Thoughts from the Airport

Journal Entry 1-17-2013

Trash is burning in the distance
I can smell it through my nose
I wonder how many people are out there starving
As I sit here staring at my toes
I can't help but wonder if the girl in my Sunday School class will ever really dance
And if that little boy on the side of the road will ever have a chance
I wonder how many of my neighbors are hungry tonight
And if the warriors in the North are dying from the fights
And there is only so much wondering I can do
But I also know that there is hope
Because the God that hold me in HIS hands
Hold all of them there too
And though I wonder if they will ever rise above
I know in my heart they are covered by HIS love
So in fact I don't really need to wonder
But just trust and know that God will hold and be with them
Over, in, and under.

I never thought I would be sitting in an airport, let alone be on my way home right now. I sit here look at God asking what is next? Did I make the right decision leaving the field early? I feel at peace about it and I know it is time now to take a good hard look at my life and ask God what He expects of me and what He has planned for me. To WAIT on Him and not jump into the water to fast. But listen to His voice and trust His guidance and maybe instead of sinking, just maybe I will walk on the water beside Him. It's all I can hope for.

As I watch people wander in the airport, I wonder if any of them are thinking of the things they left behind. like Hollo, the little girl I cradled in my arms, who was covered in ringworm and sores. or Susie, the young 8 year old who cannot communicate well, will she ever learn to interact with people? Or Justin, will he and his mother ever heal from the loss of his father to AIDS and the 4 other children he left behind. Or Mama Susanna, will her hope ever be restored or will she always live in a hopeless state? Mama Ruth, who always called me her daughter, even though she was old enough to be my great grandmother, and so closed to death... is she still alive? and if not who will take care of her grandchildren who have already faced the death of both parents and siblings to AIDS? What about Arhba, will she ever overcome her disease and learn how to talk, write, and read? Or Abudo's son, will his face and body heal after being hit by that piki? Or all the young girls who have to face a knife or thorn in order to become a women. The stories and their faces are engraved on my heart and in my mind.

They are no longer a random face I see on a TV commercial or a story I read about in a book. They are real. I've sat next to them, held them in my arms and loved them. They are a part of me. And I wonder about all these wanderers in the airport, what are they leaving behind. Are they leaving peaces of their heart like me? I don't know for sure, but I do know the one things I have that many here don't. That even though I am leaving, I have faith and know there will always be Someone there taking care of all of them. And I praise Jesus for that.




Rummaging through my thoughts,




 HIS and yours,

   Cami