"... we began our journey from the border ... the water had risen so high that the driver could not tell if he was driving on the road or not. We engaged two boys who would swim ahead of the truck and let us know the depth of the water. In some places the water would be all the way to their necks. We couldn’t stop as we never knew when it would stop raining ..." —Eugenio, guest writer
Life That Matters
This morning, before my 9:30 appointment for a haircut, I drove out to my son's house to borrow his wheelbarrow and pick up my husband's portable workbench. My daughter arrived just ahead of me. She and my daughter-in-law are painting the living room.
The journey was uneventful. We encountered no unexpected charges. There were no roadblocks. I did not fear for my life, nor the life of my daughter. Blue skies accompanied us, but even when it rains the paved county road is fully navigable. In the worst winter storms, it is plowed and sanded.
I cannot wrap my mind around a place where traveling 223 miles takes 6 hours of hard driving, where bandits strike at dawn and children swim in front of moving trucks.
Yet, my heart knows this place. I see this war-torn land through the eyes of my friend Kimberly, a sassy red-head, a woman of frailty and strength, a woman who cares for orphans in Sudan.
Her heart is with the children. The 600 orphans in Christ-centered indigenously directed care centers. The tens of thousands* living and starving in the bush. Her heart is on two continents. She has taken mine as well.
A Heart Not Big Enough
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
* Estimated 1 million orphans in Sudan today. Source