Coming down from a mountain top (literally and figuratively) has proved harder than I expected this month. If you read any of my past blogs you will quickly realize I had my favorite month yet on the race. I've had many moments on the race that I've felt more alive than ever before but I experienced an entire month of feeling fully alive.
Coming away from that is hard.
I'm tired this month.
I miss El Shaddai.
My heart longs to be rocking my babies to sleep.
Not a day goes by I don't think about Chief and Jaden.
When the van door closed that day we left El Shaddai with tears pouring down my cheeks, I knew Jesus awoke a deep part of my soul there. Even as I write this I fight away the lump in my throat but it seems pointless.
This really difficult reality of the race. We have to close doors and open new ones month after month. It sucks if I'm being honest. Worth it. Just really hard some months.
But through it all, as hard as it is, I know what I tasted last month was a sweet gift from the God who loves me even more than I love those African babies. As bad as I wanted to ditch my belongings and take one or two babies home, I put my trust and hope in the fact that they are happy and well taken care of. That Jesus has his anointed hand over that mountain top and he will protect his children. He will comfort me as only a Father can. And for every longing beat of my heart, a grateful beat is followed quickly behind.
