Lately I've noticed the pang in my heart from leaving Africa has started to deteriorate. I can finally go a whole day without once thinking about how much I miss it. I don't spend all my time looking at pictures to keep the memories alive anymore. But today, right now, I feel that heart-wrenching absence. I think about Emily's story with Dinga. How after she came back to the states she found out Dinga's heart gave out, and now all that's left are pictures and memories.
I think about all the kids we left behind. How are they? Are they making it? Are they healthy? Are they in pain? Did they get to eat last night? Do they miss us as much as we miss them?
I only got a taste of the pain they struggle with everyday. I pray for them often, but I wonder if that's enough.