Yes, I'm tired; but, it's a content tired - the tired that knows I put in a good day. The connecting with widowed mamas and seeing them engage in ministry. The sweet closing of my eyes and seeing interns from stateside colleges and universities embrace the challenge of loving the unlovable. Knowing the peaceful certainty that God is moving in the miracle realm - not the miracles that happen in seconds, but the miracles God preforms over lifetimes - interconnecting passions, destinies with hopes that don't disappoint. Just speaking of these things makes me want to curl up under my mosquito net and slip into gentle thoughts of mercy and graceful justice, remembering daily experiences of wounded ones being restored.
I will never tire of the joys of hugging children rescued from pit latrines and lonely tea fields. Imagine watching the needs of those neglected - silent with crippled limbs and empty days - enjoy books and colors so they can learn about God's great glories of friendship and belonging. Helping widowed mamas know their ability to raise their children. Sharing with Kenyan churches about missions and adoption. These things inspire me to know that even in my weariness, Jesus carries me. All I am, all I do belongs to Him.
I think I haven't written because I've come to a place where words don't work. I can't find the way to bring you here on paper; so, I leave the keyboard quiet and embrace the work God set before me. I'm grateful for that honor, that privilege. Thank you, Dear Ones, for helping us love the least of these.
hugs from the haugers Ooo0