All I Know To Do

I had a wonderful weekend with wonderful friends.  Old roommates got together in Auburn for a baby shower and then lunch at Big Blue.  We so missed the ones that couldn't be there!  We covered some major ground - caught up on kids, husbands, jobs, school, everything!; laughed about embarrassing college moments (don't worry, I won't share!); offered what little advise we could to the mother-to-be.  But I have to say the one thing that keeps playing over and over in my mind is our conversation at Big Blue.  For whatever reason, we started talking about human trafficking.  I know, right?  Not your typical pleasant lunch conversation!

I shared with the girls about Flower Patch Farm Girl, this post in particular.  Please read it.

She puts things in such perspective. I thought about the 4 potatoes I threw away yesterday b/c they felt a little "squishy". And as I did, I thought about little stomachs who would have given anything for what I deemed "trash". The helplessness I feel makes me ache with sadness.

I read over her post for the umpteenth time and clicked on the human trafficking link. I found this:



And then I bought one little bracelet.  I wanted to buy a million.  I wanted to run out, buy a lottery ticket and pray to win.  Just so I could buy a million bracelets or just so I could send a million potatoes to desperate mothers frantically wondering how to feed their children..

Her post reminds me of how "cushy" my life is. It's so "cushy" in fact, that I'm a little ashamed by it... I'm embarrassed about the things that I get embarrassed by.  Does that make sense?  My 50 year old yellow kitchen counter tops and matching harvest gold oven, or the same shoes I seem to wear to church every Sunday, or the extra around my middle because food is always accessible. 

I'm embarrassed and disgusted.

I'm sad and angry.

I'm humbled and guilt-stricken.

I want to see things with new eyes.  Everything with new eyes.

As I bathed my sweet boy last night, I thought about the lavender body wash, advertised to "soothe baby".  I prayed for children who needed food to soothe their aching bellies.  I watched the clear, clean warm water flow in an instant and prayed for the ones that had only filthy, impure water to drink.  I looked at the never-ending mound of laundry and prayed for the ones who had nothing to wear.  I rested comfortably next to a man who I know loves me more than himself; and I prayed for the women and children who are abused every day by someone they "love".

I don't know what else to do, so I'll pray.

I'll pray for the young girls and women that are being yanked away from everything they know and taken into a world where they're abused, molested, beaten.  I'll even pray for their abusers, that God will miraculously change their hearts.  I'll pray for the hungry, sick children.  I'll pray for their grief-stricken mothers.  I'll pray for the souls braver than me, more faithful than me that are there (wherever "there" is), helping with their own two hands.

I'll pray for one innocent girl.

I'll pray that you will pray with me.

I'll pray, because that's all I know to do.

For more info:
FlowerPatchFarmGirl
Tiny Hands International
Compassion
Heartline Ministries