Africa

The African children's choir came to our church again this weekend. I can't explain how undone I become when they start singing or performing. When the drums start and the shouts begin, its like all the cells of my soul join together and rise. When their sweet voices begin to sing I answer them with tears. Undone. I ask God, "How many God. How many do I give homes to?" He answers "All of them." I smile and and ask, "What kind of answer is that." "Find them." "We don't have the money. " "It will come." I look over at Derara and he is crying softly. He tells me the choir makes him sad and makes him cry. He misses his brothers and sisters. He longs for them. I long for Africa. "Why him God? Why does he have to hurt? He is so sweet." silence. After we leave church we pass a warehouse for lease that is 25,000. square feet. Ryan says, "There's us a place. Its about the right size." He feels it too.