I told myself I'd always remember. I prayed that the Lord would keep the burden heavy in my heart. However, here I am nearly a month past my experience in Haiti and I'm a bit disgusted with myself that my heart doesn't ache and break the way it did while I was there. Things are wayyyyy too comfy here in my hometown. I have clean water, air-conditioning and the rare mosquito I encounter doesn't carry any deadly disease. I want to keep that keen edge of compassion, even while I'm so safely insulated here in North America.
However (again), my heart is still more broken than it was and my conscience more tender. I took my three steps forward and the one back, but I'm still ahead of where I was and I guess that's the thing that is important. By the grace of God Haiti and her people will remain in my prayers, and I will remain a supporter of Mission of Hope.
Meanwhile, when I need a reminder, I'll just have a look at these eyes.
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