If we’re being completely honest, sometimes I’m really frustrated with the way my life is turning out.

I’ve always wanted to do something out of the ordinary. I think that we all want to feel like we’ve done something significant with our lives. I think that there is the slightest fear in all of us that we will fail, that we will miss our cue, or waste the perfect moment to do something great. Even when I was thirteen, I remember thinking that I wanted to do something different…something that would leave the world a better place. And it all seemed a lot easier when my Mom was making me dinner every day and “credit history” and “bills” were words that were never in my vocabulary. If we’re being honest, when I was that thirteen-year- old little girl, I thought that my life at twenty-one would look a lot different than it actually does.

I was supposed to know exactly where my life was going. I was supposed to have a boyfriend. I was supposed to be a lot more patient with my brothers and know at least five recipes off of the top of my head. I was supposed to wake up early every morning to exercise. I wanted to have a good bit of money in my savings. I wanted to be the girl that had it all figured out.

And in my most frustrated moments like today, when my bank account is practically empty and I can’t remember the last time that I exercised, when I burn (literally) everything I cook, and thinking about what I’m supposed to do after graduation absolutely terrifies me, I can hear God’s voice saying, “Sweetie, your life has to go differently than expected so that it can be better than you ever expected.”  

Isn’t that the scary truth? I’m so quick to become frustrated with God because the new and unknown is so scary. When everything you planned is crumbling, it feels like He is abandoning. But He’s doing the exact opposite. He’s taking things away so He can give us something so much better. We ask time and time again for Him to do something extraordinary through us. To make our lives stand out—to make our lives significant. But yet we still want to be comfortable. We were made to be different, and sometimes being different brings hurt.

So when we’re terrified of what is in front of us, when it’s new and scary and lonely and people are disapproving and discouraging, He isn’t walking away. He’s just giving us what we’ve prayed for time and time again.

I’m so guilty of thinking that “having it all together” makes me closer to God. The only thing that brings us closer to Him is to be at His feet. And that never requires us to be perfect. It doesn’t mean we have to have our hair brushed and our tears wiped and our plans set in stone. It means that we realize we are nothing in comparison to Him. We are weak and broken and so unbelievably flawed, but that He is our Dad and He will lead us and guide us and use us and most importantly, love us.

He doesn’t just want us when we’re clean and perfect and pure.

He’s our Dad, and Dads want their children even when they’re dirty and guilty and scared.

People ask me a lot of the time, what made you want to go across the world to help orphaned children? Can't you just use the money and help here? Do you enjoy riding 15 hours on a plane and landing in a place where you have to sleep with a mosquito net and buy bottled water so you don't get sick? I've had people ask these questions from a genuine place of curiosity, and in those cases, I love to explain why every bit of inconvenience is totally worth it to me. But many times, I've had people ask those very same questions with different undertones. Many times, people think that I'm too "extreme" and that spending $2,000 on a plane ticket is simply ridiculous. I've heard people that I love the most call it "excessive" and "weird." And I'll be honest, sometimes, in the middle of fundraisers and logistics and raising money to get back on that plane, I have to sit down and remember the little faces that make it all so worth it.

Recently, though, something happened all too close to home that reminded me of why I choose to say, "Yes, I'll fight for them," even when that's the hard answer. Even when I'm tired. Even when it's been nine months and I can't even remember their little hands or the way they smell or what it was like to hold a sick baby in my arms. Even then, in the hardest of times, I know that as a follower of Christ, I was made to fight for these children. Convenient or not.

"The test results were abnormal," my Mom said over the phone as my heart broke for someone I love more than I could ever explain. "She's going back for more testing in the next few weeks." I'll never forget the weeks that followed that phone call. Even though I tried to think positive, my mind raced with the possibilities of the devastation a sickness like this could bring. It was the last thing in the world I wanted this family to go through. And then I thought about that families little girl. What if she had to watch her Mom go through this? Who would be there to help her with her make-up before her first homecoming? Who would be there to hear about her first dates and cook for her friends when they came over? It was crazy--all of the sudden, I became such a fighter. There were no measures that seemed too extreme. No distance that seemed too far. I had already decided, if the worst happened, I would move to where they lived, and be the best mother-figure I could ever hope to be. Quitting school was an after thought, and my own "plans" quickly became to seem nonexistent when compared to the importance of taking care of this little girl. Because I loved this person so much, it didn't seem like sacrifice--it just made sense. I know that if I were in this mother's position, I would want someone to do whatever it took to make sure that my little girl was taken care of, so why would I not do that for her?

I still thank God today that, after many follow-up doctor's appointments, she was told that it was nothing to be concerned about. Although I feared the worst in that situation, I learned one lesson I will never forget: You will do immeasurable things for the people you love.

And then it hit me--this "worst case scenario" has happened to millions of children around the world. 13 million children to be exact. 13 million children have had both parents die and left with no one to care for them. These kids are referred to as "double orphans." That means that there were 26 million parents in the world that were forced to leave their children before they were supposed to. Mothers that were laying on their death bed suffering from AIDS as they wished that they would make it to see their first born graduate from high school. Fathers who woke up and kissed their children goodbye before leaving for work and never came home because they were killed innocently due to an unstable government that caused civil war. This happens. It isn't just a worst nightmare to some people.

And I can guarantee you one thing. If those Mothers and Fathers were still here, they would be begging us, "Please, do whatever it takes. Those are my children." Because wouldn't you do the same thing? When it comes to saving your children, deadlines and degrees and status and money and reputation don't matter. They're your children.

These kids that I work with, they were all someone's child. Some of their stories I'll never know. And in those situations, I have the choice to fill in the blank. I will always choose to believe that their parents did everything they could. That they fought until they had no more fight in them. And I will love them and fight for them as if I were that mother. Because that mother is my sister in Christ, and one day when I see her in heaven, I hope that I can honestly say to her, "I did everything I could for your child."

Because wouldn't you want the same thing for your kids?

I remember sitting in a tiny hotel room halfway across the world two years ago, my heart broken and my eyes opened, when one of the members of our trip said, "Don't be surprised when you go back home and people don't want to listen to your stories over and over again. It isn't that they don't feel bad for these kids. They do. It's just that they don't know Henry. They haven't held little Christian's hand. They haven't seen Smallma's precious smile. It's a lot easier to fall in love with someone when you can hold their little hands and look into their eyes and see the need for love."

Since I've been back from Liberia, I've learned that numbers don't cut it. There are 300,000 kids in a country with half the population of Georgia. While I know this number is informative, it just doesn't have the ability to break your heart. Numbers don't have that effect. Faces do.

I want to introduce you to Josie. Josie is a seven-year old little girl whose story of redemption reminds me of God's faithfulness every single time I think of that sweet smile. Josie spent the first part of her life in a baby home in Uganda. During this time, she suffered malaria, a disease that can have a drastic effect on little bodies like Josie's. Although she overcame the malaria, Josie was continually sick and running high fevers.

Halfway across the world in Nashville, Tennessee, a family of eight, already passionate about loving orphans, decided to make a trip to Uganda. Suzanne and Mike would take their two oldest children to visit a dear friend who was serving there. During this trip, they visited the baby home where Josie was living. Josie couldn't walk, and when they arrived to the baby home each day her little body was sitting out in the hot sun, her head burning with a fever. Although they showered Josie with as much love as any family can give, the time to go home was approaching quickly, and they knew they had to get back to care for the other four kids at home. Once they returned, however, home didn't seem the same. Grace, their oldest daughter, continued to beg for Josie to be her little sister, and finally, after a lot of prayer, the Mayernick family decided that Josie's home was their family. This decision came with another trip to Uganda, and this trip held devastating news: Josie was positive for TB and HIV. Although this news stunned the Mayernick's, after 24 hours of desperate researching, they were assured that they could provide Josie with the proper treatment in Nashville, and soon, she would be able to live a normal life, just the same as any of their other children. After prayer, love, and a lot of commitment, the Mayernick's took Josie home.

Today, Josie is a precious, outgoing little bundle of joy who is, most definitely, a Mayernick at heart. Her precious Mom, Suzanne, allowed me to come visit their house in Nashville several months ago, and I'll never forget the love I saw in that family. And, yes, they were real people! A real family with fast food on the table, and friends over, and Josie begging, "Pllllllease Mommy, let me go to Chuckie Cheese!" But amidst all the "normal," there was something holy about this family. I got to see a Dad of seven kids watch and laugh at the craziness, greeting me with, "Welcome to our house. This is our life!" I met a lady who is so passionate about giving the 147 million orphans in our world a home, that she sacrificed time (on her oldest daughter's prom day!) to talk with me about what it means to love. I watched Josie, a little girl who, for months, had to have a nurse come into her house every day, run up to me and read a book in my lap. I watched brothers and sisters playing basketball and not realize the color of skin. I saw a family who was willing to commit to the difficult moments, the counseling, the craziness, the tears, and the questions, because they know that Josie, and Grace, and Michael, and Annabelle, and Miller Anne, and Joshua, and Caleb are ALL children of God. Each one of them is precious and irreplaceable and no matter where they came from or what happens in their life, they will fight for them. Because that is what love is.

I'm telling you this story because, tomorrow, a man named Daryl Roberts from my home town will start his venture to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. He is hiking "from the ground up," in order to rebuild our kids in Liberia, "from the ground up," and at the end of the day, he isn't hiking for the 300,000. He is hiking for the Josie's, and the Becky's, and the Henry's, and the Christian's. He is hiking so that every little mouth of the 300,000 is fed and every tummy healthy and every hand held, so that, eventually, every child will have a story like Josie's.

Join Orphan Aid Liberia in the climb by liking our Facebook Page or visiting our website: www.orphanaidliberia.com

If you would like to hear more about Josie's story, you can check out her amazing mom's blog: www.joiningthejourney.blogspot.com

Please join us for our first annual

Dance for Their Chance 

A night of dinner and dancing benefiting 

Orphan Aid Liberia

Saturday, October 20th at 7:00 pm

331 Kingston Hwy 293 NW

Cartersville, GA 30120

This night will include a bonfire, hayride, and chili cook off for your family to enjoy. All proceeds and donations will provide our Liberian children with deworming medication and educational opportunities.

Adult ticket: $10        Child (ages 3-12) ticket: $5

*Tickets sold at the door

RSVP number of attendees to Haley Benefield at haleyb@uga.edu or 678-478-0113

For those of you that have been following my blog, I'm home! Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your prayers and support. This summer has been the best one of my life and I couldn't have done it without your constant love.

The last ten days of the trip I went with the Cartersville crew to see the kids from last year. To say it made my whole day to get to pick little Henry up and have him in my arms is an understatement. Those kids are my family. It just felt like being home. One of the older girls named Victoria ran and hugged me and said, "I knew you would come back!" And once I pulled away and looked into her sweet eyes, I realized just how beautiful that statement was. A 13 year-old girl knew she was important enough for someone to remember. An abandoned child didn't feel abandoned for that moment. Food, shelter, and clothing aside, this little girl knew that she was worth something. That people love her enough to come back. What a beautiful thing.

Throughout the week we held a vision clinic for surrounding villagers to come and have their eyes checked to see if they needed glasses. Throughout the week we got to see grandparents able to see their grandchildren for the first time, teachers receive reading glasses to better assist their students, and children excited to sport their new sunglasses around Liberia.

                       (all credit for these pictures goes to Sarah Justus--she's incredible!)

For a few days out of the trip we made lunch and held Vacation Bible School for the kids. Seeing 125 kids eating spaghetti with their little hands was one of the most incredible moments of the trip for me. I know that sounds silly, but as I walked into the school and saw so many little faces smiling with tomato sauce absolutely everywhere, my heart was filled. To see our babies full and laughing hysterically trying to pick up noodles with their hands was one of the most satisfying feelings of my life. I guess that's what it feels like to be a parent. When your kids are happy, you're happy.

Throughout our trip, I had some special moments with a sweet little girl that is close to my heart. Becky is about 2 1/2 years old (we think--you never really know exact ages when working with orphans), and she is what a lot of people call a "failure to thrive" child. Until this past year, she had an extremely hard time gaining weight. She continuously gets malaria and has had to have several blood transfusions throughout the past year. Because of her medical conditions, she is developmentally behind as well. On my first trip to Liberia, I remember holding Becky's tiny body in my arms. She couldn't have weighed more than twelve or thirteen pounds, and she was at least one and half years old. She couldn't sit up on her own and she made almost no interaction with anyone. This year when I saw Becky for the first time, she looked like a new child. Granted, she has a long way to go and is still a sick, sick little girl, but it is incredible how much God can do in a year. Every day after lunch I would feed Becky two bananas. She loved bananas! I don't know if she gets to eat them a lot because it takes a lot of time to feed a baby two bananas (and it's hard to have that kind of time when you're caring for 125 children), but I just couldn't help but think to myself, "If someone were here to feed Becky two bananas every day, or just any healthy food in general, what would her health look like?" Would she be a "failure to thrive child," or would she be totally fine? Please, please be praying with me for this little girl. As I write this my heart hurts because I want to be with her every day. I want to be able to feed her bananas. I want to be able to change her diaper. I want to be there to take her to the doctor when she's sick. But I know that even though I'm not there, God is, and He loves her more than I do. So please, pray that Becky  grows, thrives, and knows that she is loved every single day.
                                                               
                                                                Becky in 2011

Becky in 2012

There are so many children just like Becky. There are so many children around the world that are sick and all they need to thrive is a loving environment. All they need is a family that cares enough to take them to the doctor. All they need is a family to have faith that they can overcome. All they need is a family that is willing to slow down and walk with them. I know a little girl named Josie that was so sick with AIDS in an orphanage in Uganda three years ago that she couldn't even open her eyes. I held Josie in her family's home in Nashville, Tennessee three years later and she was as healthy as any of the other kids in her Kindergarten class. She was able to read, ride her bike, and beg to go to Chuck-E-Cheese. But more than anything, she knew she had a Mommy and Daddy that loved her and would never leave her. There are so many stories just like this one, and there are so many waiting to take place. If you want to know more about how you can change the life of a child like Becky or Josie, you can visit www.allgodschildren.org (international adoption) or www.adoptuskids.org (in-country adoptions).

More than anything this summer, I have learned that God loves His children more than anything we can imagine. He will provide, no matter what it takes. Orphan Aid Liberia was started four years ago. In four years, God has provided food, clothes, shelter, and most importantly, love, to 125 children that had absolutely nothing four years ago. He didn't care that Liberia was 5,000 miles away from Cartersville, Georgia. He knew that 125 of His babies needed to be taken care of, and He found the means to make it happen.

If you would like to know more about Orphan Aid Liberia, check out the website: www.orphanaidliberia.com. If you click on the "IMPACT" tab you can learn more about sponsoring a child and what $10 a month can provide for one of our little ones. If you're interested in learning more about Orphan Aid Liberia, email me at haleyb@uga.edu and I will send you to the right people! We (and the kids) are always excited to have new members of the Orphan Aid family!

"But in my mind's eye I can see a place
Where Your glory fills every empty space
All the cancer is gone
Every mouth is fed
And there's no one left in the orphans' bed."