Dream if you dare!


Today in my dreams I am in Africa again. The children keep bringing me back. The first time was the clincher. Like when I was 15, I learn anew each time that love is an international language. I still can’t speak in their tongue, but give me a child who melts into a coddled embrace and words are not necessary. My eyes well, my throat constricts. I couldn’t speak if I had to. The little one looks up and I gently smile in reply.

I will be here for three weeks, not my longest trip. My enthusiastic team and I have brought supplies and our skills. We prepared diligently. But we couldn’t wait to see the kids. They greeted us with song. I couldn’t help but to think of heaven.

Things have improved over the years of our visits. Water is not in steady supply. A school readies the next generation to impact not only this region, but also the continent, and the world. We can only take very small credit for being a catalyst out of what God has given us. These people are strong-hearted and brilliant. They greet us as saviors but our part was oh so small. The one place I want more language is to express how proud I am of these triumphant people.

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