i want s'more...

The last two days we have been out in Chongwe, camping away and working at Camp Hope. For those of you who know about my time in Zambia last year, this time, my role at camp is much different. The last two days I have been basically working on the registers, making sure each child (around 300) has been registered with the correct information and has been placed in the appropriate group. It has been a huge task, but fun somehow.

I am a bit sad though. Don't get me wrong, Camp (as an Intern)is full of many blessings, however I am not getting super close to many children. I enjoy so much hearing their stories, holding them, loving on them, and sharing with them the Love of Christ. This is something I miss terribly. Despite my troubles, I am extremely blessed to be able to watch others experience what I once have. It brings me great joy to see others, using the gifts that the Lord has blessed them with, in order to bless and love these children. It is incredible to see.

I have many things that I have seen, yet not a whole lot to say. We've had fun! Two nights ago, we were in one of the My Father's House orphanages and one of the children came out with bed sheets stuffed tightly in his clothes. It was hillarious. He was dancing around and all the children were laughing and chanting for him. It was absolutely hysterical.

Another exciting thing, from last night actually, is we sat around a table with candles (because we don't have power) and we roasted marshmallows and made s'mores. We taught one of our Zambian friends about S'mores, and I think he enjoyed it. I sure did!

Well, I better get going. Before I do that though, I would like to share one piece that I had written in my journal a day or two ago. It is about a little boy named Justin, who lives in one of the My Father's House homes:



My arms cradled around his little body. he breathes in and out; quiet, still. his cheeks quickly dampen; warm tears slowly falling down.

everyday- a smile on his face. excitement, but deep down- pain. he is scared- scared to lose again- scared to risk- scared to be alone.

this evening- there it was. behind all the smiles, the giggles- and fun - the pain of a borken childhood. nine years old- a boy- broken; in my arms.

his body, warm against mine. his tender- little face, resting sweetly against my chest. he clings to me-

again i experience it-
i never want to let go.....