The Road

At least five times a week, I drive into town for a plethora of reasons and to get to town there is basically one road to take. Yes there are back roads that we call "adventures" but 95% of the time you take one road. Depending on what time you are on the road your journey is different. No matter what time, you will hear load honking from taxis "calling" to their passengers letting them know they are have room. Most of the time the road is passable and you can get through with no issues. There are a few hours in the morning and at night though when the road is PACKED with people either going to or leaving work. People, thousands upon thousands of them, walking down a two lane street. Some are purchasing goods to take home from the many tuck shops lined along the road. Some are dodging in and out of traffic to cross the road and get to where they need to go. As they walk their faces are all different. Some are joyful and laugh and joke with their friends (these you need to watch out for because they like to push and shove each other in the road like elementary school boys on a playground.) Some just keep their eyes fixed not the road and walk. Their blank faces tell a story of long work hours and a long journey to and from work all done on their feet. They are tired and worn out. It seems like nothing for them is easy.

On Friday, Tyler was driving and I was riding in the car as we passed through the heavy traffic to get to our destination. I found myself looking longer at people this day and my mind was filled with questions. You see, Thursday was a full day at Beautiful Gate. In the matter of a few hours we received three children in three separate incidences. As we drove through the crowds of people, I thought to myself, was it this person? Could it be that person or that one? Did one of these people leave any of these children? I looked at their faces differently that day and instead of seeing light hearted people, I saw pain. Pain from the journeys they have been on. Pain from the poverty. Pain from the disease. Pain from just being tired. Their faces reflected a different look to me. I no longer was overwhelmed with the hustle and bustle of the commute at that time of day, but more curious of the individual stories each of these people represent. Were they themselves an orphan, either abandoned or due to death or choice? Was their life filled with love and encouragement or one of hard work and sacrifice? Do they push and shove and joke with their coworkers, because they didn't have the opportunity to go to school and do that on the play yard? Do they buy goods every day, on the walk home, because their house does not have a refrigerator to keep food? Did they just leave a newborn close to this same area?

And then I have to ask myself the hard question...How many times did I drive by an area where a child was and not see them? How many times did I not look at their pain but continue on with my drive and complain about how they were not crossing the road nice?

I have come to a point where some of the stories of the child's abandonment no longer shocks me. It saddens me yes and deeply at times, but I no longer feel shock. More than anything I feel numb and keep going with my day, kind like the people walking on the road to town. Sometimes the events of the days and feelings in your heart create nothing but numbness. The thing that hurts me the most is that that numbness then affects the lives of precious little babies who did nothing wrong.

Please join me in boldly praying for Lesotho and it's people. Life here is tough. But there is hope. A few weeks ago we celebrated resurrections day and the last I checked, the tomb is still empty!!!!