In The Midst...

In the midst of my tears, and many choice words, I still am reminded of those women. Of the faces and places and spaces of their dirtied feet, their worn and calloused hands, their hungry children.

I look around am beyond frustrated that my new furniture is splitting from water damage, that our carpet is coming undone again, and that this home just feels like a spike collar around my neck...

And somehow, in the midst of my personal despair and self-pity and frustration, I still can't get over that they are such stronger women than I. That they live in forest or huts, that their meager meals offer nothing to spare, that their homes are forsaken.

In the midst of my hurt and anger and wanting a Mama Bear, I remind myself that I was privileged to have one. And the thought of plane tickets to Africa (Kenya, Uganda, Ethiopia) surge through my mind. Like wishing I was called right now to serve in an orphanage instead.

In the midst of my frustration, sorrow, self-pity, and tears... I still, I always, think of them.