7 years today I held my 12 pound one year old son in my arms for the first time. I met my shy, scared 4 year old. I can bet you neither of them remember the date, but their bodies remember. A brain somehow etches into permanency the trauma of adoption.

My first encounter with my whiteness occurred my 6th grade year. We lived in Tampa and they were trying to integrate the schools (click the link for a great video explanation of redlining and current day segregation) so they were bussing our suburban neighborhood into the inner city.

In my mind, Christmas should be this idyllic time of tradition, joy, merry-ness, time around with the kids in the evening discussing the joy and expectation of Advent-Christ coming into the world.

Raise your hand if you have ever had a problem in your life. All of us. No one escapes problems. Not if you have a masters degree, live in a gated neighborhood, live in the slums of Africa, have a great family, etc, problems and suffering are unavoidable. Yet, culture points us to avoid it at all cost and keep it at arms length from ever touching our children.

So back a few months ago I listened to the Labelmaker series from Passion City church. It was a powerful series on our identity in Christ as written out in Ephesians 1 and 2.

As a kid growing up, I didn't do sports. My parents more ran with the philosophy of play outside and come in for dinner or come in by dark.

It's been especially hard for me to come back home after this time in Kenya. My 6th or 7th time stepping foot on the African continent, yet something I can't shake.

I can't believe its been so long since I have posted last. As I reflect on these last 6-12 months of my life, I feel like God put me in a season of silence while he worked on my growth.

There was a day in the trip where we did a few home visits of clients from other centers. We got to see a client in the first phase of the program, the middle phase, and a graduate who had finished the program over a year ago... please read their stories below.