Not gonna lie…I’m an emotional mess. It’s SO good to be home and to hug my husband and kids, but there are just a myriad of emotions and feelings. I keep having moments of mini-breakdowns. As I was brushing Delaney’s teeth last night I wondered, “Who brushes all of their teeth at night?” And the tears began to flow…

It’s a bit daunting to deal with the emails and the responsibilities of life here in America. It’s shocking to step back into the reality of responsibility. I find myself easing in rather than jumping in.

I now understand why God specifically calls us to the widows and the orphans. It keeps everything in perspective when you deal with people who have faced tragedy and are making it through. Every child I touched I prayed over. I called out for their futures, their dreams and their potential. The only word that describes it is overwhelming. I take great comfort in the fact that God weeps over His children far more than I ever will.

And I will go back. I can’t wait to drive through those gates again to give hugs to those familiar kids and bring prayers for the ones I have yet to meet. I hope to bring even more people to experience El Sauzal. There are 35 little people that I would love for you to meet and so many hugs to give and work to do.

Just be prepared to leave a part of your heart in Mexico.

One of my most heart wrenching moments of the trip came in the nursery. A little girl named Leticia had become my friend. She hadn’t been at the Orphanage very long and was visibly unsure of her place in her new home. She arrived with her brother, Noberto, and her sister, Claudia.

I stopped by the nursery at any free moment to hang out with Leticia. I read her a book…in Spanish, we built casitas (houses) out of blocks, and I smiled as she laughed with shining eyes and deep dimples in her round cheeks.

Edwin, a little boy full of mischief and way too much intelligence, threw something and it hit Leticia in the head. Tears welled up in her eyes just like they do in my own daughter’s eyes when they are wounded. She looked across the room, came running into my lap, and cried against my chest for a long time. I sat and stroked her hair and wept with her.

It was hard for me because she doesn’t normally have a mother to run to. She has caring, loving nursery workers, but neither of us are the same as the love of a mother. I held her tight in hopes that my arms would do for the moment and prayed a prayer that Leticia would know the love of God deep within her and have His arms when no one else was available.