Friday, July 26, 2013

The ones that haunt my dreams

There are children dying every day. Babies that need to be rescued. Innocents that don't even know to fight for themselves. Beautiful babies who need a mother to love and teach them. 

I want to be that mother. I want to hold their hands, cradle their faces, and bring them into better lives. I want to sing them to sleep, read them stories, kiss their heads. I want to show them they are worth more than the situations they were born into. 

My heart yearns to help the precious people who can't help themselves. To intercede, to defend, to protect. This feels like a good thing. Is it not a noble cause? A grand dream? It's good and true and holy. God commanded, one could even argue. Yet I find the paths of my life taking me farther and farther away from it. I wonder if I will ever see my dreams. Everyday children die and i can't help but think that I could stop it. Even if it was just for one, I could stop it. 

The faces of broken children, battered, starving, shunned, shattered; these are the faces that haunt me . I see them in my dreams. I see Cleo in Albania,  smiling up at me, and running down the church hall to give me hugs and kisses. I see the bruises on his face from his stepdad, I see pain no child should have to go through. I see tiny Roma kids begging on the streets for their parents. I see babies sleeping on torn and tattered blankets on the street corner. I see starving kids with distended bellies and flies on their hair waving from trees. I see kids who I've never met, but I know their faces. I know their eyes. I see them in my dreams. 

I want to transform those faces. To teach them joy. Show them love. Give them hope. What if I never get to? Can I live with these faces for the rest of my life of God never lets me walk down that path? 

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