Jesus, Hold My Heart.

Written By Jennifer Bridges on March 1, 2014.

Our visit to the city is finished and we climb into a mini bus (small van) at the bus station. The music is blaring with twang and words I don’t understand. The sun is scorching and the dusty orange dirt is blowing. I am relieved to find transportation so quickly as sometimes it takes hours. Ashebir made sure the van from Arjo reserved these treasured seats for us. Our bag with our meds, special food, books and a small coffee table is secured on top. Thankful for our heavy duty duffle bags we use for our luggage.

As I sit still my heart settles into our day. I was free of fleas for 24 hours and even as I sit I can feel them collecting around my waist and up my legs, there is no reason to fight it. This is just part of my story.

I am still extremely sensitive as today my heart melted uncontrollably for the first time in awhile. I have been keeping good control of the emotional side and fighting with logic and solutions as best I can.

Even still as the music blares it takes me back…today we visited the entrance of E’s school and camped outside at a little tea shop while he finished registering for his second semester. His grades for his first semester came back as A-, A-, B+ and B+. He has worked hard balancing working on the farm and studying. He is a one hour bus ride from home (thanks to the road being paved) each way. Sweet coffee with milk and then a walk to see his room. For some reason staying in our beautiful room last night must have left me soft. Too soft and clean to be prepared to see his room. Behind a falling metal wall in a construction area a cement box with a door and a lock. I began to shake. “Is this where our boy is staying? Away from sweet mama and the kids and the farm?” I turned around quickly and tried to shield my tears. I am so proud of him, I don’t want him to think I am disappointed. The family has worked hard to negotiate this room.

The music stops and the van is turned off, our trip is being stalled. At least the music stopping helps me control myself in the van.

For a moment I question myself and my people. Who made me in charge? Who gave us the power to decide who gets help and how much? How can I be tormented with such decisions. Why does a beautiful young man inside and out who is honorable and working extremely hard have to live in this cave? Why is he so extremely thankful?

Sweet Jesus, lift this burden from me.

The van is turned back on and we begin to roll, body odor, dust, smoke from an outdoor cooking fire and car exhaust. I’m ready to go back to see mama and the littles.

We talked with the owner of E’s room and will put him on the waiting list for a better safer place. As I come to my senses I have a meeting with myself and bring my justifications. The room is dry, has a lock, a mattress and he only has to sleep there. Every student is poor and it builds character to work hard and earn it. At least for now I must believe it.

Jesus holds my heart. Once again I put the family back in his hands, I had tried to hold them on my own. He is so patient with me.

I must be strong and trust in an almighty God who was working in this family and village long before I came on the scene. He knows them. He sees them. He loves them.

Receiving your hugs by faith. Please share these stories so that others may be encouraged to find the village God has for them.