To remember...

I feel the wrench in my gut and the groaning in my soul.  It leaves me in a state of distraction as I give in, searching for that distant sound, that particular smell, and I end up lost.  Lost in memories, faces, and patterns of a yellow and green dress.

I feel the stirring, the scab of time stripped away leaving my heart exposed and raw.  I invite the guilt and pain to wash over me as waves of reality leave me breathless.  In this place I feel alive because I remember.  The waves of suffering, poverty, and hunger plunge me into the under tow cascading me downward.  I am pulled in the downward force, my lungs ready to explode as I inhale one choking sob after another.  As I am jolted along the bottom the sobs erupt from deep within, bubbles of a haunting melody that race to the surface beckoning me to follow.  A choice emerges to drown in the hopelessness or pray for strength to swim to the surface.  The whisper ripples around me though muted by the pressure in my ears..."Compassion is not enough... Mawa, Mawa, Moise Mawa....Remember..."

It is enough.  Strength returning as prayers sweep me upward.  Breaking the surface I am blinded by the sun, the hope so different from the darkness below.  The striking similarity of the hope mirrored in the eyes of my son, the eyes that once held emptiness and despair.

To remember fuels a desire to learn the mystery of the love my God has.  To love in a way that throws caution to the wind.  To love in a way that challenges and leaves you vulnerable.  To love in a way that self is smashed over and over again.  Love that does not hesitate to sacrifice. 

I feel feeble.  A wrecked mess.  How will I ever learn to love like that?  I desire to.  I yearn to.  Yet so many times I pretty it into something more comfortable, less evasive, and more desirable.  I strive to define it as many have before me.  LOVE: Worldly descriptions abound never ceasing to combat with those in red.  Which will win?  It is your choice.

To choose to remember is to love, to love is to act. 

The ocean seems endless and makes me feel small.  There is much fear in being small.   The realities stinging my heart seem just as endless.  Not knowing where to start the need so great.  Yet it is vital that we begin somewhere.

To love is to act, to act is to grow.

Love becomes an anchor in the endless expanse.  Love parts the ocean showing a purpose worth the pain, the risks, and the sacrifice. 

To act is to grow, To grow is to know.

To know more intimately the mystery of the love my God has... the love I desire to reciprocate....
The love that brings hope...