Floored.

Sometimes the way people reflect the image of God just floors me.

As many of you know, the organization we work for (New Horizons Foundation) is currently faced with many of the natural problems that come with success.  NHF does amazing work with youth in Romania, and that work has been noticed and appreciated -- and rightly so! -- by experts the world round.  It's Good work, life-giving work, work that makes me smile and skip as I walk home from an evening IMPACT meeting or hang up from a Skype call with leaders in Nicaragua.  But NHF's growth, like the growth of any organization, requires some changes -- in management structures, in sustainability, in governance and oversight, in leadership.  It happens to every organization.  It's natural, and a sign of Good things past and the promise of Good things to come.  But in the meantime, it's hard.

So Jack and I have wrestled with this throughout the last year -- witnesses to the pain and struggles of a teenage organization hitting puberty.  We don't have any answers, so we pray and complain and ponder and journal and complain and pray some more.  But what to do when you're new, and a foreigner, and you don't have any expertise?  It's easy to diagnose problems.  It's a lot harder to fix them.

Well.  In comes the amazing providential working of the Holy Spirit.  (You can tell I'm astonished right now; I almost never use the word 'providential'!)  So.  A few years ago, I was asked to be the student representative on the presidential search committee at Calvin College.  I didn't know at the time what saying yes to that meant, other than a lot of confidential meetings, a ton of extra reading during the months of my senior thesis, and working with important adults who impressed and intimidated me.  But through it all we were guided by this really kind, gentle man -- a consultant whose expertise was beautifully entwined in his gentle, empowering, thoughtful nature.  Rob's work left an extraordinary impression on me.  He probably knew from day one what the issues at Calvin were, all the things we needed in our next president, and how to heal as a community from the division that plagued us.  But -- in such a gentle, Jesus-like way -- he simply walked alongside us, gently probing, asking us questions in a way that provoked but never frightened, challenged but never attacked.  It sounds silly to say, but he was one of those people who just exuded love.  And sneaky, gentle brilliance.  Extraordinarily so.  Anyway, we eventually finished the search process, Michael Le Roy came to Calvin, I graduated from college, life went on.  I had learned a lot through that year-long process, about organizational structure and management and leadership and committee work and confidentiality and putting the needs of a community ahead of your own desires.  I was proud and grateful for the opportunity and everything I had witnessed and learned.  And that was that.

But recently I was thinking about NHF and suddenly had the idea to find Rob's contact information and just ask him if he had any advice for an organization in this tricky stage of expansion.  Little did I know that he would respond with such extraordinary generosity and kindness.  Jack and I just hung up from a Skype call with him, and I am just thankful.  Floored, really.  That God would fill His people and equip them to help and encourage one another in such remarkable ways... I'm really moved.  That God would put the pieces in place, at such a time and with such remarkable coincidences... I am astonished.  And that He would fill one of His servants with such gentleness and compassion and insight... I can only say, well, wow, and thank You.

So tonight I am encouraged.  It will be a long road, and who knows what will happen in our next few years here, with Rob or without him.  But for now I am just thankful that God cares about this organization, and that He provides the right people at the right time... and that they speak to us in His words, with His love, His peace.

Whew.  I am so, so thankful.

Haiti.

Just a few words... then pictures, as they're more eloquent anyway.

Haiti.  Mountains beyond mountains.  Torrential rain at night, smothering heat in the day.  Traffic beyond traffic, snarled and noisy, jolting in eroded roads made worse with every downpour.  Flowers vibrant above the dust-colored, newly-constructed houses. Tent camps and shacks for earthquake survivors, still, two years later.  Electricity flickers, obnoxiously for those of us (me) with no battery in our laptops -- but grateful for electricity and internet at all, in a city where so much was destroyed so recently.  Beautiful mansions hulking on steep hilltops, perched overlooking the city and the nearby ocean.  Amazing participants at the training, smart and committed and faithful and questioning.  Games and laughter and sweat and discussion.  Rice and beans with tomato-onion sauce, fish and chicken, sweet potatoes and fried plantains.  Delicious.

So much fun in games... including this trust game.

Communication games.

Haiti, welcome to the IMPACT international youth movement!

 From the guest house where we stayed.

Port-au-Prince.

Tap-taps.  Public transit like you've never seen.

A bit of a jolt to come around a corner to this sort of enduring destruction.

Beautiful colored homes on a hillside in Petion Ville (greater Port-au-Prince).

Fellow trainer Tibi and I with Abbel, one of our translators.

 IMPACT Haiti!

Nicaragua.

Because a picture is worth a thousand words, I'm going to put up some pictures from the IMPACT training in Nicaragua instead of smothering you with stories.  But a few words for Nicaragua: it was hot, full of gallo pinto (rice & beans) and homemade corn tortillas and amazing fresh juice.  It was full of energy and laughter and games with our fabulous, funny, intelligent participants.  And it was full of learning for me as a trainer, as international IMPACT coordinator, and as a person.  I am so thankful. 

Now for the pictures!

Lots of games and laughter at the training.

Small groups discussing the characteristics of Nicaraguan youth.

Teambuilding games, including the human knot!

Two participants came from Honduras to participate in the training.

Two of the participants came all the way from Mexico!

...and the rest of the group was from Nicaragua!

Now for the touristy pictures: check out the colorful public transit in Managua!

Oh, the bliss of hammocks.

On our one free day after the training, we went to the beach.  :)

A cathedral in Leon.

A view from downtown Managua... you can see Lake Managua, one of the 

largest lakes in Central America! 

Everything so colorful: a plaza in Managua.

The lovely lovely ocean.

Relaxing after six days of nonstop training... 

then on to Haiti to do it again!

Home sweet home.

Hey there, y'all.

It's been a long time.

As most of you know, I (Kelly) have been in other climes for the last few weeks -- namely, Nicaragua and Haiti, leading IMPACT International trainings.  The trip was wonderful and successful -- full of enthusiastic training participants and great hope for the future of the IMPACT program in these new places -- but I have to admit, I am really glad to be home.  I love working on IMPACT International (most days) ;) and seeing this youth movement spreading into new cultures and languages, growing and morphing organically, taking on new shapes and faces and colors in each new place.  The work is challenging and complex and some days, a little overwhelming.  But actually being there, meeting the leaders who will be directly implementing the IMPACT program in their home communities and languages and churches, was so exciting and rewarding.  A good reminder of why the budgets and spreadsheets and Skype meetings are worth it.

But now it's time for me to remember why I am here -- in this little apartment in this little coal-mining town in the Carpathians.  Last night I returned to the girls' group I have been attending this winter and spring, a gathering of young women from the Pentecostal church across the street.  We meet weekly to talk about being a woman and being a Christian and what all of that means at the age of 15 in small-town Romania.  (Talk about some interesting cultural contextualization, since the book we're using is translated from English and written from an American evangelical woman in the 1980s!)  I hope to write a few posts about stories from that group later, because some amazing things have happened in those Tuesday evenings.  But for now, I am just rejoicing to be back, and to remember why I live in Romania, and not in an airport.  It's so good to speak Romanian again, even if Spanish grammar keeps falling off my tongue in these first few days of transition.  To taste freshly-squeezed juice, even if it's not from local tropical fruits.  To gather together with these women whose names I know, whose stories I am learning, whose hearts I treasure.  It's so Good.

And tonight we have IMPACT, me and Jack and Tibi and all our kids, and I can't wait to see them all again.  I am excited to play together, to tell them about the tropics (can they even imagine?), to show them pictures of Haitian tap-taps and Nicaraguan beaches.  I am excited to hear about the project they've dreamed up for this community, in these lovely mountains.  It will be Good.

And it is Good -- oh so good, does it even need saying? -- to be back with my husband.  What joy.

So despite the jet lag, and the groggy mornings, and the weird dreams and exhaustion that are plaguing this first week back -- it is Good, Good, Good to be home.  Because for now, this is home -- and I am rapidly remembering why it's here.