Re-entry stings like the cold air biting your face as you wander through the parking lot at New York’s LaGuardia airport, searching for the car. Re-entry stings like the pangs of something along the lines of guilt, sadness, and hope as I walk the neatly landscaped American suburbs and think how messy Cristo Vivo looks. Re-entry stings with the pain of not being able to walk holding hands with Lulu (she’s back with her mentally ill mother). Re-entry stings my heart as I remember walking with Leticia around the avocado trees at the orphanage, trying to understand her garbled speech, as she works hard to overcome a physical deformity that results in a speech impediment.
Re-entry.
Re-entry does not mean that The Journey Project is on hold or stopped. Quite the opposite, we are working to raise funds and get people to commit to work there over a longer period of time. The vision continues. The dreams of restoring these children’s lives by love is still there. The kids are not with me physically, but they are in my heart so much. I think of them, pray for them, love them with long-distance kisses from my dreams.
I know soon I will be back with the kids, back in what I feel is my home now, back to the heat and dust and trash-strewn orphanage. Yet I believe God will use this time in the US for something stronger, something sturdy and lasting to be built from these dreams that have come out of my journey.
If you want to get involved more with what we are doing or just to learn more about who we are and what we live for, contact us at contact@thejourneyproject.org
