Sunday, November 16, 2014

A Week of Lasts

A little red and yellow boat sways back and forth in the sea.
The waves roll over the shore with two bobbing heads.
Crows caw overhead with the bread man riding past, honking his horn.
So much of the sights, the sounds, the tastes of Indian have become home the last 10 weeks.
And I sit, taking it all in. Grasping onto each last moment as they zoom past me like an Indian bus down a winding road.
I have anticipated this week as it is a week of last. Last time in my home away from home. Last time grasping onto sweet little loving hands. Last time sitting and laughing with the women in the stitching center. Last time running around with the school children and trying not to pull out my hair. Last time sitting and crying and praying with the beach ladies that I love so dearly. Last time holding my husband's arm across crazy Indian traffic. Last time watching and listening to these waves crash against the shore. A week of lasts.

And as much as I not ready to go home, I am ready. I am ready to meet the last moments and go home. And I am glad there is sadness! Because that means that my heart has been stolen once again. It means that the Lord has been working and growing my love for these people and this place. It means that I have been filled with the compassion and love of the Lord. And in these last moments, I pray that I would be overflowing with that love and grace of the Lord and would pour myself empty onto these people.

Be praying for us during our last moments.

Blessings from the Sharps

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