Holy Anger.

It seems as if for the longest time, I have been unable to find the motivation to sit down and write about what has been going on here.  I sit down now, determined to write, and only one thing comes to mind.  Holy Anger.  

In the last few months of my time here in Zambia, there has been situation after situation that has stirred all consuming anger within the depths of me. There have been days where I find myself, facedown- outstretched on the floor, banging my fists hard into the floor---and it's been hard for me to understand this anger; not the source of the anger, of course, but in the relationship this anger has to my heavenly father.  I've battled the Lord, pleading with him to take away this all consuming anger, and yet he hasn't.  And when I ask him why, he simply says- "You asked for my heart, didn't you Sophie?"

As of late, one of the nearest and dearest prayers to me truly has been, "Lord, give me your heart." Over and over I ask, finding that he is indeed faithful to give me his heart, but differently than I ever  envisioned he would.  He's giving me his heart--but not just the tender parts--not just the compassionate parts and definitely not just the merciful and the gracious parts.  

I sweat. I cry. I scream.  I plead with the Lord, begging him for his righteous judgment to fall.  I heave.  I clench my fists- my entire body in agony.  My face beats red, my heart pumps heavily.  I ache all over.  I come to my knees, nausea consumes me.  I beseech Jesus to say "enough is enough" and come.  Nothing about me is polite.  Nothing about me is controlled.  Nothing about me remains calm.  I burn with holy anger. 

Visions file thru my mind.  Real stories of real children.  Real stories, of real children- that I love:

A little girl, orphaned by AIDS and witchcraft.  She grows, rising each day with her first words having to declare, "I am a bitch," to her so-called, "mother."  Now 13, choosing "hope" -- that is, jumping in front of cars, attempting suicide almost daily.  Satan surrounds her, manifestly deliberately in her home- alive in the people that are supposed to "love" her.  

Another.  He's 2, sick with collapsing lungs and laryngitis.   His father choosing selfishness, money and bear instead of him.  Willingly, he leaves.  He leaves his son in the hands of abuse, to run after worthless things.  He promises to come back for his son.  He won't. 

One more.  Deaf and unable to speak. Brutally raped, now living with HIV and deep inward shame.  

Another, beaten to paralysis.  

One more, orphaned by AIDS. Starving but seated in the presence of her "family"--who enjoys their third meal of the day.  She withers in stature and in spirit.

A baby boy.  Left in a toilet at the bar.  His mother a prostitute, valuing him as feces.  Now, he's 7- violent, and full of rage and bitterness.  Beating up other children, leaving bruises and wounds on their faces.  All he knows is hatred and rejection.  

It angers me to think that in many of these children's lives, I honestly might be the ONLY one that loves them in an earthly sense.  It enrages me that I'm the only one at the bedside of an orphan, as her 94 pound fully pregnant body,  only nearly escapes death as she births her own child.  It infuriates me to think that for some of these children, I am the only one that will ever fight for them.  

As I am learning to behold this holy anger, I am also learning that in his sovereignty, Jesus does sometimes say "Enough is Enough."  Although I cannot understand His ways and why his "enough is enough" is only sometimes, I do trust him, and that is where my heart finds rest- even in this anger.  My heart finds rest at the foot of the cross, where I see my beloved's body, hung but now raised, remembering that he too, had to submit to his father's will.  He too, loved the Father's sovereignty more than he hated his death.  Well, maybe not more than he hated his death, but he did love his father's sovereignty enough to endure his death.  And that is where I am learning to be: 

Loving Jesus' sovereignty enough to endure the anger instigated by death, abuse, and injustices that the children I love face daily.  

He will make justice his measuring line. (Isaiah 28:17)

The Zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish and uphold justice and righteousness. (Isaiah 9:7)

He will make disaster for those who issue oppression and withhold justice from the orphan and the widow, so much so that nothing will remain but to cringe among the captives or fall among the slain. (Isaiah 10:1-4)

I know that the Lord secures justice for the poor and upholds the cause of the needy. (Psalm 140:12)

Newspaper Article

Local Woman's Mission Becomes Even More

Sophie Hartman felt called to go to Zambia and do mission work, as some do.

Hartman, a 2007 graduate of Plainwell High School, went even a step beyond most working to help the people overseas better themselves spiritually and materially.

She adopted Natasha, who’ll be 3 in June, from an orphanage where she met the girl at an orphanage she visited weekly as part of her mission.

In an email from her home in the Ibex Hill area of Lusaka, Zambia, Hartman explained how it came about.

“When the Lord called me to Zambia, I knew it was to be a mother,” she said. “At the time, I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant, neither did I when I met Natasha.

“As the months went on and I spent more and more time with her, I began asking Him whether or not this child was one He had chosen for me—since he had told me in January 2010 that I had a daughter—though I knew not who she was or where she was.”

She said that being able to step in and become Natasha’s foster mother pursuing adoption became possible after the girl’s case “miraculously” opened up.

“But, the moment I met her—as with any child I meet—I made the decision to open my home to her,” Hartman said. “The Lord’s heart is so full of love for His children, that never could I deny them.”

Her path to Zambia was a little circuitous. When she was growing up, her parents Art and Anne moved Sophie, her brother Kyle and sister Samantha to Plainwell when Sophie was in first grade. She said she loved the small town feel and grew up to attend Hope College. After her first year attending school there, she followed up on what she’d always known she wanted to do and went to a missions conference in Detroit.

“I had always known that if I was to ever do ministry outside of the states, I would want to go somewhere in Africa,” Hartman said. “So I signed up to go to Botswana (for) a trip that would be working with orphans.

“A few weeks before the scheduled departure date, something happened within Botswana that forced the leaders to cancel the trip.”

Having her fundraising in hand, she had the choice of going to Australia and Zambia.

“I prayed about it and I truly felt like the Lord was opening doors for me in Zambia, and so I went,” Hartman said.

She left in the summer of 2008 and remembers praying about what to do as she was returning from the trip.

“...I remember on the airplane ride home asking the Lord, ‘Why did you bring me here?’” she said. “He simply responded, ‘I’ll bring you back.’ At that point I knew that I would return to Zambia, but I had no idea it would be in the capacity which I now am serving.”

With that, she left Hope and enrolled at Phoenix-based Grand Canyon University where she could more easily finish college through distance learning (which she did in 2011, earning a bachelor’s degree in Christian studies) and returned to Zambia.

She works for GEMS International (Girls Everywhere Meeting the Savior), which attempts to help Zambian churches start girls’ ministries.

Hartman also took time to visit orphanages in the area she works in.

“I went in one day and there she was, six months old and barely 6 pounds,” she said. “She was screaming and crying, so severely malnourished and neglected. She had just been brought to the orphanage that week.”

Hartman set about trying to become Natasha’s guardian.

“...After the Lord performed miracle after miracle, she came home to live with me in August 2011,” she said.

Zambian law requires adoptive parents to be at least 25, so Hartman won’t be able to adopt until 2014. Then, she’ll be able to legalize the adoption in the United States.

She has a very simple suggestion for others considering mission work.

“I would encourage people to get on their knees before the Lord and ask Him for His heart for the nations,” Hartman said. “Asking Jesus to give us His heart is one of the most dangerous prayers we can pray, but it is life-giving.

“Mission work isn’t about adventure, mission work is about giving to the Lord what He is worthy of.”

She said she doesn’t know where her life will go next.

“I have one future plan, and that is to be obedient to Jesus, and live a life that brings him glory,” Hartman said. “If that means I stay here, then that’s great. If that means He takes me somewhere else, then that’s great too. I really do love Zambia, though.

“I could stay here forever.”

someone stepped in.

She stands a little taller.

She smiles a lot bigger.

She hugs a lot harder.

She trusts a lot more.

She babbles constantly.

She laughs always.

She sings loud.

She dances through her days.

This hasn't always been the case:

(August 25, 2011)

Six months ago, she was plagued with sickness.

Six months ago, she hardly smiled.

Six months ago, hugs were hard to come by.

Six months ago, she trusted no one.

Six months ago, only cries escaped her mouth.

Six months ago, she knew no laughter.

Six months ago, she found no reason to sing.

Six months ago, nothing was worthy of dancing.

But someone stepped in.

(February 25, 2012)

The "Great I Am" -- The one who makes demons shutter and flea; the Majestic King- the Worthy Lamb; the Keeper of All Promises-- He stepped in.

He intervened.

He set her apart, ever faithful to his Word.

Justice came.

This motherless child and this childless woman, now celebrate family.

It must be known-- she's no orphan anymore!

Joy explodes out of her.

Love bleeds from her heart.

Compassion fills her tender spirit.

Redemption is written across her forehead.

Restoration manifests heavily in her life.

"Hallelujah" rolls off her little lips- and freedom marks every hour.

Innocence is new, no chains hold her back.

Oppression ceases.

Someone stepped in.

This is my daughter. The one whom I love.

Though today marks a special day, in reality- it is just another. It's just another day I get to stand back in awe-- witnessing this miracle. My heart stands humbled before the Lord today.

Jesus, I am forever indebted to you for entrusting me with this child.

Thank you for stepping in- and for fulfilling your word in this child's life.

You have not left her. But you have come.

You have stepped in.

We fit.

It's days like today I remember exactly why the Lord has me here.

It's never pretty. It's always messy.

They're always snotty. They're always filthy. They're always crying, desperate, lonely, and broken. But they're always beautiful.

Today I had the privilege of taking three of my missionary friends to the home where Natasha came from. I was full of excitement, anticipating the beautiful sight of watching Megan, Chase, and Stephanie with Natasha's brothers and sisters. I simply couldn't wait to see them become Jesus to these children, thankful that there were three more laps, three more intercessors to stand in the gap, and three more sets of holy hands to hold these precious babes.

As I watched them, it was like the greatest sense of holy pride flooded my heart. I felt such a peace, such a desperate thankfulness to the Lord, for allowing me to see this. I was overwhelmed at the fact to see three more precious hearts, giving what they could today, to show these children Jesus. And though it wasn't much, it was everything.

Megan, so preciously held a little boy, broken and deserted, confused and afraid. His loneliness ceased for a short while, taking refuge in the comfort of her embrace. I saw her eyes, every so often making contact with mine- she fit. Right there. And so did he.

To my left was Chase. Squatting up against a brick wall, children surrounded him. Two children clung to each of his arms, and one wrapped right around the front of him. I watched four little girls and one little boy, manifest their longing for an earthly father, as well as their longing for their heavenly father. And I saw Chase fit. Right there. So did they.

And straight ahead, I watched Stephanie. In her arms a child with sores covering her mouth. I watched as Stephanie spoke life into her, with the look in her eyes believing in God's mercy for this sweet girl. I saw her look beyond the sickness and brokenness and find treasure. And I saw this baby girl, resting ever so lightly in her arms. She fit. Right there, in Stephanie's arms. And Stephanie fit there too.

When I sat down tonight, I had no idea what would "come out" in this blog attempt, but now I understand why the Lord is having me write what I have. Megan, Chase and Stephanie- they are beautiful people. They are normal people. They are family to me. And this blog I want to be my "thank you" to them.

Thank you, for living out the gospel.

Thank you, for loving these children, the one's the world labels as filth.

Thank you, for sharing in the joy I have when I am with these children--my daughters' best friends--and the treasures of my heart.

Thank you, for carrying the burden with me- the heavy, overwhelming cry for these children to be placed in families--for the Lord's faithfulness to manifest in their little lives..

And thank you, for being the hands and feet of Jesus, so that I could see him today.

I surely saw him.

I don't always know why the Lord has me in Zambia, and quite frankly, most days I don't "feel" like this is the perfect fit. But today, it was. Today, I fit.

Thank you for sharing today with me.

I'll find you.

Life here in Zambia these past few months has been incredible, challenging, exhilarating, mundane, mournful, joyful, and everything in between. Over time, I have learned that never does time pass here, where in one month (even one day, actually) every emotion in the book has not been felt. I've learned that Zambia is an "all or nothing" kind of place to be. You have to take it all, or leave it all. There's no in between.

Time continues to pass, and I am completely amazed that it is already February. I wonder where the time has gone, only left to reason that the busyness of motherhood has something to do with it :) It's amazing to see 6 months approach, from the day that Natasha came home. Wow, I can hardly write that without a smile and a few tears being shed.

Anyways, a blog post has been brewing in my mind for quite some time now, and an encounter I had today has injected me with the necessary motivation to actually sit down and write…so here we go :)

---

I've been in a wilderness season. The Lord has been ever so near, and his word and voice have been MAGNIFIED in this time, however, any hints of direction have been few and far between. One of the pieces of scripture that I have been sitting on in this period though, convicts me-challenges me-and has served as the beacon of light in this darkness. That beacon leaves me determined and whispering to the Lord each morning, "I'll find you. I will find you today, Jesus." Have a look:

Matthew 25:34-40

"Then the King will say to his sheep, 'Come you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'

"The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'

The most intriguing part of this scripture that has caught (and hasn't yet let go of) my attention is the fact that Jesus personifies himself as other people. His words reflect his presence with the hurting and the hungry--his presence so thick with them that he actually declares that it was HIM who was hungry, HIM who was naked, HIM who was in prison.

My prayer this morning: "Jesus, I'll find you. I'll find you and I will love you, right in the place I find you. Lead me to where you are…"

My encounter this morning: "Today Lord, I met you in a parking lot. About 11 years old, with a basket of oranges on your head. Half naked and filthy. You greeted me, and told me you would wait for me while I did some work. Thirty minutes later there you sat, waiting patiently. You approached me, excited to tell me that you are in school but that you are trying to sell these oranges to help buy food for your remaining family and pay your school fees. I bought K20,000 ($4) worth and you were so excited! Your smile was beautiful, now forever etched in my mind. You nearly laughed, excited knowing you only needed K15,000 ($3) more to buy school shoes…something you never even dreamed of having. I looked deep into your eyes and saw the love of your Father, and I spoke it to you. I spoke clearly of his provision for you, and you bubbled with joy.

As I said goodbye and began pulling out of the parking lot, the security guard approached you--but not without me seeing. Immediately your Father spoke to me saying, "Speak up for my son, he has no voice." Though the guard had already started scolding you, I said, "Excuse me sir, is there a problem?" He shook his head but then looked back at you and said "You cannot be selling here." Obviously, he didn't know that I understood the Nyanja he was speaking. Then I said, "Excuse me, I'm sorry sir, but I am actually very blessed by this boy. I was wanting to buy some oranges this morning, so he's fine here. This boy is not bothering anyone." Then reluctantly he backed up from you, and said to me, "Yes Madaam, he's fine. There's no problem."

I looked at you and said, "If God is for us, who can be against us?" And I winked.

In my determination to find you Jesus, it is obvious to me that today, I found you. Not in my own doing, but because of your grace…your heavy presence that rests on the poor and the hungry, that moved me to find you there.

Today's encounter is not about the fact that I really didn't need a bag of oranges this morning- and it's not even about the fact that someday in heaven there will be a reward for your sheep who find you.

It's about the fact that today, I found you, and EVERYTHING in me LOVED you. Right where I found you. That can only be attributed to your glory.

And I'll find you again tomorrow, Jesus.

I'll find you again tomorrow.

the ONE matters.

Tonight I am ever mindful of the fact that "I can give more." Of course this in no means is speaking of my flesh's ability to give, but the spirit's ability to give through me. I am humbled and deeply convicted that I still have yet to give all of me to Christ, and his work, and I am mortified at this thought. Though my heart and spirit are willing, still I find both hidden and outright areas of pride and unwillingness in my flesh.

Tonight, I will toss and turn as I try to sleep, wondering how much longer I will dabble around in my selfishness- toying with idleness and comfort. My mind will wander far from godliness, as I dream about things that will make my life easier, or more comfortable. I will conceive wicked things in my mind, completely forgetting the cross that I've chosen to carry, in response to a perfect love offered freely to me. I will lose sight of my Precious One's face, defaulting back to gaze upon situations that surround me. This I hate. This must change.

I've known for quite some time that some big changes are right around the corner in my life. Though I am unsure of exactly what these changes will look like, I am convinced that they will be BIG, and they will be driven by LOVE- deeper love, targeted more weightily on becoming the hands and feet of Jesus. Please join me in praying for these changes, both to be made in my life and ministry, but even more important, in the depths of my heart.

On a side note, here is a picture of my sweet NaNa. Today was a very special day with her- simply because together we called down the presence of the Spirit. We enjoyed and celebrated the family we have become, and with no one around we thanked Jesus for this perfectly united duo that we are. I find that just like my secret place with Jesus is one of the most delightful experiences of my earthly life, so is my secret time with Natasha. We just go together…and we both know it.

And today, her little smile and her sweet little voice that whispered, "I love you Mommy" and "I know Mommy loves Nana" reminded me that the Gospel is about the ONE. And maybe, just maybe, I will sleep tonight, knowing that though there is a world of starving children in my backyard tonight, that I can still do more for----there is one who is no longer starving and hurting. Jesus says that even ONE MATTERS.

My Love.

I wept inwardly as I made my way through multiple blogs last evening- blogs of men and women across the globe, crying out for justice for the orphan. Most included pictures of big families with many children- some biological, but more of them, adopted.

One blog that leaves my mind and heart stirred more than the others is a blog belonging to Renee Laux, a mother of 13 (3 biological, 9 adopted, and guardian of 1), a recent widow, and the founder of the Orphan Justice Center in Missouri. Her and her husband's (who passed away in December 2009) hearts are so incredibly pure--so passionate and so much like the Father's. I could hardly believe as I read.

There was one specific post that truly tugged at my heart. It was 6 months after Renee's husband went home to be with Jesus, and the Lord had asked her to adopt another child. Her blog post was actually a letter- to Derek- just sharing with him how the Lord had spoken, and how she knew how he would be so proud. She said that just because he was gone, didn't mean she was going to stop with their dreams. In her words, she wrote:

"So, as I move forward with our vision to restore the broken and wounded, I do it knowing I am not alone. Jesus is here with me, and all you and I dreamed of together is going to move forward. I am determined to run this race well and to do it with the same passion as when you and I did it together."

This is a heart, fully and actively pursuing justice for the orphan. A heart, with such deep revelation of our redemption- by our Father who sent us his precious son to accomplish our adoption.

After reading Renee's blog and praying through it over and over, my heart is motivated to do something tonight, that I've never done nor would I have ever thought to do. As I read Renee's words, her heart bleeding with each one- precisely chosen, they resonate with me in a unique way: I am not a widow, but I am without my husband.

So here, with all condolences for Renee and her precious family, I want to write a letter to my future husband--the one I am longing for, and the one whose absence is huge in my life. I do so with no intention of trying to pretend I know what it's like to have lost my best friend- but with the intention of displaying Christ's grace, which enables me to press on in fighting for the orphan--even without my husband.

My Love,

Tonight marks the night of my greatest longing for you. I know not where you are, or who you are-- but my spirit finds sweet rest in knowing you sit at the feet of Christ and in the presence of his Holy Spirit. My mind wanders, endlessly scrolling throng the things that I wish I could talk to you about. I miss your embrace, though I've never even known it. With the dream I believe we we will one day live out together at the forefront of my mind tonight, I want you to know this:

As I move forward, pursuing the destiny and vision the Lord has set before us- to embody Christ's faithfulness to the orphan- I do so knowing that I am not alone. Jesus is here with me-- and for all we will one day dream together, he is already moving forward. I am determined to run this race well, and to do it with the same passion as when you and I will someday do it together.

I said this before I brought Natasha home, even though we are clearly without you. I said, "I will not enter motherhood with the mindset that we are without. The Word says, "My Maker is my husband", and "God is a Father to the fatherless." And these two truths are what I am still clinging to.

Beloved, my heart is set on obedience and allegiance to Jesus alone. Just as the Lord spoke and I brought Natasha home, so he will- for many more precious children. I trust him and I place my "Yes" everyday at his feet- regardless of where you are. I know someday you will be proud, and that the "Yes" will one day be ours, as one.

I can't say I understand why we aren't yet one, but I have received revelation of his grace---which enables me to press on in fighting for the orphan---even without you at my side.

So tonight, my best friend, I believe the Lord will touch you. I believe he will blow your mind with his faithfulness, and give you a revelation of the grace he has poured out on me, your bride, and your daughter Natasha. I believe he will cast in you vision that will one day lead our family in caring for the orphan, and that he will draw you deep into rejoicing over his precious goodness. I believe tonight, you will get lost in the magnificence of Jesus, with thanksgiving and holy pride overtaking you.

You sweep me off my feet already, Love--and I long for our union. But I also know, that the Lord will blow my mind someday, with the provision of you in my life, and together we will run this race hard.

All my love,
Sophie



(Check out Renee's blog: ( http://louxfamilyblog.com ) what an amazing heart she has. Her eyes are locked in, gazing at the beauty of Jesus, and her heart is set on obedience to the reoccurring command throughout scripture to care for the orphan.)

Oh Lord, let me someday be half as beautiful as this woman.