On purpose, though. And I keep reminding myself not to take a bite of the mango bread I just made, or grab a piece of fruit from my full fridge.
I pray through the hunger, which is a deep hunger for more than just food. I am hungry to see something incredible happen.
It has started already—this amazing thing. My new friend, Lisa, and her family have spent their love on adoption—already adding two kids from the other side of the world to their family.
Now they are trying to add a third. A little deaf boy from China.
I pray for their family today—both the members in the States and the one in Asia. I pray for the money they are trying to raise for this adoption. I pray for the details, the paperwork, the energy needed to continue the process.
I pray as they—including their other kids—learn sign language...and so much more.
I think about other friends who have gone to so much trouble—tens of thousands of dollars spent, trips across the world, paperwork, delays—to give children families. I think about my friends, the Deans, who decided to complicate their life with little Leeza, while the rest of the world prefers to simplify. They face health problems that don’t go away with a doctor’s visit or a dose of children’s Tylenol.
I think of many friends from my old home in Port Alsworth, Alaska—adopting both locally and from Africa. One of the families moved their eight adopted kids with them to Uganda to give even more.
I think about my own excuses of why I don’t do more. We all have thought about it, seeing an orphan on TV and imagining holding him in our arms. Sure, we’d all like to feed the hungry, give to the poor, heal the sick, rescue the lost.
But it costs so much—this kind of all-out love. And I don’t mean just money, and I don’t mean just adoption. It’s complicated—where hurdles look a lot like dead ends, and obstacles, we think are closed doors.
But I am hungry for more.
I am hungry for compassion, for courage, for change. I am hungry for hard things that don’t fit into a budget, but produce riches that never run dry.
I am hungry to watch a God who uses the least—the least capable, the least brave, the least wealthy—to love the world's least.
Are you hungry? Do you have money to give to bring Lisa’s child home? Do you have a vision to involve others—your church, your co-workers, your family—to support families who are adopting, or organizations who care for orphans?
Do you yearn to bring one of the world’s 143 million orphans into your home? Do you desire to do something else hard that would love those who hurt?
Be hungry. On purpose.
Photo credit, linz_ellinas