This morning on our walk to the market, a man was cleaning the grime off his hands. A fixer upper, he had grease everywhere. Probably under his toenails.
After this past week, sitting in the afterglow of that beautiful Gotcha Day experience while pondering all the orphans that are not in families, giving such thanks for the children of so many friends near and far who have found place and safety and love, and yet hearing the sweet struggles of a friend who is only just now seeing hope of that long desired bonding several years in, and around again to all the brokenness that I see in my own family, and really to a degree, in every family regardless of their makeup. How much we need cleansing, renewal, the grit under our toenails and the grime that we can't seem to scrape off washed for us. the hope of cleanness and healing and wholeness. It's beautiful to see the rays of hope and heartbreaking to see all the darkness still lingering. "He raises up the needy out of affliction and makes their families like flocks." May it be so.
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