Maine

In the last seven days, I have walked on the beach, watched the waves crash into the rocks, hiked through Acadia national park, gone shopping with my family, and driven around Maine visiting lighthouse after lighthouse. Without a daily schedule we have been able to relax and to enjoy the beauty of Maine together as a family. As we grow older I know that such occasions will become more and more rare, so I have to cherish the moments when my parents, my brother, and I are all together. Yet I leave  to return to Mexico in a couple days and I struggle to grasp the two very different lives—the life of the vacationer and the American alongside that of the life of the orphan and his needs.  The more I pray for the kids I will be with this summer, for the missionaries at Gabriel House, and for the family of Rosa Linda who just died from complications with Chicken Pox, the more I am consumed. My heart is consumed by a love for those that Christ referred to as “the least of these”. My mind is consumed by a desire to go and to be there. And my soul—my very being is consumed by conviction that I am living two lives: the one of the American where I have more than I either need or desire, and the one where I truly try to pursue the calling of Jesus Christ for my life and to surrender all to Him.

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