Purpose

I've started this post several times before this. It's hard to put into words the feeling of leaving your babies across the world. Well, technically, they were never my babies but some part of me, something inside me says they were. I knew coming home was never going to be easy, its just that no one prepared me for the feeling of never wanting to get out of bed or get out of my pajamas. Or the feeling that the first thing I'm doing as I come home, is waiting to hear when funeral arrangements are taking place for a dear friend of mine. Or the feeling that seeing people when I go home to Portland scares me. How do I explain what I did, what I saw, or what I felt? Sure there are things that I missed like, showers with hot water, sleep, paying in dollars, the water, Pam, stove-tops that worked, the fresh air. But I just miss the hearts involved in my journey. The babies singing and dancing, teaching a baby to sit up on it's own, knowing what they need when they cry, reading the morning devotional to the staff, all the hugs, the laughter, and the love that I felt.

Deep down, I know that it's not about the place I'm in but about my heart. God has given me a heart for people, for babies, for the homeless, for the special needs population, for friends, family, and ultimately for Him. God, may you use this time to fulfill your purposes in my life.

Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. -Colossians 3:17