I Met Some girls this Summer...

My kids are at school today. Their backpacks were packed with finished homework, fresh pencils,and full lunchboxes. They were dropped off at schools with full libraries, computers, science labs, and athletic equipment. They have access to music and art and foreign language instruction. They have teachers with Master's Degrees and PhD's. They will be well educated and will benefit from that education for the rest of their lives.

I met some girls this summer...they were lovely girls. They giggled together, told secrets, loved to dance and wanted to fix their hair. I am thinking about those girls right now.They certainly have no backpacks or school supplies. They have no school to go to or teachers to teach them. They are on a path to being uneducated and they will be impacted by that for the rest of their lives.

These girls were in Zambia. I spent 2 weeks there and had the opportunity to pour my life into their lives. All of them have been impacted by poverty and AIDS. Some have been abused and neglected. All of them understand hunger and death. When I heard their stories my heart broke. The adults in their lives have let them down in the most basic ways. Day by day as I fell more in love with my girls I became more and more angry with their caregivers. There is no excuse for beating a child. There is no excuse for allowing a 6 year old to beg in the streets late at night.

I knew when I went that I would love my girls. I knew that God would imprint each of them on my heart. What I didn't expect was what happened to me after I had the opportunity to walk with my girls through their neighborhood. Here I saw the caregivers who were often unkind. I was able to see their lives. I was able to see that they had once been young girls like the ones I was with, but no one had cared to educate them. No one had cared to share Jesus with them. No one had prayed for them and cried out for them and advocated for them.

I wanted to be angry and indignant when suddenly I felt ashamed. The pain and hopelessness was real. I could see it. I could feel it. I could touch it. My girls really have no way of knowing there is hope for a different way of life. Bur I know, and I cannot turn my head. I believe that God has a plan for Cynthia, Rachel, Grace, Florence, Margaret, Abigail. Ireen, Sarah, Carol, Helen, Mary, Nora, Precious, Anna, Melinda, Irene and Charity. I believe he is holding their precious lives in His hands. I will never be the same as a result of meeting them, and I will forever be thankful that I was given the responsibility of being His hands for my girls. Oh how I pray that these hands will steward that responsibility well.