bless the rains down in africa

My boy is in my head. Again. Still. Always, of late.

A morning of listening to the director of my sponsor-kiddo's orphanage, who was so blessedly able to visit our church this morning with almost no notice.

The kids are good. They're healthy. They're happy. They're learning about Jesus.

The price of food over there in Ethiopia has sky-rocketed, so they have to cut other things from their budget to feed the kids. Things like shoes.

On their New Year, they usually have a big feast, but the kids came to him this year and said they didn't want the feast...they needed shoes. How do you not just write over the remainder of your bank account to them?? And then I got to hear a little more of his story (including how to pronounce his name correctly!), how he got to the orphanage, how he's already advanced to a new grade, and how he has a gift for agriculture. He sometimes cares for the chickens. He knows when and where to plant. [so proud]

I wish he could come teach me.

And he's the most handsome 14/15 year old on two legs. (And, for clarification, that there is his own handprint on his shirt, with MY FAMILY'S names written under it, by M. himself. Heart melting.)

And how I (again...still...) just want to clear out so much junk from my house. I sat there in church with my icey latte, and then sat down to a lovely luncheon supplied by all the sponsor families....and my boy just needs shoes.

Grrrrrr.

I'm off to go pour out my heart to the One Who is with my boy right now, and can let him know I love him...even thought it can take weeks for the letter telling him so myself to reach him.