2.24.11

Hello! I know I haven't written in months and I apologize. With all my classes, church activities, my family relocating and this upcoming Africa trip, I have been quite busy! Let me assure you that things are going well, though we're still waiting on God to show up in a few areas over here.

There's not much to update you about for this trip, unfortunately! They still have not officially released the dates and details, though I'm told they will soon and I will be launching my first fundraisers soon after. So until then, my friend, Alyssa (who is going with me) and I will be going to get our passports and our shots (we hope to be together during this for moral - and perhaps physical - support since we're a couple of babies).

Alyssa, in fact, just came over recently and we talked until four in the morning about our excitement for this trip and where God is calling us. In case you don't know her, this girl is completely filled with passion and drive for missions (I highly encourage a visit to her blog). It is rare for me to find someone who can even understand my love for missions, much less exceed it. Every time we get done talking, I realize more and more how strong the calling is on my life.

I understand my passion is a good thing and a gift from God. But it is also quite a burden to have such a deep love for people whom I've never met. Yes, it's a biblical principal, but few understand the true weight of it. I love people who are half a world away. I miss them. I feel like a part of me is missing and it's somewhere over there. And I've never even met them! Sometimes I get so emotional about it because they are there and I'm stuck here for now, unable to see them or get to them.

There is yet another reason why this love is such a weight on me. It's because though I have never been, I've seen the need there. I've seen the poverty; I've seen the brokenness and dispair in the eyes of a mother, holding her crying, starving child; I've seen the anger in the eyes of a child who does not understand why he has lost everything. I've seen the pain, the ugliness, and the need for love and hope. And now that I've seen it, I cannot turn away. How could I? Now that I know the need, I must respond to it. I'm responsible, I'm obligated to do whatever I can to fulfill it. Now that I've seen, I can no longer turn my back and when God asks me what I did about the brokenness around me, I can no longer have the excuse of not knowing. It's a burden, but it's a righteous burden.

However, there is another side; another side that makes my heart like a kite. Yes, I've seen the gravity of this situation. But there's something else I've seen. I've seen the people of God pouring out all the love in their hearts onto the mother whose children are starving. I've seen the inexplicably joyful smiles on the face of the orphan who has heard "I love you" for the first time. I've seen the profound hope in the eyes of a child who has experienced God for the first time ever. Now that I've seen these things, I cannot turn away. How could I? How could I ever think of missing the beautiful face of a child who's never known a mother figure? How could I miss the opportunity to pour out all my love and smother kisses all over the face of that child who's holding a rather large piece of my heart?

Love is messy. Love is complicated. But love is essential. And love brings hope.