Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed.

These words are the heart of God. More and more, I am asking God to grow His heart within me, within my family.

Yesterday was definitely one of those days filled with moments where mourning and dancing met. The joy of Alice getting better. The hurt of Geoffrey not.

Thankfully, Alice, after 10 days of being admitted to the hospital, was able to be discharged. Geoffrey, on the other hand, was struggling for every single breath.

I watched as Alice told her little brother, “Bye, Geoffrey. Utapona (you will be healed).” Such tenderness in her small voice followed by his tears as she headed “home.”

The question was then asked: “Where is home?” And the decision was made – for now, ours is best for her to recover.

Titus took Alice’s hand and led her down the stairs and to the car. A moment that captured Titus’ unusual capacity to couple kindness and strength. It didn’t strike me until much later that Alice left the hospital with only the clothes on her back and a black plastic bag filled with four oranges. No change of clothes. No toothbrush. But as I look at this picture below, I somehow think she has what she needs most.

When we reached home, a makeshift bed was prepared. Alice ate her supper, took her slew of medicines, and slept in my Kimbilio t-shirt. And like the word plastered across her shirt, may our home be a refuge for her that ultimately points her to the God who has always seen, known and loved her.

As I was putting her to bed, I was trying to imagine what could be going through her mind. She is eight years old. In another new place. While there is so much hard to her journey, I pray she knows she isn’t on her own.

In ways beyond my understanding, God has knit these children to our family. May He guide us as we seek to defend, love and care for them. And for Geoffrey, it is another day to cry out to a good Father for his life – for hope and for healing.