I went to get the mail today, just like any other day.
I walked up the steps, tossed the mail on the ottoman, and continued my online search for the perfect Vera Bradley purse for Emma to carry with her to Middle School next week.
I was getting aggravated because I wasn't finding what I was looking for. And the one I liked was a few dollars more than I preferred to spend. And for goodness sakes, what does an 11 year old need with an expensive pocketbook, anyway?? I found a cute one for only $35 dollars, but it wasn't the perfect color.
Then I opened the mail.
I had a letter, and I just love getting lettters. This one was from a little boy named Sam. He lives all the way across the world, in Uganda. I couldn't wait to read what he has to say.
You see, even though we've never met, he loves me. And my family. He tells us so every time he write to us. He prays for me. And he thanks me for everything I do for him. Every. Single. Time.
What breaks my heart is that I don't think I really do all that much for him. I write a check for $37 each month. I pray for him. And I occasionally send him a letter. Just $37 measly dollars - the amount that I would toss away so Emma can carry a purse she likes better than the multiple purses she already has.
I read Sam's letter today. He told me that he thanks God for me every day. He is joyful. He goes to school Monday through Friday, and on Saturday he goes to "the Centre." He said he loves that, because he always eats a good meal there. He wanted to know if I also live in a grass hut.
Was it even possible that just moments before, I'd been irritable over a purse?
He asked me to pray for him, because he would like wisdom.
Oh my, how I desperately need wisdom myself. So much more than this precious little boy could ever understand.
I long to hold him. To live just one day in his shoes.
To see the world through his eyes. To see my God the way that Sam sees Him.
I can put him out of my mind if I choose, for a time. Sometimes I do that, although I'm not proud to admit it. And then our worlds collide, and his reality unfolds before my very eyes through his letters.
I can never be the same. And I pray that God will continue to stir my heart, so that I never want to be blinded again.
I wonder some days if I am really the blessing to Sam, or if we are a part of each other's lives because God knew that I would need him.
If you don't already, would you consider sponsoring a child who desperately needs your help? It's so easy.... just go to www.Compassion.com
If you already sponsor a child, or if you've just decided to, tell me about it!
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