Scared

Scared to go back to the United States. That is how I’m feeling right now, to be quite honest. We’ve experienced so much, cried on several occasions, heard the stories of these orphans we live with, seen many types of injustice, and yet now . . . how now do we live? How do we raise our children to be thankful for what they have in America, the land of plenty? Will they remember sitting on the concrete floor with these little guys and being happy with just rice and dahl?

How do we cry out for those who cannot cry out for themselves? How do we live on less so we can give more in America, the land of luxury? How do we begin to say “enough” and not just buy and buy and consume and consume? How do we remember others and not just think of ourselves?

I remember the song we heard before we came. The words by Sara Groves are so appropriate for me now:

I saw what I saw and I can't forget it
I heard what I heard and I can't go back
I know what I know and I can't deny it

Something on the road, cut me to the soul

Your pain has changed me
your dream inspires
your face a memory
your hope a fire
your courage asks me what I'm afraid of
and what I know of love

In The Return of the King, Frodo asks, “How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back? And then he explains, “There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep…they have taken hold.”

God, would You do a miracle for our family? Would You cause us to remember what we have seen and heard and then go and do something about it? Would You prick our hearts to be sensitive to the poor, the suffering and those around us? With time, it always seems like our pain is dulled and the sting loses it’s hurt. Would You (as Melissa Moore put it), “keep the emotional wounds that were carved during the past few weeks from healing?”

May time not have it’s way with us . . . just this once.