| WOW... is all I can say, right now. Maybe not all...
The last night, Thursday, we had a foot-washing service. I love them to death. Karen was washing my feet and I always get emotional and a little sniffly. But then she hugged me and started praying over me, and I TOTALLY lost any emotional control I had. And it wasn't normal. And it wasn't because of how moved I was by the service, though I was very touched. It was the words that Karen was saying. "...so much potential...beautiful child...she can run, she can fly if she wants to, Lord..." and the fact that it's true, if I want to. And it was the knowledge of what I'd done earlier that day. I gave myself the option and the tools to do what I have promised so many I won't do. And I didn't even have the reasons, or the urge to do anything. And I still took the razor. Nothing happened. The night before I had given it to the cross... the whole thing, I was fed up with thinking about it and feeling guilty about it and all of that. And the thing was, I didn't want to give it up. It's like there's something in the way of me getting over it, something holding me back. Like, when a person dies and their soul stays on earth because they had something they had to do. Kinda like that I guess. It's like it's not finished, not that I'm going to do it again, but just not finished yet. Thank GOD for Roxanne, she took it, and got rid of it for me, and that was that.
That was the high emotional point of my trip... now for the rest.
The crew I was in (Crew 6, aka Morgan's favorite) painted Miss Ruth's house. This lady, 89 years old, can't hardly hear unless you're yellin at her. She was so cute. And there was a spot along her house right next to a fence where there were tons of leaves and things. The first day it was messy in that little alley. Then second day, it was clear. Miss Ruth had gone and raked out the alley of all the leaves. 89 years old... Sweetest lady I've ever met.
Howard. Perfect exmple of Jesus's love. He was down the wrong path, drug dealing, and he got mugged, beat with aluminum bats and his right side is paralyzed and he lost his vocal chords. I understood everything he was saying. Watching him try to say something, knowing how much effort he put into trying to be an example for us. He was in a coma for a year. Lost everything. Found that his everything wasn't everything at all. Then went to Old Savannah Mission, a rehab center for homeless men, and found everything he had been missing in God. He got a few of us singing songs to him, and he mouthed every word. I don't even know what to say, or how to describe the movement in my heart after *listening* to him. Effort. Determination. Persistence. Pain. Healing. All of this.
Our boys snuck out of the school a few times. Light out: 11:15 pm. Time our boys went to "dinner" and Huddle House: 1:30. Number of times this happened: twice, out of four nights. Incredible.
I don't know what else to say. Or don't feel like typing it. Or can't describe it at all. So if you really want to know more, ask.
It's an amazing story. |
