I am constantly reminded of how much God has blessed me by placing me in the family that I am a part of. Not only are my parents strong believers, but they are also very loving people.
Yesterday afternoon, I went to grab something from the refrigerator and I noticed that there was a new picture on the right door.
For years, we have sponsored children through different programs and, for the past five or so, we have sponsored children through Compassion International.
We have a new little sister.
As Daddy jokes, “We’re adopting Peru – one kid at a time”.
Stefanny, 7, Yesenia, 8, and Edgar, 10, have become a part of our extended family. For a long time, my parents have wanted to send them a picture of our family, so we took one this afternoon (as it will be the last time for a while that we will all be together).
My experiences at home seem such a contrast to what I am feeling now.
At home, I was able to get away from some things that the Fort has come to mean to me. When I got back, it was as though I was hit by an emotional two-by-four as soon as I walked through the door.
I cannot live permanently in the way that I lived tonight. I can’t even try.
Why do we speak at all, when all speech seems to do is cause more problems?
Do people even realize when they tell someone something that upsets him or her?
I don’t know. I don’t think I even really want to know.
Is all this anguish worth it? My head says “no,” but my heart resounds with “yes.”
I don’t listen to my heart enough. Maybe I’ll work on that. ‘Night.
Mood: Irritated Listening to: Hawk Nelson, Letters to the President
Reading: Old emails