A Thousand Words

While on my mission trip to inner city Chicago I felt my heart weep for the kids who had absolutely nothing. They had matured beyond their years and seen and experienced more harshness in their 8 years on earth than my 23 and yet managed to be happy with the small joys of childhood, like riding trikes on the rooftop. There were a few nights when I cried for them and their situation, and vowed to never forget what they’ve experienced and never take my own place in life for granted. I would be valiant in my effort to make a difference to those in need, I would submit myself to God, and be intent on listening to Him and following His path for me.

Now, six months later I’ve found myself confused and wondering a lot about the road ahead. I’ve realized my shortcomings and have found myself forgetting the things that matter most to me. I feel as if I’ve been called again to remember those wonderful kids and my time spent in Chicago, and to make a change and live my life the way I wanted to six months ago. So…I’m going to.