Hurting... It surrounds me!

I could not help it. I was staring. Everything my mom tried to teach me as a child, it was OUT THE WINDOW! She was almost awkwardly tall as her legs doubled below her swing like she was trying to tuck them tight and gain speed. “Mom, how old do you think she is?” I just had to know. My mom shrugged. Insisting because that is something I am good at, “She is pretty old mom.” I turned back around to look for my son on the other side of the playground.

It was like a magnet drew her closer to me. She walked up and stood right in front of the bench we were sitting on. My mom and I glanced at each other as if to ask why, but never speaking a word. Then she began mumbling, “I’m not afraid any more. I’m not afraid any more. I’m not afraid any more.” I looked at my mom wanting to hit her arm so she would speak up and help this stranger out. We were on her territory. I was at home in the states. It was not my ministry location and I felt out of place. I stared at the girl again. “When I was little, in San Diego, I was kidnapped from a place like this.” Her voice sounded just like my niece who is six. “For two years my mom searched for me.” She began to tell her story. My heart began to ache. She had health issues. She had a tumor removed from her brain. She had a brother in a special home because he was sick. She was now forty-six. She looked a lot younger than that, not young, but younger. She threw her purse and cell phone down at our feet and ran off chanting, “I’m not afraid any more!” She was working on breakthrough. Once more, she began to swing.

“Mom, why do you think she is here? Is she alone? She said people were watching her, but the only person she pointed to was animal control.” Again, my mom shrugged whispering “who knows?”  The girl came back to pick up her stuff and received a phone call. She quickly skipped it happened as fast as she had come.

After walking to the car I began strapping Jayden into his car seat. I saw the pink shirt sitting off to the side. It was her. Sitting with a man. He was touching her. Talking with her. She was all smiles. I couldn’t help but wonder how many of them called her each day. If she even knew she didn't have to, or if her kidnapper had destroyed her. Maybe because of what I work with in Honduras. Maybe because I know the statistics in Central Florida. It broke my heart. “Mom, do you really think it is what it looks like?” A tear escaped and began to roll down my cheek. “Lauren, there are people hurting every where.”

I wanted to take her home. I wanted to show her how great life can be. I wanted to show her a true and pure love that is only found in Him. I could not. I don't live there any more. That, my blog reader, I leave in your hands. 

Not everyone is called to leave home and move to a foreign country. I know that! Some of you are senders, supporters, and advisers. Some of you are called to ministry at home. Some of you are the reason we can keep our doors open and continue to care for the orphans and abused here in Honduras. However, some of you have been watching for a while. Afraid to get involved. Afraid to make a commitment. Or maybe even on such a tight budget that you are afraid to donate $5 a month. If you are not committed to Open Doors will you do me a favor? Commit to something. Commit to someone. Tomorrow, as you go out and face the world look around. At work, as you drive, in the gym, maybe even at church. Set yourself aside for a moment and give to someone. Maybe not financially, but give love. Show grace. Brighten their day. You may be the only thing keeping them from having the worst day ever and giving up. Spread some love.