Africa, and those left behind

The post in italics below is not mine.
I wish I could put my thoughts into words like the author of this blog.
But, I can relate,
I can understand.

Africa will always be a part of me.
It's not just a place we visited.
It's not just my son's homeland.
It's a new part of me.

The kids we met there at Layla house were not just statistics, or names, or even faces.
They were real. kids.
Someone's kids.

There are a few who will forever have my heart.
I wish I could share their pictures with you.
Because they are precious.
Their hands were warm, around mine,
their foreheads soft under my lips.

I pray for these kids every single day.
Not a day goes by that we don't pray for and think about those we left behind.

And although it has broken: a piece of my heart,
I am glad.
Because it has moved to me to action.
It has inspired me to be a better person,
to work harder,
to love deeper.

From the blog glitter, small world:

a lot of people who go to the continent of africa come back and say the same thing- once you've been there, you never fully leave. i can attest that this is so true. once you've seen it, you can't be rid of it.

you can't let it go.

you can never be out of africa.

i have learned a lot about myself. africa has taught me a lot about myself.

i know my heart will never be completely full - that it will never be completely whole - and i'm so thankful for this empty piece of me, because i can't deny it, and it forces me to action. it forces me to action because i cannot forget what i have seen.

i can't shake those sad eyes, those abandoned faces. i can still feel those hot little bodies against mine.

i know who i am now. who i've become. i will always have two homes. africa is in my heart. it's in my feet and in my blood.

there are over 42 million orphans in africa. did you know?

i didn't. not for a while.

and when i learned the statistic, i still didn't know. i didn't really know.

it was a number. a four. a two. and a [million] that i couldn't comprehend.

and i think that maybe that is how we all are, accidentally.

because numbers are only numbers. they can only be numbers... until they become faces.

and then you learn the names of those faces.

and then those numbers are babies.

real babies with tiny fingers and tiny toes and little noses and mouths.

and pretty soon those babies have stories. 42 million stories.

i'm usually not really one to preach, but sometimes it's good to remind people.

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this...

we could all fill it in-

is this...

[to go to church]

[to read our Bibles]

[to volunteer]

[to be good people]

but what did Christ actually command? what does He command?

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress..."

and they are. they are in distress.

for a while six months in south africa seemed like a long time. a little more time than i'm used to.

but i know in my heart that i won't be back there for a while. maybe a long time.

and it makes me feel a little homesick already.

it makes me a little heartsick.

heartbroken.

and hopeful.

hopeful that i will carry those stories inside.

hopeful that i will be strong enough to tell them.

and hopeful that when i get home the Lord will allow my heart to be still and my feet to be planted in one place. and that he will use my stories to change hearts.

because i know when hearts are changed then people are moved.

and when people are moved then they are spurred on to action.

and when we take action we can change the world

and give those babies families and homes and love.

i can't wait until it is my turn to bring one home.

because 42 million is just a number until it has a face.

and a name.

and a story.