in America.

hey, I'm in America and it STILL feels weird.

the months have flown by. months of crying. months of joy. months full of remembering. months of reconnections. months of retelling stories. and rekindling the fire that I have for a God who sends me.

my nights are filled with dreams. dreams of what happened. dreams of the babies on the street. dreams of our AWESOME God. but my days are filled with opportunities. opportunities to serve His people...HERE.

the more I get back into my groove, the more I realize..is it even possible to have my heart literally all over the world?

to love a people so much THERE. to love a people so much in Peru. and to continuously be reminded that I am in MY city to love these people for a season. however long that season just might be.

there is guilt. much guilt. but that will go away in time.

I get to have showers everyday. I get to eat more than rice and beans. and I never have to worry about my government turning off my power because I am of a different religion.

I don't get thrown against walls. I don't get stones thrown at me. And I surely do not get followed by angry mobs.

I get to go to stores. walk without fear. sit in a comfortable house. and drive a car.

{this things evoke guilt. but He is working}

little things spark my memory and take me back. and in some moments I can almost feel the dirty, grimy hands pulling on mine. when I eat and drink {water}...I remember.

I remember those days. so many of those days. filled with buying bread...water...and hunting down the street kids who would hide from the police.

I remember the blind beggar who had never felt someone's touch and who jumped as I poured water into her mouth.

He was faithful every time. to let His mercy and love pour out. to let them see His face and not Ivy. every. single. time.

I remember when I hear stories about sickness.

I remember walking home from school. seeing Azma. high fever and barely moving. several weeks after I saw God restore her body. and mama-mode went into overdrive as I lifted her up. carried her up my stairs and into my apartment {as dumb as that may have been for a M (her mother) to be there. her body was limp. not a move. I got water. bathed her. prayed earnestly over her tired, helpless body. and a few hours later...our God delivered a healing.

I remember the babies. my babies. sitting on the orphanage floor. waiting. waiting on their mama and daddys. and one day...they will come. I have to believe that.

I remember the days of no water. and no electricty. no power in sight. but sweet friends, those are the moments He showed off. His power was seen like no other. in the darkness. without the basic necessities. He was there. He was good.

as I help the homeless here. as I love on kids here. my God will not let me forget. His people. His children. and for that I am glad.

because one day...I will be back. full of a new fire. and new wisdom that only He can give.

I am thankful today that He has called us to all people. every nation. every tribe. every tongue.

our prayers should look like..."to whom shall I go...today?'

not on your one or two week mission trip. not when you have a free Saturday. not on Sunday.

but today. go. be His hands. be His feet. He is good..and His glory will be known.

He's not kidding around when He says "go."

believe that. and just do it.