Wrecked

I've been spending some time tonight reading through some of the blog posts by bloggers I follow about their week with Compassion International in Nicaragua.  And I opened a letter from a sweet collegiate who does PreK with me each week about her missions trip to Kenya for the month of July.  Then I reflected on how my sweet four year old draws people in where ever he goes- like today at lunch when our waitress, the food runner, hostess, and people sitting on either side of our table just talked to him and oooh'd and ahh'd over him.  Seriously.  He's a people magnet.  And four years ago, he was found on the street.  People, this wrecks me.  Poverty wrecks me.  Children being given up because their parents can't take care of them wrecks me.  Girls having to sell their bodies to put food on the table wrecks me.  Children wearing nothing but a tshirt wrecks me.  My wealth and self centeredness wreck me.

I want you all to get it.  I do.  I want you to get out of the country and hold the hand of a kid who is dirty, but has a smile that will melt your heart.  Because when you do, when it wrecks you, too, you will tell your friends about it.  And then they will tell theirs.  And maybe, just maybe, through God, we can start to change it.  Kids can stay with families, go to school, have food to eat.  And you will beg God to continue to wreck you over and over again.

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