The happiest birthday.

My 23rd birthday wish was for no more malaria at New Hope Orphanage. My wish was to raise $480 to purchase 80 mosquito nets for 160 children (2 kids per bed). God had other plans (as always) and flooded that place with nearly quadruple the amount of money requested! 

Ask and you will receive, my Father says. 

Stretch out your weary hands to me

and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven 

and pour out so much blessing, 

that there will not be enough room

to store it." 

Malachi 3:10

How incredible was it to send $1640 to Uganda on Wednesday morning, and receive photos of my overjoyed little angels holding up their new mosquito nets by Wednesday night? Too incredible for words. My kids even sent along an unexpected birthday message! 

It really was the happiest of birthdays. 

This photo could not have been more special to me. It's not only the first time i've seen sweet Shamim with her new mosquito net, but my first time seeing her in the new wheelchair we ordered for her over the summer! We drove over 13 hours to get this wheelchair custom-made. Complete with an attached desk and third wheel for extra support. It is absolutely perfect and I don't remember Shamim ever looking so radiant :)

These last two photos make me cry. I think to anyone else, these photos are happy ones. But when I look into 9-year-old Anisha's sweet, carefree smile, I think about the many times I've laid hands on her burning hot head as she cries over the pain of malaria taking over her body. The cost of getting her a new net was six dollars. Why didn't someone pay $6 for this precious one's safety from malaria until now? And as she poses so happily in her bed, I can't help but think about how she shares her bed with another girl. Another orphan. I can feel my heart tearing seam by seam - my sweet beloved Anisha. You shouldn't have to share a bed in a cement-walled dormitory. You should have grown up with someone to call "mommy" and "daddy." Someone to tuck your mosquito net into your mattress for you every night, and sing "Jesus loves you, this I know.." over your bed until you fell asleep."Come to me, my baby Aida" I speak out loud into my NYC living room. I forget that I'm not with them today. They seem so close. "You should have a mommy too. You shouldn't have had to be rescued from a bug-infested, abandoned house. You should never have been a 4-year-old raising a 1-year-old baby all by yourself. You should have your own bed, with princesses painted onto your pink, flowery walls. You should have dolls to cuddle with at night when it's chilly, and a mommy to kiss your cute little nose right before you fall asleep." And I cry. Because these children have a loving orphanage, a new mosquito net, determined teachers, and a faithful pastor. But it's still not good enough. It will never be good enough for these precious ones. These sweet ones deserve a home. They deserve a family. A family that will keep them forever. 

 As I look into their sweet, joyful eyes tonight, I pray to Jesus for more. More grace, more healing, more justice made alive through the fierce, reckless love of our precious Jesus. As I look to Him tonight and ask Him questions like "Why did you choose her for this life?" and "How can things ever change?...His voice speaks to me loud and clear. 

"It is my heart to heal and to redeem. 
I am the Life Giver, 
and I love to set the broken free." 

I know the Life Giver. I know the Redeemer's Love. And it is not the kind of love I've only read about in stories, or the kind of love that has been romanticized in movies but never seems quite as beautiful in real life. No. I know His love because He is the One that redeemed me. He turns the deserts of my life into gardens of Eden. He fills my valleys of darkness with rivers of joy. 

His love is a strong, limitless, unstoppable kind of love. 
And I will never stop asking for more.