Feeling and Doing

Tending to him makes me want to tend to them all.

I felt it with the other two....but it wasn't so adamant feeling.

Watching his face scrunch and his eyebrows furrow and his fist clinch and his eyelids fall - it makes me think of the ones with no one watching. Hearing his cry makes me think of the ones with no one listening. The ones that whimper and writhe and wail - with no ears peeled to hear it. The one's neglected. The one's abandoned. The ones left for dead, even.

And it tears at me and brings tears and it causes me to look up - and I don't know whether I should raise a fist up to the sky in anger and bewilderment at what's allowed, or whether I should cry out from the depths of me and ask for it to cease and ask to be a part of the solution.

I'm thinking it's the latter. (But I do both.)

And I'm thinking He is the one that placed it there....the prompting...the sorrow...the desire for justice...yes...even the anger from it all. Because I'm learning that He does prompt us to live and work and act in a way that pours Him out all over. But we, still, choose to be tipped for the pouring or not.

And so what do I do with all this? What does a woman who doesn't consider herself a kid-person....what does a woman who has fears that stifle her... what does a woman with low academic prowess and limited potential...a history of doubt...and a score of failures do with all this prompting?

After raising her fist and after crying out sorrow - she realizes that she must not simply feel....she must do.

And to know what...she must pray. And she must surrender. And she must hush herself to listen. Because when we pray...when we surrender...when we are hushed - more promptings will come. And more and more - and as they do and as we do.....love rushes out. And minds are changed. And orphanages are constructed. And babies are saved. And infants are fed. And kids are rescued. And Mamas are equipped. And in carrying out all that love, Love is revealed and shared and mimicked. And in the midst of vast despair - a bit of beauty brights it's way right through.
Oh Lord.... I know what I feel - but what will you have me do? What will you have me do for the ones lost? For the littlest and least? Because I don't think I can bare this feeling - without diving into some doing.

Learn to do good;

Seek justice,

Rebuke the oppressor;

Defend the fatherless,

Plead for the widow.

- Isaiah 1:17

Learn. Seek. Rebuke. Defend. Plead.....Those aren't feelings, friends - they're actions.

Bypass my fears, Father and rid me of the lazy complacency and ignorance and selfishness- and get me geared up for whatever or whomever or whenever...You call. And in the meantime - as I tend to my trio - don't let the feeling wane. Because I know there is some doing to be done.

Lots of it, actually.

Pertinent Links:

Compassion International

Lost Orphans International

Operation World

Samaritan's Purse

World Vision

Fresh Lessons

My belly is empty....but my arms are full :)

The second boy....the third baby.... he has arrived.

And so has his mother. Each birth - is not only an arrival of a new life....but an arrival of a new woman.

With each fresh blond head (yes, another blond!) one more layer of selfishness begins to peal away. One more shelf of self-denial is wrought. One more faith layer is laid upon the others. One more hope, dream, prayer - fulfilled.

This gift....this boy...that robs me deeper of selfishness and egocentrism and doubt and negativity - he's a lesson for me. As I study his serious face, his lanky toes, his softness - I know that his fashioning was not by mistake. And while it's only a part of his purpose, I'm certain - This little new one comes to me to teach me a thing or two. And it pleases Him to do it this way.

The first blonds - they made me realize it all. Five and half years of lessons thus far in patience. In humility. In pride. In love. In life. And the lessons continue.

And the lessons can be rough. And the tests that come from my two....now, my three.... oh, they can be difficult. And I fail many of them. And I barely pass a few - (only on the re-takes) - but through them all....I learn.

So this new adventure that emerged and filled his lungs with air for the first time three days ago - He's sleeping in his crib now. And as I look in on his fresh face - and as I quiet the boistrous voices of his siblings - I'm tired and beat up and anxious and sleepy and overwhelmed and wrung out - of course. But I'm thankful. I have joy. I'm filled with expectation. And happy hope. And shear gratefulness for the sweet love...for the honest laughter....and even for the teaching that will take place - ....through my trio.

Let the fresh lessons begin....