Heart Break

Journal entry on Sept 25th, 7:20pm, The Grace Hotel
" We went to Soweto today...South West Township. There are an estimated 3 million people living in total poverty and helplessness. We walked down one dirt road with shacks lining the way and stretching out as far as I could see. the children ran among us, so dirty, mostly barefoot, asking for food or money. They were friendly, playful, touchy. I held hands with a number of them as we walked along. I took pictures with them and of them. They love to see their picture in the digital camera! They were beautiful and precious and fun. I wondered how many of them were HIV positive, if they still had parents or if they were orphans, if they were starving, if they were being abused, if they were tired, scared, broken. What are their lives really like? Are they eating, resting well, being protected and loved and nurtured? Where are they now I write from this luxurious, comfortable hotel room? Are they all alone tonight? Are they in a a little dirt shack with no electricity or running water, sleeping on the dirt floor, prey to some sick predator? Are they watching their parents die from AIDS? Are they sick themselves, in pain, afraid, alone?"

After that emotionally difficult day, seeing the hopelessness of the children in Soweto, I woke up many times throughout the night. My mind would immediately start racing over all the images I had seen of dirty kids with bare feet and runny noses, of babies in a "Day Care Center" laying on the dirt floor, lethargic. It was almost too much to bare. My heart felt like it was literally breaking inside of me and I couldn't stand it. These images were now permanently there in my mind, I couldn't get rid of them. I almost wished I hadn't seen what I had because it felt like my heart just couldn't take it. I began thinking about my own children, about all that I would do to prevent them for ever having to live a life like this. How is this fair? How can this happen? How can we sit by and allow all these precious innocent, victimized children to live like this. They are experiencing pain and sadness and fear and desperation, and they shouldn't have to. What are we, as fellow human beings, doing? We are guilty of allowing this to happen to them if we are not a part of the solution to solve it for them. How can we just let it go on, turning our heads the other way because the problem is too big or the solution is too inconvenient. They may be far away from us, but it's still happening, it's still real, their pain and suffering continues and we just step over them as we go about our lives. What is this life for? Why are we here? Why are we so blessed? How can we share what we have with those who do not have? If we are Christians, are we acting accordingly? Are we being the "body of Christ" to these children? Are we using the minds and hearts and arms and legs that God gave us to reach out and be the answer to some ones desperate prayers? Or are we sitting still, hoarding, clinging, ignoring, choosing to allow this to happen?