This week, the desperation and tragedy of this place started to hit me.

Realizing that some of my first graders are HIV positive.

Meeting gogos in the hospital that have out-lived 6 of their 9 children.

Holding the tiniest baby boy and knowing his mother is dying and each breath is painful for him.

Singing Amazing Grace in the women's ward while looking at their beautiful faces knowing they are broken and hurting.

Having an 8 year old stay with us this weekend fully aware that her mother might not see her turn 12.

Recognizing that when the gogos die, there won't be anyone to care for the thousands of orphans.

Remembering that in the middle of the night girls as young as six year olds go to a tree line to prostitute themselves for a stale slice of bread or a piece of fruit.

These realizations are heartbreaking and make me feel helpless. Here I am doing all that I feel I can do but it's just not enough. It's in these desperate moments that I remember who my Father is.

"A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling."  

Psalm 68:5

The things I see and hear never cease to shock me. I am constantly amazed at the strength of the people I meet. I know that God is working and He is using me and my team. The Lord is also using you in tremendous ways to restore Swaziland. Thank you so much for being part of this. My heart is aching for Swaziland but I am clinging to the Lord's promises and the hope I have in Him.  

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress…"

James 1:27