Jack Black in Uganda

Obviously the culture and poverty situations are different between Uganda and Bolivia.  But the stories are similar.  This video really speaks to what we're trying to do down here...

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La Jornada 2015

It's been encouraging to see what God has been doing in the hearts and lives of the guys living in the house.  Watch as some of them share a bit of their stories....





Consider supporting our home here at La Jornada (The Journey) with a monthly contribution or with a one-time gift:

http://iteams.ca/programs/impact-bolivia/

Thank you! 

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My mom....

My mom stole a car once.  

She took her three boys along and invited the neighbour lady and her three kids to join her.  A couple of days later the RCMP showed up and she invited them in for coffee.  But they still made her give it back.

Honestly my mom isn't like anyone else I know.  She's an eastern girl who got dumped into the middle of the prairies where there wasn't a tree that met her approval for 200 miles.  My siblings and I knew that we didn't dare try to talk to her for the first few hours of the return trip to Saskatchewan after visiting Ontario...not if we valued our lives in any way.  I'm pretty sure dad knew that rule too.

Somewhere along the way though (perhaps somewhat reluctantly), mom decided that the prairies were home.  She planted trees around the yard...which against all odds lived...and buckled down to raise her family.

If you know us at all, you've probably learned quickly that we’re not your usual family.  

I have nine siblings.  

It's kind of like our own personal version of the United Nations.  I have a nephew who has corn rolls in his hair.  And nieces who are Native, Irish and East Indian...all mixed together in very cute packages.   One of my favourite moments was when my African brother-in-law (who's a musician and the only talented one in the bunch) gave a shout out to his family during one of his concerts and the whitest people in the crowd waved back.

When I worked at the boys' home here in Bolivia, I used to laugh because eating supper with 80 ex-street kids was quieter and less chaotic than meal times with my family in Canada.  My mom can throw together a meal for thirty (and that's just my siblings, their spouses and their kids) like no one else I know. 

I don't think I ever laugh as hard or get as annoyed or enjoy my days as much as when I'm hanging out with my family.  And in the middle of the chaos that are our family get together’s...there's my mom.  We all love our dad and he fixes our cars...but it's mom who holds the entire gong show together. 

At some point I should probably mention that mom doesn't just take care of us.  She's been taking in foster kids for the better part of thirty years and at any given moment there are usually a couple (or seven) little kids running around the house in various stages of undress and/or diapers. 

She's...ahem...70-ish...and middle of the night bottle feedings don't phase her in the least.  Sorry all my new-born mom friends…but it’s true.

Well...let's see...lessons from my mom... 

Number one is that anyone who sits at the table is treated as a member of the family.  The downside is that they have to move quickly if they want to eat.  The upside is that they're treated with love and respect and will receive the same lectures as the rest of us.

No matter what a person has done or not done, there's always grace and forgiveness.  There will likely be the aforementioned lecture...but tempered with said grace and forgiveness.

Life is nothing without the occasional adventure. 

There's nothing that can't be built or knocked down if you're creative enough and don't really care what it looks like after the fact.  If you don't like a wall in the house, wait until your husband goes hunting and then take a sledge hammer to it. 

There's as much value in a hand drawn picture in a cheap Walmart frame, drawn by a foster child, as there is in a valuable antique painting and they should hang side by side on the wall.

If you have to turn right in twenty seven blocks, it's okay to get into the right hand lane as soon as possible and come what may (be that buses that stop every block or a hundred other cars making slow right hand turns) you ride that sucker to the end. 

I'm not sure if that last one was so much a lesson as it was an observation from a son who sat in the passenger seat for too many years.

In the end, the most important lesson I've learned from my mom is that God is love.  I know this because I've seen it in my mom.  Every person, no matter their age, colour or background or mistakes they've made, has been created by God and deserves our love, encouragement, dignity and help. 

Both my parents taught me early on that there's no request for assistance from a friend, neighbour or stranger that shouldn't be met with a smile and a "Sure, what can I do?"  If I've ever seen the verse, "They'll know us by our love" personified in a person, it's in my mom.

All of those lessons have served me very well over the years.  Well, except for the driving in the right hand lane one.  That one drives me crazy.  But the rest is why I do what I do. 

The example that my mom (and my dad) set for us growing up is why every kid that comes into our house here is a part of our family and treated as such. 

It's why, when I see a need, my first thought is what can I do to help meet that need. 

It's why I want to provide a family for these guys who have never known a loving, Godly family…because my mom (and again my dad) provided this for me.

So Mom…here’s to you.  Happy Mother’s Day!  You deserve it.  

You really are the best mom a guy could ever ask for or have.  Thanks for loving all of us and being such a great example.  We all love you more than we could ever tell you.  

Well...not that I would probably even try to tell you (at least in person) because, after all, I am a male member of the Switzer family and Dad’s gene won out in the desire to avoid the touchy/feely stuff.  

This is also why the guys and I punch each other (as do my brothers and I) as demonstrations of our love and affection for each other…

Well, Mom….this is all just to say…

I miss you and I love you lots!  Hope you have a wonderful day!  

Lots of love!

Ken

PS  I really do wish I was there to give you a hug and some flowers or something.  Although, I did send a present home with the family that was just here because I’m the eldest and the most thoughtful and, of course, your favourite.  

I know that you can’t admit that because you are such a great mom….but we both know it’s true.

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