How You are Part of Her Story

Last night we arrived at our destination on the Zambezi river in Zambia in time to see this sunset while zebras grazed behind us.

This afternoon as I write this I am sitting under an umbrella on the same deck, looking at a herd (a pod? a bunch? John and I can’t decide and we don’t have internet access to Google it) of Hippos in the water about a hundred yards out.  Every once in awhile (of course never when my camera is trained on them) one will lift his head high, open his mouth and roar.  How crazy is that??!!

Quite a contrast to our day yesterday when we bumped and lurched for hours in a Land Rover over narrow dusty paths through the bush in an area called Moyo.  Over tracks not made for vehicles, but worn through the grass instead by the toughened bare feet of our sponsored children, cared for by World Vision.  We had the privilege of visiting all three of our precious kids for the second time in two and a half years yesterday.

A couple of weeks ago I ran the half-marathon to raise money for clean water in this area and many of you were a part of that effort.  In the past year World Vision has built 19 bore holes – wells with pumps for clean water.  This year their goal is to drill 25 new bore holes in this huge, desperately poor area where clean, accessible water means the difference between life and death, health and sickness, time for education and hours spent walking to haul dirty water.

So it was for these three kids specifically, that I prayed every time I ran while training, and on race day.  I wore a bracelet to remind me.  It said, “I care.  And so I run.”

I wanted to choose to do a hard thing, because they don’t have a choice.

Sakina, Givison, and Loveness and many, many more do hard things every day.  Because they have to.  I would pray, “Lord strengthen them for the hard things they have to face today. Give them glimpses of Your love and provision.  Help them to be brave.”

And as I prayed for them, you prayed for me.  And them.  And contributed money so more people in Moyo Zambia could have access to clean water. $6,430 equals 129 new people getting clean water.

So when we met with Loveness and her family I gave her mom my bracelet.  I told her as I ran I prayed for Loveness.

Many of you are a part of this story.  My bracelet represents your prayers too.  I want you to know that and to thank you.

Now, in the-middle-of-nowhere Africa one mother is wearing a bracelet that hopefully will remind her that she’s not alone.

When she walks across this field to carry clean water back, she’ll remember that someone has seen her plight and cares and is praying for her and her kids.