Sharing Burdens

At Giving Children Hope I truly get great get joy from our partners. They are passionate people who are dedicated to helping others and advancing the cause to bring hope!

Yesterday we had back in our office Brian from Won Generation. We are working together to assist the country of Zimbabwe. Their country director in Zimbabwe is attending a funeral a day with the recent cholera outbreak and food shortage. We’re working together to send medicines, dried fruit, and medical supplies. This family is making great sacrifices so they can get aid to people that are in desperate need. So often I am saddened by circumstances, but inspired by those we work with and together hope is delivered to communities and Brian is an inspiring partner.

Today however, I learned of a tragedy of favorite partners in Houston. This couple is amazing and gives so much to their community as pastors of a church. Just last week their son was killed in a car accident. When I heard the news I cried, because our partners become such dear people in our lives here that together we share each others burdens. I’m not always sure why God has me in the role that He does. Often I am just so inadequate. But for some reason here I am, doing the best that I can, and trusting that God has infinite wisdom to deal with all of the pain in the world.

Sad news often brings me to one of my favorite prayer books by Ted Loder entitled Guerrillas of Grace: Prayers for the Battle. A prayer that seems fitting in such hard to understand circumstances:

How Shall I pray?
Are tears prayers, Lord?
Are screams prayers?
or groans
or sighs
or curses?
Can trembling hands be lifted to you?
or clenched fists
or the cold sweat that trickles down my back
or the cramps that knot my stomach?
Will you accept my prayers Lord,
my real prayers,
rooted in the muck and mud and rock of my life,
and not just my pretty, cut-flower, gracefully arranged
bouquet of words?
Will you accept me Lord,
as I really am,
messed up mixture of glory and grime?
Lord help me!
Help me to trust that you do accept me as I am,
that I may be done with self-condemnation
and self-pit,
and accept myself.
Help me to accept you as you are Lord:
mysterious,
hidden,
strange,
unknowable;
and yet to trust
that your madness is wiser
than my timid, self-seeking sanities,
and that nothing you've ever done
has really been possible,
so that I may dare to be a little mad too.


So today, we lift up our friends in Houston, we lift up our friends in Zimbabwe, and we shed tears in solidarity and listen for direction on how to respond. The only thing we often know is that we are indeed called to respond.