A few weeks ago, we received a letter from our sweet Mugwaneza, written by her mama, Mediatrice.
I have struggled to find the words to share with you the depth of my emotions from reading this letter in particular. I choke back tears, humbled, and in awe of our Savior--the One who arranged for us to sponsor our girl.
I have always known sponsorship is so good for the children--allowing them to attend school, receive healthy meals, have medical care, and hear about Jesus.
I have always known sponsorship can relieve a mama and a daddy's fears about their children's education, and let's go there--basic survival.
I have always known sponsorship can do a work in my very own heart--breaking it to pieces for our Dominic, Eyouel, Mugwaneza, and their families.
But now. Now--I know the need. I know the aching to help. I know the soul-deep desire to make a difference.
I know this sponsorship thing we've been doing...it fills a need, it helps, it makes a difference.
I was humbled and shaken to the core, as I read the translated words of Mediatrice:
Your daughter and her family were so happy to receive the gift of money which you sent her. They used it to cover the house which they live in, they had no house. She has sent you the photo of that house with her mother and her young sister.
We bought our Mugwaneza and her family a house. A HOUSE.
We gifted her family a simple $100. How quickly does $100 disappear in America? A trip to the grocery store, two tanks of gasoline, a few meals out, a new outfit or two.
A small sacrifice for us gave our girl and her family a home. A HOME. They had no home.
I can't get over this. I won't forget this. And I don't want to.
What I want to do is MORE.
MORE being a voice.