Not Every Day....

Not every day is a good day.
Some contain tears.
For others
For myself.
Not all tears are bad.
But sometimes.

Not every day is a good day.
Some contain disappointment.
With others.
With myself.
And disappointment can crush.
Even resilient hearts.

Not every day is a good day.
Some contain goodbyes.
To others.
To myself.
Goodbyes are necessary.
Hellos are better.

Not every day is a good day.
Some contain mistakes.
Of others.
Of myself.
Mistakes can change lives forever.
Even innocent ones.

Not every day is a good day.
Some days are.
For others.
For myself.
Good days should be cherished.
Especially on bad days.

How Can I Explain....

How can I explain....

I gently lay my hands on a full rounded belly, trying to ascertain the position of the little one inside. In response to my touch, the baby kicks. It's like a conversation with a miniature person I have not yet seen, and who has no power of speech. My eyes meet the eyes of the mother lying before me, and we share a sweet smile.

How can I explain....

I look through the chart. Her 'Risk Status' tells me that she has already been with multiple partners. Her Gram Stain results tell me that one of them has left her a nasty infection, and her doctor referral tells me she's been treated. I look at her. She tells me that she still has symptoms, in spite of her treatments, and that this pregnancy is uncomfortable for her. And she's 15 years old.

How can I explain....

I place the fetoscope on the belly of another young mommy and it sounds like there's more than one heartbeat. My hand rests lightly on her belly, beside the bell of my fetoscope and I feel it too. Then I come to realize... I'm hearing and feeling the hiccups of the itsy bitsy human inside.

How can I explain....

 I greet a tiny mommy, not even 5 feet tall. She doesn't look as young as the others, yet I gasp when I read that this is her 11th pregnancy. Her beautiful tummy does not even exhibit stretch marks. I could've believed this was her first baby. And it seems the whole family lives off an income of $5 per day.


How can I explain....

 I glance around the room filled with 60 pregnant women, listening as their voices combine in a praise song. Beautiful, Filipina voices singing in their native tongue. Singing songs they've learned in this place I work. This place that exists for the very purpose of bringing others to sing with us in honor of our God.

How can I explain....

I cannot help but love every moment of my life. How can I explain it? These amazing experiences all happened within the space of one day, and yet every day holds these sorts of emotionally charged occurrences. And try as I might, I really cannot explain it. I cannot explain the intensity of joy and sadness in this life I live. And through it all, the intensity of my wonder at the greatness of the God I love.

I Believe in Purgatory....

....I've been there.
Yes, and I am there. My life consists of two worlds, and presently I'm in limbo between them, sleeping on airport floors in multiple Asian nations (one at a time, of course). I'm at the mercy of the 'powers that be' who decide whether such-and-such a flight is full enough to fly.
The trouble is, I cannot get out.
 And as I sit here, waiting for the last leg of my journey, the layover time increases and an extra flight is added to our travel plan. I feel like just a few good deeds and a few prayers would get me out... Just like purgatory. And maybe if I'm really, really good, I'll finally make it to my home.
Home.... I cannot wait.