Thoughts Late at Night

My heart and my head have been full today. Today at church we had a guest speaker; the daughter of our Laurel advisor taught our Young Women lesson today. What an amazing woman. She went to Africa as a volunteer for Mothers Without Borders and came to tell us of her experiences. Apparently, millions of children are orphaned in Africa due to disease and/or violence. As described on their website, this amazing, inspired organization's mission is to "address the needs of orphaned and abandoned children in a holistic manner. We support efforts to provide safe shelter, food and clean water, education and access to caring adults. We want to assure that each child has someone who cares about them to teach them of their value."

The photos I saw today were haunting.

As a mother, I tried to listen to the speaker and watch the slide show and hold it all together. I tried not to weep. In such a simple but eloquent manner, she told of her experiences in vignettes--little moments of getting to know children and trying to do what she could to ease their burdens. It broke my heart to hear her stories of children left alone in such a harsh environment, without the basic love and care of a mommy or daddy. Her photos made otherwise unimaginable conditions so real.

She told of a little girl with chronic eye infections who, when given one of the quilts brought from America, wrapped herself up in it and began to sing a song of thanks to God and did not stop for a half hour.

She told how this little girl had her first bath at age 11 and loved it so much she didn't get out for two hours.

She told of children heading households, caring for brothers and sisters alone. Households made of mud, basically.

She described going to villages with the objective to just play with the orphaned kids, because they have no time for games otherwise.

She talked of little kids who loved God, but who told her they didn't know if God loved them back because they felt forgotten.

She showed a photo of a little boy who confided hopelessly that he didn't know why God made him.

She told of meeting a boy named Kennedy, who is the boy in this painting.

"The Worth of a Soul," by Liz Lemon Swindle

(Go HERE to read the behind the scenes story of the making of "The Worth of a Soul.") Below are some photos, from the website, of the model portraying Christ with the children; aren't they amazing? In every photo our guest teacher showed today was a child left alone in the world, with no one to feed them a warm dinner or get them a drink of water. Literally...no clean water. I wanted to jump on a plane and bundle up each child up and bring them home with me.

She told of feeling overwhelmed at one point with the things she had seen--the poverty, the hunger, the burdens of these little ones--and prayed that night to the Lord to help her understand what she should do. She knew she couldn't change much in the lives of these children, but could only provide fleeting assistance with medical care and giving quilts she had brought. It could never be enough. She told of receiving an answer from Heavenly Father that all she could do was to love. To pour love onto these little children, as much as she could for as long as she was there. She told a story of one little girl who, as they said goodbye, kissed her hand and said, "Remember me."

Her purpose in speaking to us was to impress on our hearts the fundamental need for us to serve one another while here on earth. She explained to a room full of teenage girls that, while they are not able to hop on a plane and go feed hungry, motherless children in Africa, they can "remember" others by simply being a little less selfless, a little more kind, in their own corner of the world.

I've taken part now and then in Humanitarian projects: sewing quilts, painting wooden toys, assembling hygiene kits, gathering school supplies...but seeing these photos and hearing someone's firsthand stories of what happens on the other end gave me a whole new appreciation for these acts of service. What was previously a remote, emotionally removed act of going through the motions has taken on an entirely new meaning.

I came home thinking that where much is given, much is required...and wondering what in the world is required of me. I am not able to jump on a plane and help other children in Africa. I have deeply-rooted responsibilities here at home, with my children. But it is so easy to donate items and I will do so with love from now on, thinking of the grateful recipient on the other end who has so little. I can show my love for Heavenly Father's children on the other side of the world by giving simple necessities to ease their way and bring happiness. I cannot accomplish dramatic acts of service in another country, far from home. I think for now, my home is where "much is required" of me. Maybe what is required of me is to be mindful of and humbled by my great blessing of living in conditions of ease and plenty.

"Where much is given, much is required." What is required of me? I don't know. But tonight I feel more deeply the responsibility not to get sidetracked by the things of the world which do not ultimately matter at all. To stay the course, teaching my children of our purpose here on earth and our eternal journey, serving God's fellow children in our sphere along the way. I can't go help the children whose photos made my heart ache today, but I can be mindful of those in need in my own corner of the world. I can use my resources here.

As I watched photo after photo of primitive living conditions, my own struggles and heartaches were put immediately into perspective. I was reminded today of the insignificance of the things I think I need, when all my family needs is each other. I need to be more appreciative of my most fundamental blessings. When my day ended today I sat on my couch for my favorite late-night quiet baby snuggle time, held my sleeping baby boy, sniffing his feathers, and thanked my Father in Heaven for being able to provide safety and security. I wish I could give it to children everywhere.

Go visit the Mothers Without Borders website, here. It's inspiring.

* All photos copyrighted from the website "motherswithoutborders.com"

I am fairly sure I'm breaking some copyright law and will soon end up in the clinker.