Why Are You Crying?

It's been an emotional day for me. And several times I've had people look at me and ask what's wrong. I smile and tell them nothing bad. 

Then I got a text from a friend. He asked if it was a good cry or a bad cry. The truth is I didn't know how to respond.

At the feeding station today I was thanking the girls that helped out since Iliana and Karina were absent yesterday. One of them hugged me and didn't let go. "The only thing we want in return is Christmas baskets are we getting our Christmas baskets?", she asked. Unsure how to respond I looked at her and smiled. "I have faith and I'm believing."  What else could I say to her? 

I got in the car and I began to sob. If it were in my power each child would have a Christmas basket in the special present with their name on it and wrap. I feel brokenhearted. It isn't broken because I'm hurting and pain. Is broken with the passion and desire that I don't know what to do with. I don't know how to use it. I'm afraid to show it and share it. 

On days when everything I fought for and tried to make happen was stripped from my grip. On days when everything I'm working for seems to be working against me. And just when I started to lose hope. I see messages from followers sharing our story. I get messages from supporters sending in sponsorships. I get overwhelmed, as I am reminded, how everyone else cares too.

I wonder what it was like for Mary. She was bursting at the seams ready to give life. A life that she would one day watch be taken. Everything she poured herself into. She poured her life, her being, her everything into this child. I wonder what it was like for her as she watched Him get taken away as painfully as He entered. 

A burden that is carried, not by one, but my many. My heart still aches. 

It aches for what I fight for. It aches for everything we so desire to change and make different. I wonder if Mary knew that the life she fought to bring into the world, the very work she was judged for. I wonder...

Did the aching stop? Did it subside? Was she faced with the turmoil her entire life? Did she think she would die as she watched pieces of her very being have the air stripped from it? 

There is something so painfully similar to what has happened inside. And then Im reminded the feelings are shared. Im not alone. There is someone else there. Standing, fighting, caring by my side. I see it in your emails, your "shares", your texts, and your calls. I see you, I hear you, it gives me strength to move on.