and selfishness that steals human dignity and apathy that infects the hearts of the comfortable.   And I pound my own chest. I’m angry at me. Angry at how much I want comfortable more than I want Christ. Angry at how much I want to forget that grimy boy leaned over a garbage heap, wiping his fingers along the inside of food tray, looking for anything left.  I’m wildly angry that I want to forget the struggle of the poor so I can pin the next pretty idea on Pinterest. I’m angry that I’ve seen and  I’m ashamed that I am angry  and I’m angry that  I’ve seen and now I am responsible . More than respons-able –  we’re response-bound.  Once we have seen the poor, we are responsible — we  will  make a response. As long as your heart is beating, there’s no such thing as unresponsive. We all look into the face of the poor and it’s either Yes, I will help. Or no, I won’t. There’s no getting off the

A normal day

Many people have asked since I haven't taken in orphans yet, what does a normal day look like for me. "Normal days" occur in my dreams quite often. I dream of shopping with my sisters. Going to work and making enough to always pay the bills. I dream of wearing jeans and my hair down. I dream of Target and sweet tea and the radio. I dream, and then I wake up. You see, where I live, there is none of that fancy, dancy. It is dark. It is hard. It is a third world, and the word "normal" is no where to be found. I wake up from sweating to the sweet sound of roosters (who havent quite gotten the correct schedule down pat)and where the sun never blinks. Throw my hair in a bun, put on a skirt, grab a granola bar, and head to the village. Easy I know. So I walk outside to get 100 eyes staring at me because my skin is just so ghostly. I walk pass the ladies washing clothes in the filthy ditch water while their small babies play in the dirt near by. I arrive at Noldi

May Update

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                                           This is Valerie. My neighbor and best friend!              I walked outside to where the kids were playing and found a plastic bag with a dead baby bird in it, no taller than 6 inches. They killed it with a rock and will share it for dinner. I know we eat chicken and turkey but this just turns my stomach. I gave them my left over rice to share. A day doesn't go by where I don't hear "Ellie, I'm hungry" "Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread" Proverbs 30:8 Building a brand new house for Doune, who will be one of La Limye's employees in the near future.   Cooking 17 bags of spaghetti for the village. We top it off with a ketchup/mayonaise sauce!   Our greenhouse/shadegarden on the left. The home for girls in the middle. The front gate entrance on the right.   At 375ft down, we hit lots of beautiful, God given, clean water!!! We have tanks to fill

At the end of the tunnel

2 Corinthians 4:8-9 "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." I wake up and go to wash my face and not a drop of water will come out. My water tank was empty. I receive a call from a friend saying he had found a great van in St. Marc, one hour North of me. We arrive and find out that there is no bus to be found, but we are told there are several in Port au Prince. So we take the hour trip back towards home and another hour trip towards the city. Yes, indeed we did find two beautiful vans that could be used for mission teams and the children . The van would probably seat around 15 people. Only problem was there was only one seat in the van. The rest were missing. (For you all that know this culture, asking questions and calling ahead would of done no good) As we head further into the city, we pass street orphans and beggers, awomen trying to sell her 5 tomatoes,