Grieving is like riding a bicycle. Once you’ve done it, you never forget how. It crashes over you with breathtaking force. The swollen aching sinuses from hours of crying. The pounding headache. The bitter salt taste coating your mouth and throat. The bone-deep exhaustion. And it hits without warning. A couple of days ago I…

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“Mommy, will you come with me to the bathroom? You haven’t done it in awhile,” he wheedles, an expert in emotional manipulation at just four years of age. He’s right – I’d just returned from 8 days in Bolivia and hadn’t been available to keep him company in that most fearful of rooms in our…

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My entire life, people have told me how to be me. I suspect this is a very common experience — humanity strives for uniformity, fearing and suffocating diversity. For me, these messages came via “how to be a good Christian female.” In the circles I’ve found myself in for the past 35 years, I’ve been…

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It’s their eyes. That’s what I remember most. Not the smell. Not the dirt and dust stiffening their clothes and hair, crusted on their skin, jammed under their fingernails. I stopped seeing that after awhile. Not the perpetually drippy noses. Not the cheeks on men, women, and babies alike all chapped black. Read the rest…

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We had some technical difficulties, so I thought I’d post the recordings of our conversation for those of you who couldn’t stay up or couldn’t get logged in. Part 1 Watch live streaming video from worldvisionusa at livestream.com Part 2 Watch live streaming video from worldvisionusa at livestream.com Part 3 Watch live streaming video from…

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Paulo has 8 children ranging in ages from 14 years to 6 months. Three of them walk 2 hours to school and 2 hours home. He told us that he used to live near the mines, but it wasn’t a safe place for children. He bought the land in the mountains where we visited him,…

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