It is a mixture of (1) yearning for a purpose in my personal ministry and
(2) the Lord laying Uganda on my heart. (3) Desiring their kind of relationship in the middle of people glorifying busy. It hurts. It bleeds.
Who would have thought that in the world of comfort that I live in I would yearn for this?
He led me
To her...
And to them all...
So, how can I resist? If this is my burden, why am I in Kansas?
He has a reason... and I shall explore what that reason is.
I am not old enough to consider them my spiritual children persay...
but how else can I discern this love, LORD? I. miss. them. Yet,
I was with them for half an hour. They are in Your hands, God, I know that, but will they ever know, too?
I don't know what You are doing in me. I love it and hate it all at the same time.
Lord, in these last few days you have subtly laid adoption on my heart... Why?
I am not even considered raised myself. Sometimes, I feel like a little girl all over again at Awana with my baby doll in her stroller telling my leader that I wanted to be a Mommy when I grew up. Dreaming about it. I do want to still, even more than then, but in these several years the stroller looks more like the babe tied to my back and with a beautiful different color of skin. Whether that is on the streets of the USA or of Uganda when I am carrying that baby if the Lord wills... I am homesick for them... I want to be a Mommy.
When I can do nothing but pray {which is what I need to embrace fully}... Why does my heart
seem to be dry heaving for him? {The little boy who touched my soul and never smirked a smile.}
And, at the very same time be so joyful over this man's life that I am absolutely beside myself.
Abba Father, I could go on until the sun came up and beyond about what I think is in my future. I could go on about what happened. You hold the key to my heart. You know these dreams, these memories, these groanful prayers. No one can make my life plans. Only You can put them on YOUR calendar and tell me when and where to show up. No one can take this burden away from me, because You gave it to me. Show me how to use it. I can't hug on that little girl. I can't shake their hands. I can't sing with them on Sunday morning. All of these "I can't" lead to the fact that you can. You can deliver them. You can minister to them. You can show them the way. You can give them a family. You can restore their lost innocence. I am homesick, Jesus, and I don't know what to do.
So, I am putting it before your thrown with a lump in my throat, a spring in my tired step, and a burden so brilliantly heavy and a yoke so easy I can't explain.
What can I say? What can I do? But offer this heart, O God, completely to You.
From the keyboard of a Peculiar Treasure,
Emilee.
“All they asked was that we should continue to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do.” --Galations 2:10