Two of my favorite quotes from Dr. Seuss are:
1. A person’s a person, no matter how small.
2. Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.
One simple thing I know to be absolutely true is that ALL children speak the same language, regardless of race, or economic status. That language is love, the love of a kind heart embracing their small stories. Love can show its face in many forms; star stickers worn as earrings, doodlings of sidewalk chalk, singing loudly and in five different keys at once, dancing in the rain, wrestling like a ten-car pileup, sharing cookies and goldfish crackers, reading while snuggled up close together, piggy-back rides, and bottle after bottle of nail polish. These are joys that I share with my own three Littles, but they’re also joys that I was blessed to share with the newest Littles in my life that stole my heart in that beautiful country.
I cannot stop thinking about them. I wish that my birth Littles could meet my adopted Littles. I wish that we could live in a beautiful blended city. I don’t know if my heart could keep from exploding though, with all that joy.
These precious babies, I firmly believe are going to change the heart (at its deepest chamber) of the world. I know it. The ghetto of Belize City has many dark and shady corners. It also has the most amazing beacons of light in the hearts of the children that want more, that seek more for their lives. They want up, but not necessarily out of what they have where they are. Imagine living in that kind of peace. Whoa.
Children are worth fighting for. Every child. In every nation. They are worth the fight.
I will fervently continue to pray for them from where I am until God makes a way for me to get back to them. I desperately want to get back to them. I want to introduce them to my Sadertot, G-Moose and Smash.
Children need to be loved. Genuinely and deeply.
Please pray with me for the 60+ children I’d like to scoop up and squeeze tight again in my arms.
My heart planted a garden that week. I can’t wait to see what will bloom from there.
In His Whisper 