In parts of the industrial suburban areas around Zambia, there are women and children gathering rocks. Any and all kinds. Mostly large boulders. Lacking power tools, they sit and hammer these gathered rocks into gravel and then dust. The dust is mixed with water, and probably some other stuff, to create bricks and mortar for building.
They sell their wares along the roadside.
I couldn't help but give a lot of thought to allowing myself to be broken down ... crushed to dust as it were ... from what I've built of myself, and allowing God to rebuild me in His way to greatness according to His need of me.
I feel a deep reverence for faith in general. I love to see such individual depths of faith everywhere I go. Every one of us is somewhere on that path and we don't always sit in the same spot, collectively or individually. That's what makes us complete each other. Some push me forward, some allow me to exercise, some lift me up, but all can fill my gaps if I let them.
Sometimes, I'm a rough rock in a field waiting to be picked up.
Sometimes, I'm being hammered into gravel.
Sometimes, I'm dust waiting to be built back up again.
Daily, I can be used by a masterful hand to build something of strength and greatness if I'm willing to simply change.
We spent Sundays attending our own church of faith, but the evidence of belief and hope were everywhere.
My heart nearly burst for this young man on a Saturday afternoon washing his laundry.
He taught me how to prepare. He scrubbed away at his best white shirt chatting with me about how it would be clean so that he could be clean on the Lord's day.
We couldn't have been more thrilled to greet him at the door and partake of the sacrament at his hands. Those very hands so concerned with being clean.
The children from the MWB home get to ride a bus into town and attend the meetings. I've never seen children sit so quietly through a block of meetings without complete parental supervision ;)
I sat with one tucked under each arm, feeling a connection to a thin place and the heart's of mothers who would give anything to be there cuddling up their own little ones.
And as a side note, it was pretty awesome to meet this cute sister missionary all the way from my sister-in-law's ward in Alpine, Utah.
It was our pleasure to hand carry a letter to her family back here in the states!
And these beautiful girls?
I think they will always hold a special place in our hearts.
As they recited our young women motto, every word took on depth and meaning stinging my eyes with tears. They fight to make it real. Every day.
Just knowing them, chipped my rock a little bit more to being built again after their example of greatness.