Lord, I read this blog today and wept. I know this woman. She & her grandson live in a tiny travel trailer. Every penny is precious to them & their sustenance. It made me remember reading another article on Lynn Hybel's web page. She spoke of African "Grannies". They are older impoverished African women who "unofficially" take care of the thousands of children orphaned by AIDS. They may be their natural grandchildren, or they may be neighbor's orphans, or waifs that wander up to the shacks these Grannies live in. Lord, the compassion You have placed within my heart is stirred when I read these things. No, wait, it isn't stirred, Lord. It churns, it bursts out of me like gas under pressure seeking the freedom of the atmosphere.
Lord, make something come of this "stirring" within me. Don't let me dismiss it. Don't let me distract myself from thinking of these children & the women who selflessly care for them. Here, in America, the land of plenty. And over there, beyond the horizon, in a place of suffering.
Pity the person who has no bowels of compassion to be stirred, to be in tumult, to explode into action. Do like Miawa. Do like the Grannies, Little One.
Do --- something.