Lord Jesus

The day is done, records are written, junior owies kissed all better, fights reconciled and forgiveness hugs given, bodies and bums all clean, little ones hugged, kissed and told they are loved and all are asleep...finally.

I sigh, take off the glasses that have shielded my tired hurting leaky sore eyes, my mind replays the day, once its all said and done, it seems there's no reason for the aches in my back or the drag of my eyes. I love them so much, so shouldn't it be easy to care for them? Shouldn't it be a joy? But then I think, it is a joy. It is a joy. It always has been. Then I hear him whisper, 'If it is a joy... then why are you so tired???? If it is a joy... then why on earth would you have ever even thought of losing your patience the way you did tonight....24398 different times???? If it is a joy.... you'd be a better momma to them, temporary or not...' I climb up into my top-bunk bed and I know as I climb and crawl... the LORD is not the only on that whispers.

"Lord Jesus" is my only utterance.

After uttering that precious names a few times, I'm reminded of another memory from today. Sitting with one of my new friends, Arnel, talking about how crazy it seems to get sometimes and how sometimes I feel like I just can't do it. He reminds my gently, 'Yes it is hard... but... what else? Where would these children be without Ate C and those here, like you, that love and work hard to take care of them? What would happend to them if not for this place? What would become of them then?'

And as I'm thinking and watching each child sit and eat their lunch, all being goofy, one trying to bicker with another, my thoughts become words, "That one, on the end, he wouldn't have lived, the infestation of worms combined with the 3rd degree malnutrition would have killed him. That one... well even the doctors said he wouldn't live or ever walk.. and he walked to lunch happy as could be today, that little one.. the TB would have taken her life" my thoughts continue in my head 'that one would have continued to be beaten so severely, eventually it would have killed him...'

"See..", Arnell's one words response means more than he knows.

There are days when my prayers... are only utterances. They are not long and elegant, not filled with pretty pauses but instead filled with gasps for breaths and utterance of the only hope I know "Lord Jesus, Lord Jesus, Lord Jesus.' There are hundreds of requests that I need to lay before the King, and I unload them... 'Lord Jesus.' My mind cannot be still or coherent enough to make the actual words, instead I offer the 'highlight reel' of my reality that is running through my mind, I let it go, with each exhale, with each release of my lungs. 'Lord Jesus, You see.' I release the pain, 'You feel.' I give away my insecurities, my fears, my dreams. I hand over my heart as I untangle my own fingers from the death grip they have on my biggest hopes, my deepest fear, my life goal, I give it to Him who knows already. Lord Jesus, who feels. Lord Jesus who sees. Lord Jesus who knows so much better than I do.

Oh Lord Jesus.

That's all I can utter.