Back to the grind. I've been home in the US for a few days and let me say, it is good to be home. That was a trip I will never forget, but it is so good to see my family. I am sorry that I was not able to update my blog the last few days I was in Africa. However, Internet is always hit or miss. I actually had access to high speed Internet the last two nights in South Africa, however, it would not allow me to get to my blog site. Who knows why?
I have been overwhelmed by many things since I've been back. It is overwhelming to be in the land of true abundance. To walk into an American grocery store has never been quite a thrill. To see the cars driving on American roads is a shock. To walk in and see how truly huge my own home is is humbling.
However, the thing that has been most overwhelming has been interaction with my own children. I spent a week-and-a-half with orphans. I shared last week about hearing the cries of orphans who fell, and no one was there to pick them up an comfort them.
For me, the cries of my own children have been like a microscope into my own heart. Yesterday, I took Tristan, my five-year-old, and Kaden, my two-year-old to a dinosaur museum. It was a great time and we had a blast in their children's center. However, on the way out, Kaden was walking and side-swiped a wall with his head. He instantly burst into tears and I ran to pick him up and hold him. He sobbed and held his head with his hand on the spot that he hurt. I kissed his little head and he buried his head into my shoulder.
Immediately, I was overwhelmed. This is how its supposed to be. A dad is supposed to be there to comfort when they're hurt. I mom is supposed to be there to kiss a boo boo. God designed it this way because the parent child relationship is a model of our relationship with our heavenly father. As I comfort Kaden in his hurt, he is learning about our comforter, our heavenly father who rejoices over us with singing.
My head is full of faces, of children, of precious Swazi princess and princesses who are just as precious to God as my own children. These faces are those I met and grew to love in such a short time in Swaziland who have lost their fathers and mothers. This isn't how it is supposed to be. Its not right. Yet it is reality.
Half of my heart is in Swaziland and I know I want to use whatever influence I have to make a difference in these children's lives. We must do something. We can not sit back and pretend these issues don't exist just because they are on the other side of the world. Instead, we must use the resources God has given us to touch the lives of Children.
I know we are looking at specific ways SouledOut and Woodmen Valley Chapel will be touching lives in this area, but I want to challenge anyone reading this to do something. Touch one life. Maybe you can do this through what we'll be doing at SouledOut or Woodmen. If you are from another church, find out what your church is doing, or contact Children's Hope Chest to find out how you can sponsor a child. Whatever your realm of influence, whatever you can do, just do something.
Comments