Passion

I have been described as a "passionate" person on multiple occasions. Maybe every other day of the twenty-five years I've been alive. I'm not sure if it's always been meant as a positive though. It's sort of like when people say you're "special." Can be meant in all honestly as a compliment, or it could be like "stop eating the paste special" (quote from Rory Gilmore). Regardless, I (more often than not) choose to take it as a compliment. I figure, if you don't have passion, what do you have? Profound, I know. You all can quote me on that.

Here are some of the things I am passionate about: 

• Freedom for Girls in Sex Trafficking  
• World Missions 
• El Salvador (and Christ for the City)
• Starving Children 

These things make my heart ache for the broken, and burn for the injustice committed. The faces of girls caught in sex trafficking keep me up at night. The lost, lonely, and forgotten children of this world cause me to want change for the next generation. Central America feels like a part of my heart. Missions feels scary, and yet something I might have been created for. I look at these website, read the stories, watch the videos, and I sob. I am one person, yet I feel the urgency of these enormous needs. Sometimes I feel scattered and unsure. Why am I passionate about these things? What do they add up to? What am I supposed to do with them? Where will these things lead me? Then, I remember: 

"I have raised you up for this very purpose, that I might show you my power 

and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth." Exodus 9:16

This is my purpose. That he might be proclaimed through my life. Wherever that takes me, and whatever that looks like. Today, I can pray. I can give. And I can keep my heart tender to the needs of this world. And even those small choices can make all the difference.