Thanksgiving.

"O come, let us sing unto the LORD: let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms. For the LORD is a great God, and a great King above all gods. In his hand are the deep places of the earth: the strength of the hills is his also. The sea is his, and he made it: and his hands formed the dry land. O come, let us worship and bow down: let us kneel before the LORD our maker."

Psalm 95:1-6

To say these last few months at Ekisa have been hard is the understatement of the year. Satan is attacking big time.

Honestly, some days just knock me flat on my knees. I internalize things, a bad habit. And slowly I am learning to lay everything down at the cross.

EVERYTHING.

And it is hard. My instinct is to carry the burdens for each of our children.

Carry their pain, their loss, their heartbreak.

And before I know it I am crippled by the weight: the pain and loss and heartbreak make my heart strain and knees go weak. And stupidly, over and over, I continue to carry this load until I can’t move another inch, and have to lay it at the cross of our Savior. Jesus died so we could live. Fully live. Lay down the hard, the loss, the pain, the ugly at the feet of the cross and choose JOY. He wants to carry us, and our burdens.

This Thanksgiving, instead of focusing on the hard…I am laying the hard at the feet of the cross.

And I am clinging to the joy that comes in thanksgiving....

Thankful for the joy that rain and mud can bring.

Thankful for watching old friends re-unite in a new home.

Thankful for Viola, our full time physical therapist.

Thankful for her heart and patience for each child

Thankful for a beautiful service, for two angels who left us too soon.

Thankful for Nam. She inspires me daily to choose joy.

Today I stand in awe of what He has done.

He is faithful.

They come.

They come weary. Hopeless.

They come to us from far away, and from just around the corner.

They come to us desperate, unsure, and fearful.

Some come with their bags and stay until they become part of the family. Some only come with their child expecting to leave them behind, and are angry when they realize we are not in the business of relieving parents from their duties to their children, but in the business of empowering them.

Sometimes they are just relieved that we are here to help them.

Sometimes it works. Sometimes they change their minds, and begin to see the worth in their child. They begin to take pride, and love them better. Walls that society taught them to build against the disabled come tumbling down. It is an honor to sit sideline to this miracle.

Sometimes we don’t need to tell them the worth of their child, they know full well. They just wanted to be around people who could see that worth too.

So we fill the gap, in many different ways. The room in the boys quarters is usually full, full of mothers and children. Full of fresh, new, hope.



Mama Mercy came with her reservations, and her doubts. She came very young and weary, with her severely malnourished daughter. As the both adjusted to life here, Mama Mercy was angry. She did not want to be here and did not want much to do with her daughter. After about a week, something changed. Mama Mercy now loves her child with a fierce passion, and has begun to see the true worth in her daughter.



Mama Denise came to our gate, with empty pockets and no place for her and her daughter to rest their heads. She thought her only option was to put her daughter in an orphanage, until she got back on her feet. We insisted that was not an option, and we could offer her a job and they could stay as long as she needed. Mama Denise was so excited you would have thought she won the lottery. Her fierce, unwavering love for her daughter is an inspiration to all of us.



Mama Ronald came to our gate, after traveling across the entire country. She was fearing for her childs life, who had untreated spina bifida and hydrocephalus. We quickly got the surgery Ronald needed, and Mama Ronald and her son recovered here at Ekisa.

These women are my heroes. Too soon they will leave the comforts of Ekisa, and go home. To their families, to their loved ones. But they will carry with them the love and acceptance they experienced at Ekisa, and my prayer is that it will give them the strength to carry on loving these children even when the going gets rough.