Here I am, Lord

I'm overwhelmed today, Lord.

I've been overwhelmed a lot since the summer began.  There are too many people filling up what feels like too little space.  I thrive on bits of solitude, and yet none can be found.  There is childish bickering and tattling and squealing continuously ringing in my ears, and not one of these children of mine has managed to learn to clean up after his or her own self.  I haven't mastered it yet, either.  Consequently, the clutter consumes me, and with the sleep deprivation and the ADHD and the endless lists of things needing to be accomplished, I feel powerless to accomplish anything at all. 

And so for now I sit, overwhelmed with life.

And by chance almost, though not actually by chance at all, I came across a documentary today about Ethiopian women.  Beautiful, hard-working Ethiopian women.  Hurting, suffering women lacking possessions plentiful enough to create clutter; lacking children healthy enough to bicker and tattle and squeal.  Women that are often no more than children themselves and who have already buried children of their own, being forced into marriage at tender ages.  Twelve.  Thirteen.  Nine.  Even eight.  Forced to give birth before their bodies are grown, before they are capable of delivering a child.  Ruining their bodies.  Ruining their babies.  Ruining their futures.  Outcasts, wandering in an endless desert of solitude.

And now I sit, tears streaming down my face, overwhelmed with the aching in my chest.

And I pray.  For the healing of these women.  For the protection of impoverished girls in this and other third-world countries.  For the hospital that ministers to these broken women.  And I ask, Lord, if someday You would allow me to help, too.  Do you have a mission for me in Ethiopia?  Is there money that needs to be sent?  Are there prayers that need to be said?  Do I have an Ethiopian daughter waiting for me to claim her? 

Overwhelm me, Lord.  Break me down.  Destroy me, Lord, so that I can be overwhelmed by You.  By the privilege of serving You.  Please use me, Father, for my life is caught up in ease and luxury and triviality....and yet You bless me so.  Show me what I can do to help, Lord, and I will do it.

Here I am, Lord.  Send me.