Look at these precious faces. Look deep into their eyes. They are just babies really - still so young in years but as you can see their eyes reflect a depth that usually comes with age, with life experience, with pain. These children know pain...every single one of them.
They know very well the pain of hunger,
the pain of loss, the pain of abuse.
Safety for them means making it through a night where their family has not been pillaged in the dark of night. Home really means shelter: a rusty metal roof over a one room shanty with no running water or electricity.
Food is sometimes, if fortunate enough, the possibility of a meal once a day. What is a meal? Maybe - rice and beans. It can also mean a cup of chai (tea). They are hungry. In most cases (as graphic as this is) the worms in their little tummies get the majority of the nourishment they consume.
Food is sometimes, if fortunate enough, the possibility of a meal once a day. What is a meal? Maybe - rice and beans. It can also mean a cup of chai (tea). They are hungry. In most cases (as graphic as this is) the worms in their little tummies get the majority of the nourishment they consume.
I have had the honor of wrapping my arms around these sweet children. I still cannot believe God has given me the opportunity to be in their presence and experience the joy they have despite circumstance. They may or may not remember me...but I...
I REMEMBER them!
As I am preparing to spend a day with my family rejoicing over God's bounty He has given us:
a land of opportunity
a family of LOVE, a Safe HOME,
Freedom of Religion, and so much more..
I simply cannot be blind to what I have witnessed, to what my hands have touched. My heart aches for them. Don't get me wrong - I am not ungrateful. I appreciate and love most things about the land God planted me on - I am equally as humbled wondering why me? Why was I born in the US where we have an abundance of resources and help? Why God do these children suffer so? How can I appreciate what I have been given knowing I did not earn it, when these children work so very hard for so little reward.
Some things just can't be answered this side of heaven. I know deep in my heart I can totally TRUST my ABBA Father. He knows ALL - and my limited vision is short sighted the majority of the time. When the weight of their reality is settling heavily on my heart & mind I will continue to cling to him. I am often reminded when my heart breaks for what breaks His, well... it is then that He is pleased with me.
So as spoiled as I will feel sitting down at a feast at our Thanksgiving Table, as undeserving as I honestly am to be placed in the land of opportunity - I will take all of that and see what God can do with it. He is in the business of restoring the ugly into the B E A U T I F U L. He, no doubt, will use my internal chaos and refine it into something pure. For that I am...
TRULY THANKFUL.
Isaiah 61:1-7 The Message
1-7 The Spirit of God, the Master, is on me
because God anointed me.
He sent me to preach good news to the poor,
heal the heartbroken,
Announce freedom to all captives,
pardon all prisoners.
God sent me to announce the year of his grace—
a celebration of God’s destruction of our enemies—
and to comfort all who mourn,
To care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion,
give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes,
Messages of joy instead of news of doom,
a praising heart instead of a languid spirit.
Rename them “Oaks of Righteousness”
planted by God to display his glory.
They’ll rebuild the old ruins,
raise a new city out of the wreckage.
They’ll start over on the ruined cities,
take the rubble left behind and make it new.
You’ll hire outsiders to herd your flocks
and foreigners to work your fields,
But you’ll have the title “Priests of God,”
honored as ministers of our God.
You’ll feast on the bounty of nations,
you’ll bask in their glory.
Because you got a double dose of trouble
and more than your share of contempt,
Your inheritance in the land will be doubled
and your joy go on forever.
because God anointed me.
He sent me to preach good news to the poor,
heal the heartbroken,
Announce freedom to all captives,
pardon all prisoners.
God sent me to announce the year of his grace—
a celebration of God’s destruction of our enemies—
and to comfort all who mourn,
To care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion,
give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes,
Messages of joy instead of news of doom,
a praising heart instead of a languid spirit.
Rename them “Oaks of Righteousness”
planted by God to display his glory.
They’ll rebuild the old ruins,
raise a new city out of the wreckage.
They’ll start over on the ruined cities,
take the rubble left behind and make it new.
You’ll hire outsiders to herd your flocks
and foreigners to work your fields,
But you’ll have the title “Priests of God,”
honored as ministers of our God.
You’ll feast on the bounty of nations,
you’ll bask in their glory.
Because you got a double dose of trouble
and more than your share of contempt,
Your inheritance in the land will be doubled
and your joy go on forever.
-Simply SUBLIME
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