I was telling my fellowship group the other night that I have been feeling a little guilty lately because I think about Africa ALL of the time. Even I find that it's hard to compartmentalize sometimes, and I often find my thoughts drifting to Africa even when I'm doing other things. My dreams at night are filled with my sweet little Sammy, wise Bridget, and precocious Liti. I analyze the calendar to calculate when I'll possibly have enough vacation time saved up to go back, and I'm praying for the courage to ask my boss if I could take some unpaid days so that I can go sooner than next fall.
I feel like I left half of my heart in what truly seems like another world, with children who couldn't seem more like my own if I birthed them myself. I know that Sam is safe and protected at Sangaalo in the care of amazing Damalie and David, so I worry less about him, though I miss him just the same. But knowing what the girls face each day... well, I fear for them. And every morning, I hand them over to God and trust that He is protecting them from the very corrupt and dangerous people who surround them. And I continue to write to Bridget and Liti, praying over each sealed envelope, that it will make it into their hands quickly and safely.
All I can do from here is pray and remind them of words of hope that were written long ago. Dear Lord, let that be enough - at least, for now.