I stare out at the Indian ocean, looking at Table Mountain in the distance. Switchfoot’s “This is Home,” is on repeat on my i-pod. I can’t help let a few tears more fall. Leaving Swaziland is tough. The images, the feelings, the smells all replay in my mind. I look at the pictures and feel like it’s been a lifetime since I left not a few days. My time in Swazi was more then I could have asked for, truly, I’m blessed.
(This girl holding her brother or sister is only six years old.)
I’ve debated sharing this blog. It’s personal, very, very personal. A desperate conversation between God and me. I like to write the stories of outsiders through my lens; this personal type of blog is harder to post. I worry what people reading will think. I’m scared that those who don’t share my faith might think I’m fanatical, and I’m scared that those who do will be judgmental.
Yesterday, through a lot of tears, I wrote in my Journal…
“Lord, I don’t get it! I watch the sparrows and I know that you care for them. I have to trust that you will care for me and you will care for the kids in Nsoko. God, what do I do, knowing that almost 2/3rds of the children there have H.I.V? What kind of perspective do you want my life in? I spend way too much energy worrying about who likes me, who doesn’t, if I will have enough money raising support. I think if nothing else I’ve realized my frailty on this trip. I’ve been reminded of my tendency to be self-focused.
(One of the boys waiting for food in Nsoko)
“I’m living in the margin, where what’s in my heart with Nsoko and Expedition of Hope is way to big for me. I’m afraid! I’m scared that I’ll fall flat on my face. I’m scared I’ll manage to mess up what’s been entrusted to me. God, what I hear you saying is, “So what if you fall on your face, if you do, I’ll lift you up. It’s better to fall on your face going for it then to just sit there.”
(Karen Barnes with one of the girls at the community center. On the back her shirt said “Stop Child Trafficking.”)
“Rough skin and calluses, God I want rough skin and calluses for you. I don’t want to get done having eased through life. I want to get done with a body I’ve used, arms that have held orphan babies, fed the hungry, hands that have held the hands of the dying, rubbed the backs of the sick, braded the hair of those abandoned. God I want feet that hurt from walking, traveling to find the one lost. As I age I want laugh lines, I want to be as free with tears as I am with joy, knowing both are from you! I want a body that’s strong from use, not hours spent at a gym.
“God I want all things in their proper place, food, drink, relationships, mission, rest intimacy, family. I want you as Lord over them all!
“Morgan, I am your inheritance, not money, not a name, not a project, I’m it. I will give you what you need. I will shelter you. I will hold you, break you more and love you back together.
“God, if I’m messed up when I get back, let me be messed up in you.”
(With a extremely malnourished little girl at a new Care Point we visited, Photo by Katie Rowland www.katierowland.theworldrace.org)
