Tending to him makes me want to tend to them all.
I felt it with the other two….but it wasn’t so adamant feeling.
Watching his face scrunch and his eyebrows furrow and his fist clinch and his eyelids fall – it makes me think of the ones with no one watching. Hearing his cry makes me think of the ones with no one listening. The ones that whimper and writhe and wail – with no ears peeled to hear it. The one’s neglected. The one’s abandoned. The ones left for dead, even.
And it tears at me and brings tears and it causes me to look up – and I don’t know whether I should raise a fist up to the sky in anger and bewilderment at what’s allowed, or whether I should cry out from the depths of me and ask for it to cease and ask to be a part of the solution.
I’m thinking it’s the latter. (But I do both.)
And I’m thinking He is the one that placed it there….the prompting…the sorrow…the desire for justice…yes…even the anger from it all. Because I’m learning that He does prompt us to live and work and act in a way that pours Him out all over. But we, still, choose to be tipped for the pouring or not.
And so what do I do with all this? What does a woman who doesn’t consider herself a kid-person….what does a woman who has fears that stifle her… what does a woman with low academic prowess and limited potential…a history of doubt…and a score of failures do with all this prompting?
After raising her fist and after crying out sorrow – she realizes that she must not simply feel….she must do.
And to know what…she must pray. And she must surrender. And she must hush herself to listen. Because when we pray…when we surrender…when we are hushed – more promptings will come. And more and more – and as they do and as we do…..love rushes out. And minds are changed. And orphanages are constructed. And babies are saved. And infants are fed. And kids are rescued. And Mamas are equipped. And in carrying out all that love, Love is revealed and shared and mimicked. And in the midst of vast despair – a bit of beauty brights it’s way right through.
Oh Lord…. I know what I feel – but what will you have me do? What will you have me do for the ones lost? For the littlest and least? Because I don’t think I can bare this feeling – without diving into some doing.