Desperately Seeking...

There’s a blog I follow regularly called A Holy Experience by Ann Vosskamp. Everytime I read it, I come away from it enriched; blessed; humbled; thirsting for more.






Reading about Ann’s recent trip to Guatemala has left my soul haunted. (Click here to read it yourself.)

I look at my children and my heart aches with thanksgiving that they do not suffer in poverty as so many in the world do. My heart yearns for them to understand just how truly blessed they are – oh my goodness, BEYOND blessed!

And my heart is torn apart for those that do suffer. For those that do not know the feel of a warm shower every day; the comfort of air conditioning; the feeling of a full stomach with no worry of when the next meal will come. Their own room, a tv, a computer, a cell phone…school, friends, laughter, learning.

I feel inadequate to deal with all the suffering I see, hear about, and read about on a daily basis.

The homeless.

  The modern-day slave.








The battered women and children. 

The utterly poverty stricken. 














My head spins in so many directions, wanting to help each and every one in some tangible way. And yet I know I can’t.

And I know I’m not meant to. My Father knows my heart; He has placed in me a gift and much to my frustration sometimes, it is not the gift I *wish* to have. I know that sounds ungrateful, but it’s not meant that way…I just wish sometimes that my gift was to be able to do the bigger things…but no…He has placed others in those roles. My role is more behind-the-scenes, here-at-home. And it’s no smaller than any other role, but sometimes it feels that way.

So for all those I can’t seem to reach, I offer prayer.

I do what I can to remain aware and to make others aware; to remain compassionate; to show God’s love in little ways.

I still wonder if it’s enough.

I desperately seek the answers.