I'm following their stories

I see her post and I remember.

She is in Ecuador; she and the other bloggers at the Compassion child development center this week. They bring Hope to the families. (Click on the sidebar to join me in following their stories.)

They are close to my Diego, his home a long two day drive to the south.

I don't even know words for this, and I wonder how they'll ever be coherent enough for "Publish Post".

My heart gets so wrapped, tangled, intertwined in these stories of families. I read about families who I don't even know, but I see that they struggle and hope, struggle and hope, hold onto hope.

And then I get a letter in the mail from Diego, and he's colored me a truck again with a sun. And did you know that all the way over there in Peru the children still draw suns with smiley faces on them?

And this little boy doesn't ask for a soccer ball, his favorite, or money for a better home. He wants to know what I like to eat. I tell him lasagna and steak. And he asks me to pray for his parents, that they will come to know Jesus.

Jesus. Hope. Cling to the Hope with the capital H. The only Hope that stands firm when circumstances steal your footing.

And my heart warms that this five-year-old boy, across to another continent, knows the Hope that holds him.