I feel hardened. I feel like I cannot allow myself to process the things I've seen or allow myself to dwell on them, because really, what happens if I allow myself to REALLY, TRULY look at what is going on, in my daughter's homeland?
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This weekend, a friend of mine visited orphanages in Congo. And in one of the homes, they were present for the kids' one meal of the day. ONE meal of the day. And it was a small piece of bread that they dipped in tea for flavor, to fill their small bellies. They lined them up and fed them this small amount of food.
It's heartbreaking, when you actually stop and think about this idea. One meal. Bread and tea.
But it gets harder. What the picture doesn't show is the "older" kids. The ones who are around 4. The ones standing in the back, with nothing to eat, because the orphanage ran out. And the little ones need it more to survive. Think about that, really think about that for just a second. The ONE meal of a day, and there isn't enough for all the kids to eat that day.
Oh, Friends. That hurts.
I can't tell you exactly where I'll go from here, but I can tell you this: things have got to change. Because I'm fairly certain that I won't survive the stain on my heart from doing nothing. Will you?