I keep on thinking that I am traveling all the way to Africa to get my heart broken. Sound strange? Yes. Let me attempt to explain. I don't know how anyone can go into this sort of situation...to see some 200 orphans in one orphanage who have seen more terror and hardships than ever imaginable. These kids who will be so, so incredibly happy to recieve the simplest things like stickers or school supplies - maybe some of the first times ever seeing these things. I'm not fooled to believe that little me, the little white girl from MN who somehow is affording international airfare and who definately wears her heart on her sleeve will not be affected by these kids. How can I witness these kids...open my heart to them...and NOT get my heart broken in the process? And in way, yes, I do want my heart to break. I want to know that I am capable of that compassion...that I can give these kids that sort of love and care. I've said this before, but I want this trip to change me in some fundamental way. I just think my heart getting broken is part of the process. That my friends is not something that is easy to prepare for. It's not like remembering your passport or gathering donations...it's so much more. It's trying to mentally and emotionally prepare. *sigh* I just really feel like the "leap" into the unknown is here. Bring it on.
Until next time...
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