During our little make shift church service in the back-yard of a fellow missionary I realized that my anger is starting to own me just a little bit and that I need to be careful not to allow that.
The fact is, we have seen the very worst of humanity and the very best of humanity in the last 19 days.
I have seen both horrible injustice and beautiful, merciful love. I have seen greed and selfless, sacrificial giving. I have felt gripped by fear and despair and I have felt totally protected with a peace that passes understanding. I have been hopeless and I have been hopeful. There have been victories and defeats.
The range of emotions is exhausting and exhilarating -- but mostly exhausting.
The weirdest thing is, I don't believe we have even begun to really feel things. We're leaving here for a time later this week. While I am so anxious to hug my children and reunite our family, I am dreading the moment that we really begin to deeply feel these things. I am guessing that removing ourselves from the intensity of it will allow for that.
We need the space to figure out the future and hear from God. This is our "home" and we really cannot imagine "home" anywhere else right now. The uncertainty can be overwhelming, but we're trying to remember that He has been faithful to give us answers in plenty of other uncertain situations.
Well, our day of rest has come to a peaceful end ... Troy and Greg managed to play tonight without assaulting us with bad John Denver songs. Which is nice.
Monday will start with a run with Beth and then begins week three of hospital/clinic, we're hoping to see a decline in untreated/new cases and praying for favor with other hospitals for the more serious situations.
"A Thousand Things"
You’re gonna cry yourself to sleep You’re gonna soak the pillow for many weeks You’re gonna cry Why? Why me? But in spite of the ache that doesn’t go away You’ll be sharing your story one rainy day And at the next table somebody catches your words He hears a truth that he’s never heard He takes it back to the marriage he’d given up on Hands it down to his daughter who writes it into song You didn’t know A thousand things are happening in this one thing Like a thousand fields nourished by a single drop of rain So honey, wrap yourself in promise while you wait the morning light A thousand things are happening tonight You’re gonna cry yourself to sleep ‘cause for the moment all that you can see Is what you’ve lost, lost Why me? But in the midst of the most exquisite pain you’re drawn into a peace that you cannot explain and the praises you sing of a sovereign God reach the girl whose last hope is gone she never thought there was purpose in anything here now the seed has been planted and it’s taking root there You didn’t know A thousand things are happening tonight You’re gonna cry yourself to sleep A thousand miracles you’ll have to wait and see