Kayla asked me a few days ago where Rwanda is. For her, this is not a land of mass murder and political chaos. For her, Rwanda just means the home of her brother. I did not decide that this 13-year-old African man-child was her brother, that was all her. When Nigusse was added to our family a few weeks ago, she asked me, "Mama, how are you going to take care of all six of us?" Even for her, she was half-joking. Still, it's a lot of pieces for a heart to be split into, even though I do little to provide daily for our children who don't live in our house.
Time has changed for me. If I look at the clock at see that it's 2:00 p.m., that means it's nap time for my girls. I also have become aware that it is around lunch time for Yeimi in Guatemala. It's 2 a.m. for Lordylien in the Philippines, and I hope she is sleeping peacefully, resting up for a new day. It is 8 p.m. in Rwanda and I hope that Rugwiro has had dinner and that he is safe and at home with his aunt and uncle. It's one hour later in Ethiopia and I pray that Nigusse is with his father and getting ready to go to whatever he sleeps on for a bed.
I'm not saying that I have these thoughts every hour. My heart and head don't stay in five countries for the bulk of the day. Mostly they come when there is temporary quiet and the littles aren't pulling on me. I know that part of what is going on is my overprotective nature. I have no control over what is going on in four pieces of my heart. I can try to imagine and research what to pray for them and let them know that I think the world of them. I can love on them the best way I can with oceans and continents between us, with stickers, coloring books, and sports cards. But I can't lay my hands on them the way I do with the two who live with me and I can't see that they are safe with my own eyes.
For some reason, I'm supposed to think that this divided heart of mine will actually help someone else want to feel this way, to sponsor their own child, and spend their thoughts and affection in other time zones. But I do ask that you pray and consider giving a piece of your heart to someone new, someone who needs your prayers, your encouragement, and a little of your money. At only $38 dollars a month, it's barely a meal for my household at Chili's. The link on the right will take you straight to Compassion's website where you can find the child you never knew you had. Or just ask me. I have pictures of two children who are waiting for someone to sponsor them. One precious little boy who has been waiting over six months. If you have questions, ask them. Don't let your questions paralyze you.