Losing It

I found myself in my room crying again because I couldn't find it... I couldn't find a picture that I took in Detroit. It might have been one of the photos that got deleted from the camera a few months ago. As tears fell down my cheeks, I became frustrated that I didn't save the pictures better. "It doesn't matter anyways," I think. And yet it some how does. Why else would I be crying about it? The worst part is that this isn't the first time I have cried over a lost picture. (I'm really bad about keeping track of photos.) As I wiped away the tears, I kept thinking, "why does this even matter?" And an old fear came creeping back, you're going to forget it said. As strange as it sounds, I'm so afraid that by moving around so much that I am going to lose those moments on the mission field that are so close to me. I feel like I have to prove that existed for others to see in order that it is actually real. It kills me that people don't know about Elizabeth Bindi, Joseph Bangura, Rutile or any of the other incredible people and situations from Africa that I hold so close to my heart. Just like the pictures, I fear that Africa, Detroit, and Minnesota might become lost. It's a LIE though! It's a lie because not only do I hold them close to my heart, but so does my heavenly Father. He loves them all so much more than I do. And he knows it all so much better than I could ever remember from a picture or story. So I hold close to him, remembering the good times and the bad. I once again trust the people of Detroit, Africa, friends, and family into the loving hands of the Father remembering that he loves them all. He knows what they need and He will provide for them.