After leaving MTU today, I just had to walk.
My brain was going a mile-a-minute.
I was trying to reconcile a part of the training I deliberately skipped over.
I had the honor of speaking at MTU’s morning devotions and I shared from Mark 7:31-37 as model of care for those who work in the helps field.
Warm Buses and Warm Hearts…hehehe
It’s a well-known fact among my real-life friends and fam that I’m an extra warm-blooded person. I rarely wear a coat, and Jed constantly bemoans the fact that I’m passing that trait on to our kids. Who needs a jacket? They’re so bulky! I’d much rather run from the house to the car to the store and back, than to be suffocated by a bulky jacket. Don’t even get me started on the suffocation factor of scarves. I get it that they’re cute, a little pop of color for an otherwise bland outfit, but am I the only one that can’t handle the strangulation? Just the thought of a turtleneck makes me feel like my airway is about to close.
|The vent right above my head…doesn’t work.|
Where am I going with this? I have no idea. I just had to talk it out because as I write this we’re on a fairly warm bus headed back to Zhitomir. I’ve been sweating for the past 12 days, and so it continues today. (I’m a Bittner. We sweat.) Anywayssssss….I just needed you to feel my pain for a sec. I feel better now. 🙂
Have you ever tried to cut back blackberry brush?
If you have, you are already feeling that sense of dread. If you haven’t, imagine fighting off the huge squid on 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.
You’ll spend hours fighting a blackberry bush and when you step back it looks like you were sitting on your hands, “Oh, that’s nice Honey. What have you been doing out there all morning?”
Shoulders slumped, you head back out to the fray, hoping to make a dent in the seemingly insurmountable task. Hands bleeding, mud up to your calves, the stench of something that died at the far end of the brambles but you push on.
Though this is a bit of a crass example, there is a similar feeling that must come across the beautiful men and women who faithfully go to Romaniv (an orphanage for boys with special needs) every week. “Am I making any difference?”
I’m just assuming they feel this way some days, cause riding in the van out there yesterday you wouldn’t have known they feel anything but joy. These folks are my heroes.
Kim and I have a favorite place at Romaniv. It’s called the Isolation Room. Most of the boys and men are mobile, though with varying levels of difficulty. I am reticent to show you pictures because it is quite traumatic and I want you to meet them, not just see them.