I got up with the kids this morning so Jason could sleep in. A few things amazed me as I sat here watching them.
First, my kids look so much alike. They are beautiful gifts from God. Fearfully and wonderfully made. I pictured a little boy or girl sitting next to Henry. One with brown skin, dark eyes, and black hair. It's a guarantee that I'll come back wanting to adopt.
Next, we have so much. As Henry sat munching on a banana and drinking some milk, it hit me that we can provide for our kids. How many of you think about that - about how much you have? Or do we focus on what we don't have? I wonder what it's like for a parent who can't provide. Who knows their child is hungry and has no food to give them.
Finally, I'm amazed at the butterflies in my stomach. It's mostly because I still haven't figured out how I'm going to get from Ft. Lauderdale to Miami at 1am. It will work out.
It's time to revisit how this all began. Running, praying, and a message. Below is an excerpt from my sermon so many weeks ago.
* * * * * *
I often joke with my friends that prayer would be so much easier if God just sent postcards. You say a prayer, ask a question or have a request, and a few days later a postcard shows up in the mail. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?
Picture the scene: After getting home from work, I grab the mail. As I flip past all the bills, I come upon a beautiful postcard. There’s a picture with a blue sky, a couple of wispy clouds, a rainbow streaking across it. The card reads:
Dear Karen:
You know that animal rescue you keep thinking about opening up? I want you to do that. Buy the hobby farm down the road. I will provide.
Love,
God
I run into the living room to tell my husband. “Jason! We HAVE to buy the hobby farm down the road!”
Jason’s response? “Are you crazy? That place is half a million dollars. We can’t possibly afford that!”
“But I got the postcard!”
“Ooooh…well then…”
You can’t possibly argue with a postcard from God.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Many weeks after the earthquake in Haiti, my postcard arrived. It came in the form of a whisper. A thought that never left my mind. A voice that kept saying:
“I need you to help the children of Haiti.”
Since it wasn’t an actual postcard, doubt crept in. Maybe I’ve just been watching too much CNN. He can’t possibly be asking me to travel to Haiti. I’ve got my own children. Has He SEEN how big the tarantulas are there? And what about the LITTLE bugs? Malaria, Typhoid Fever, Hepatitis.
“I need you to help the children of Haiti.”
But God, this isn’t what I’ve been asking for. I’ve actually been asking about my JOB. What do you want me to do for work? You know, I really want to buy that hobby farm down the road and save a bunch of animals. All God’s creatures. Get it?
“I need you to help the children of Haiti.”
What followed was something that will still bring me to tears. A series of what I call ‘divine coincidences’. An orphanage presented itself. The money to cover the travel expenses came in the way of an unexpected bonus at work. My boss actually approved the vacation time.
I will be traveling to Haiti the early hours of August 16th where I will be volunteering at an orphanage called Children of the Promise. My days and nights will be spent caring for little ones, primarily ages birth to 2 years old. Changing diapers, bathing, feeding, providing therapy. There will be big bugs, and there will be little bugs. But I got the postcard, and I have to go.
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