“Would you mind responding to me and including your personal email address? I have a very exciting opportunity I would love to share with you.”
I stare at the email that came through this blog.
It’s not spam.
My heart thuds a little. Okay, it thumps hard.
What? An exciting opportunity? Who’s not interested in exciting opportunities?
Especially from this source.
I email back right away. Exciting opportunities always sound fun.
I read and re-read the response.
I pop my contacts out. Drip on the Simplus. Rub. Flood them with tap (don’t tell my eye doctor) water. Pop them back in. Try to focus.
“I want to invite you on a sponsor tour . . . ”
What? Who me? But my little blog doesn’t get ten billion gazillion hits a month. I’m not all that popular. Why me? Are you sure you mean ME?
I really don’t ask that. But I think it. I’m still thinking it.
NOTE: This is your hint to subscribe to this blog and sign up to like my Facebook page if you haven’t already.
Of course, I’m interested. My answer is “Yes!”
I’m cool. I’m calm. I’m collected.
I might even squee in all caps.
As in SQUEEEE!
(Pretty sure I did.)
And I think I’m going to throw up.
“Oh, one more thing. Don’t say anything yet until we know what trip we’ll be going on and when.”
Say what? I need to hold all this in?
This dream-come-true I’d pretty much let go? To travel with this organization? To see it at work?
I’ve been holding it in now for over a month–lips puckered, cheeks bulging, heart swelling.
So here’s the skinny.
I’ll barely unpack and recover from Haiti before I pack up again for the other side of the same island. It’s the first time Compassion International is taking bloggers on a sponsor tour. I get to give voice to what happens when a child meets their sponsor face-to-face. When letters and photos walk and talk. When skin touches skin. When sponsor and child feel each other’s heart beat. When tears mingle. I can barely breathe when I anticipate beauty and joy of it.
I’m beside myself with excitement.
And a little apprehension.
Okay, a lot of apprehension.
Because I feel the weight of responsibility to see deeply, listen well, and share good stories.
I’m also nearly overcome with awe in the asking and in God’s orchestration.
I’m pretty sure this is going to break me in a whole new way.
And to quote Anne Lamott in reverse: Wow! Thanks! Help!
In the stillness (and not so still at the moment),
Oh, and while I have your attention, maybe I could ask you again to consider sponsoring a child? Or another one. Maybe even one from the Dominican Republic? Like maybe Jeremy. He’s been waiting for someone for almost a year. Who knows what hope might grow because of you? Our girl in Kenya is 15 now and has a dream to be a neurosurgeon. Be still my heart.