HEART BROKEN IN THE MIDDLE OF TARGET

Two days after touching down in America and it was the first time I'd been out of the house.

You have to understand... I really let my heart get taken by Uganda.  I really, really let it go.  I felt that God had purposely called me to this place, holding part of my heart back would have just been dumb.

I hate the term "mission trip" if I'm being honest with you.  It really, really bothers me.  The whole "once in a lifetime"... "experience it once and then be done" Christian fad sort of thing haunts me.  It's not what God wants for us.  It's not how He wants us to use our time.  Yes, not all people are called to world missions, but when you get the opportunity to GO and serve Christ, it doesn't have to end there.  In fact, it really shouldn't.  

So there I was, second day home, really, really not feeling like home at all.  

Memories and wondering where and how and what was happening and still in a fog and 10pm here and 8am there and who in the world is holding you this time.  Who will feed you the bottle that burns your mouth every time.  

It was unbearable.

And then I went to Target.

Random stuff we all needed and new clothes for Trey.

And right there, right in the baby section, it all hit me.  

Nobody's at the store picking out a stroller for you.  Nobody's been down these aisles choosing a crib that you'll spend two years in.  No momma has joyfully walked down these aisles buying you clothes, and picturing your precious face in them.  No momma anywhere is in Target buying the totally unnecessary American baby stuff that we spend hours picking out.

And it broke my heart in two, right there, right there in the middle of Target on a normal Saturday. 

Nobody has the privilege of walking down these aisles picturing these precious babies' faces in these cribs and strollers and outfits and using these bottles and eating this food.  

You see, friends... when you ask God to break your heart for what breaks His -- and you actually let Him -- you feel a teeny tiny little piece of what God feels everyday.  

Because I know He doesn't sleep soundly at night, after seeing it all.  I know He doesn't let it be once in a lifetime.

You might say... of course.  He's God.  He has to care.  But when you really think about it, when you really let it soak in... God's heart is broken for the orphan.  God's heart breaks at the sight of the fatherless.  And for me, experiencing a tiny piece of that in the middle of Target, I realized the unending broken heart He has for His people.  

Father to the Fatherless... protector of widows... is God in His holy dwelling.

What a sight.  What a precious sight.  

My God sees.  My God cares.  My God has a heart that is broken.  And He's so much more than seen their faces, but He created them, and He knows their pain more intimately than any other person.  He has seen it.  He has touched it.  And every day is filled with pain until all is made right again.

Friends... this is real.  The orphan crisis is real.  Hurting kids in orphanages far away is real.  Babies born into a life of orphanages is real.  And God has made it clear.  We are all called.  

My mini culture shock meltdown in Target made me realize the severity of God's broken heart is real.  He broke mine when I surrendered my life to Him, and in the middle of Target I felt a little sliver of the weight that He carries daily.

Today I am holding onto the hope that God says in His word: "I will not leave you as orphans."  He hasn't failed me and He won't fail these precious kids, not now, not ever.