!

Back when I started this blog, I had only one real aim in mind: to cut down on the number of newsletters my mother would tell me I needed to write. I figured that if I wrote my stories here, people could just stop by and read them, and they'd know what was going on with me.

Along the way, it's evolved into something so much different. I find myself actually needing to write, regardless of whether or not anyone is reading. I process my days through my words, my sorrow and joy and frustration and exultation all draining through my fingertips as I type. It calms me, writing. Takes the pieces that didn't fit and slots them neatly into place. Smooths the rough edges and holds me tight while I cry.

And somewhere in the midst of all that, I realized that people were reading what I wrote. Not too many, and probably not many with any regularity, but somewhere out there, someone was taking the time invest in this work alongside me. I can't tell you how encouraging that has been. To know that there are people out there who, in some small way, care about me and what we're doing here. Care enough to leave a comment when they can relate to something I've said. Care enough to send me stickers from Singapore. Care enough to write me some of the most uplifting e-mails that land in my inbox.

Like the one I got from Dina just yesterday. The one that was full of joy! and! exclamation! points! The one that ended with the words ...got to get my kiddos to bed! but first bedtime prayers for ali and ani...

Now, maybe it makes me a big old baby, but I'll admit right now that I read that e-mail and burst into tears over here, somewhere on the Atlantic. The thought of those four little kids who I've never met taking time at the end of the day to pray for me completely floored me, and I guess I just wanted to say a public thank you, to whoever's out there.

Thank you for being a part of this. Thank you for caring about me and what we do here on the ship. Thank you for leaving comments and writing me encouraging e-mails. Thank you for sending stickers and baby clothes and craft supplies. Thank you for praying for us. We'll be in Togo in just a few days, going full-out to get everything set up for the new outreach. There will be new nurses to train, new translators to meet, new stories to learn.

And somewhere, on the far side of the ocean, there might just be a handful of kids sending prayers up to Abba for us. Which is why I'll keep writing, keep telling all those stories. Because they're not just praying for me; they're praying for the babies with the cleft lips, the ladies who have been wet for years, the old men blinded by cataracts.

The worship leader at our community meeting last night said it perfectly, I think.

We are going to Togo because God is already there.

We are going to meet God there, all of us, because we are all part of this work. You and me and the little girl who sent me the money from her piggy bank to help pay for a package she sent me. Whether you realize it or not, you are part of this work, part of this awesome privilege as we get a front row seat to the piecing-together of shattered lives.

And that, my friends, deserves an exclamation point!