Main Pic.

Main Pic.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Sometimes it's hard...

There are moments where it’s easy and there are moments where it’s the hardest thing I have ever done.

Sometimes I forget. Sometimes I get so caught up in my life that I forget that they still exist when I am not there. But then it hits me like a train and I remember.

As I read the email my heart dropped. Multiple emotions flooded me as I tried to compose myself. I am reminded of the importance of the moment.

Two more of my beautiful girls are no longer at the village. I read on to find out that my dear friends have succumbed to the culture’s definition of their lives.

I remember tears rolling down my face as I laughed watching Doro try to learn cheerleading.  I remember dancing and singing so loud that the housemothers rushed out to hush us. I remember running across the basketball court as I watched our girls rise up into their incredible potential. I remember praying over them and hopelessly trying to hold back tears as we said “see you soon”.

I should have been there. I should have taken off the semester like I wanted to and I should have been there for them. I should have said more in the moments I had with them. I should have tried harder to speak true identity. I should have fought for them. Oh God protect them.

In a culture that advocates for premature marriage and motherhood, convincing a young girl that she is worth more than a preconceived negotiation is not an easy task.

But I close my eyes and I remember sitting in a room full of young women with eyes glazed over as we spoke the Father’s heart over them. And  I hope that something stuck…

Two more Lord? Two more don’t finish high school. Two more go back to a place that rejected them. Two more that I will probably never see again…

My thoughts have gone back to these two girls so many times over the past few weeks. I can’t shake it. I miss them and I want more for them. I want to see them succeed. I want to go find them and bring them home. I want to be with the other girls who just lost another person in their lives.

Then God whispers…”The story isn’t over. I’m not done yet…and neither are you!”

So I pray and I wage war for my girls. I will stand in the gap even though I am not there physically because I believe in the wonderful plans that God has for my sweet friends. The story is not over!  Join me in praying for the young ladies in Malawi. Pray that they would realize their identity as a daughter of the Most High and that they would stand confident in that even when the culture says otherwise.