My hands need to get dirty

This weekend I wrote about my friend Peter in Uganda.  I also watched coverage of Houston being beaten by Hurricane Ike.  Today, I saw a story of some guy in Uganda who is kidnapping kids, trying to teach them the 10 Commandments and how to kill. 

My heart longs for my hands to get dirty.  I want to go somewhere…sweat like it’s my job…hug some kids who need some hugs…listen to some parents who need an ear…see the face of God in a way I can’t seem to while I’m walking through my average day.

I don’t even know how long it’s been since I went on a mission trip.  4-5 years if memory serves me. 

My world was rocked in England.  My world was rocked in Mexico.  I left a huge chunk of my heart in Mexico.  I want to leave a piece of my heart in another country. 

You see…I’m falling in love.  When I saw the sky tonight, my heart leapt.  I saw a tinge of autumn in the trees today…I got so excited that I almost ran a stop sign.  I need to give out some of the love that is overflowing from my heart.

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