Coming from my heart, desire is made known again. I remember.
As life *whirls and twirls*, it feels diluted and I tend to shrug it off as unimportant.
When I am tugged at--whipped around to notice--I am reminded of its place.
There's value there. Purpose.
My heart's desire is shelved for Today.
Yet, it doesn't mean that I can't notice her up there.
And when she tugs, I stoop low.
I honor Him by noticing and remembering.
I believe that we'll be part of it someday, in some way.
Our *heart's desire.*
I have no idea what that means or what it will look like.
As the days tick on, I sometimes believe less and less.
I often say it doesn't matter.
I make excuses for looking the other way.
I feel shame for how it doesn't make sense.
Hungry children humble me.
Abandoned children ignite my insides.
Orphaned children tug at me.
None of this makes sense for me, Today.
But, when I See, I feel the tugs.
And the tugs make me *remember*.
Acknowledging my heart's desire by the tugs--this is my gratitude.
And trusting in them, this is my worship.
I'm following five of Compassion's bloggers this week as they witness firsthand Compassion International's ministry to children in the highlands of Ecuador, near Quito and the Amazon basin.
In the process, I feel the *tug*.