Open mouth, insert money.

There are times when all the signs point towards intervention, and yet God clearly tells someone to stay put. I've seen it happen, and I've supported it, and I've praised God when He goes against conventional wisdom. It happens with financial 'signs,' medical 'signs,' and everything in between.

I know. That seems to go against what I said just a few days ago. But here's the truth: as much as I rage against this reality...life isn't a cook-book, or a flow-chart, or any other simple color-by-number endeavor. It's never as black and white as the words on the screen make it appear.

We can't make snap decisions that remove a vibrant relationship as we discern whether circumstances are an opportunity for faith in staying, or faith in changing.

Flashback. (Ladies down south--since you're now my coworkers and you probably don't know this story, go ahead and skip ahead now to save yourselves from retroactive heart palpitations!) Omara was 6 months old, and we lived in Malawi where health care was extremely limited and the central hospital had a pediatric fatality rate of over 60%. She got her 6-month vaccines, and a few days later spiked a 103 fever. Then it crept up-104. 104.9. And then, when I was feeding her, I noticed that her fontanel was bulging. Some of you may know that's a big deal. Fever + bulging fontanel = meningitis until proven otherwise. Except that she didn't show any other signs. She was eating well. Her blood counts were normal. And so I wrestled for hours that night--agonizing over what I should do. I knew if I called my medical coordinators, we would be on the next plane, maybe even an evac flight at an enormous cost to the company. And as I wrestled, I knew in my spirit that whatever was going on could be managed where we were. Against conventional wisdom. And the next night she broke out in the rash that signaled the harmless viral illness, Roseola, with well-documented symptoms of very high fever and 'aseptic meningitis' which needs no treatment and has no long-term consequences. I learned something about faith in staying that night. It's not simple.

Flash-forward. Ethan is 11 years old. He's always been our sensitive one, less able to handle the hard knocks of life, the constant good-byes just when he's made a friend. His ADHD took us on a trip to South Africa from Malawi, because the signs were clear then that he needed some help. It helped for awhile. Then Dad's death in 2013 hit him harder than we expected. We've worked with professionals here in Kenya to help with processing the grief of loosing Grandpa. The ambiguous grief of loosing friends who aren't dead but are just as absent after they've moved away. The pressures of school and grades and handling expectations. We've 'read' the signs and made changes, with home-schooling for a portion of last year. We've pulled together all the possible resources at his school. And as we look ahead to junior high next year, the signs are clear. Our irrevocable calling is to care for him to the best of our abilities. That could be done for awhile in Malawi. Then it could be done in Kenya. And now. Now it's time to put my money where my mouth is.

Hello from the other side.

It's a lot easier to be counseling than to be experiencing! But when I talked with people dealing with similar issues, I spoke from the heart. I believed my convictions. I had faith it was godly counsel as best I knew to give.

And so we are moving forward, learning about faith in leaving this time. We'll return in June, most likely be in North Carolina (Raleigh-Durham area) due to the resources there. We will spend a full year, living out our calling by getting Ethan the support he needs to know and believe in his ability to thrive as God designed him to, and then to live within that confidence. We plan to return, stronger and healthier, in June 2017, ready to keep living out our calling here.