Home Again-Kathleen

I think I should have lots to say about the mission, but I really just feel this well of silence in me.  I do have some practical thoughts buzzing about- the strength in numbers when combining churches to get volunteers for mission work and the power of helping existing mission partners in the city.  But really, I'm mainly left with images of people in my head.  The boy Zayne sitting quietly bored waiting for an hour to go with his Mom shopping at the food cupboard, and the loving respectful protective bond between him and his Mom.  The man from the street sitting in the cool of the church showing me how to see the animal in the cracker.  And the red faced young man who shuffled in to get water, but didn't want to meet my eyes.  He had hit bottom, but was still there.  To the breezy red-head looking like Meryl Streep in Mama Mia taking on painting of a small church haven in a dingy neighborhood with a vision of sunny open colors surrounding old stain glass windows that had an occasional bullet hole along with the holes in Jesus hands at the cross.  With the young boy who leaned against me at the zoo, knowing he would be hugged by me because that's what we people who volunteer at the mission do- even if he didn't remember my name, and didn't expect to see me again.  What can I say?  I just feel waters stirring in the silence and God stirring over the waters.  I don't know what it means.