Advent

We're counting down days door by door,

sweetness behind each one. 

And as we wait and prepare for Christmas, Africa is there. 

I leave on the 26th and, while I have a whole range of emotions, and the pile of things to prepare before I leave- like, "Wait- I need to show Jim how to pay the bills!" -is building, my heart is also building.

I don't know the stories I'll have when I get back, but for now knowing I should be there is more than enough.

And it's strange, this trip- it's a bit like asking someone to please break my heart.  That's what I've prayed and asked for countless times over the past year.  For a long time, I kept my heart at a distance when it came to children without parents.  It's just one of the things I can. not. take.  The problem feels too large, I feel too insignificant, I don't know how to process it.  I knew God wanted me to embrace it, but, I made choices to keep at a distance, to guard my heart.  I'd go to a certain point, and then I'd say, "Not any closer"- and I'd take a step back.

About a year ago, I made a choice to stop closing myself off when a book, article, or photograph seemed like it was too much.  When I felt the urge to turn away, I'd stay and let it seep in.  I'd keep my heart open and raw to it.  It was not easy.  And it only made everything seem even larger, and myself even smaller.  But I finally decided to agree with God that turning away is the last thing I should do.

And now I'm waiting for Zambia.  I'm preparing to get broken. 

And I'm trusting that the will to keep my heart wide open is going to be there waiting for me.