I’ve got some big things coming up in the next 10 days: my oldest son’s 18th birthday and then on Wednesday, the twins and I leave for our annual trip to Disney World. And no, the 18 yr old is not too happy that we are going without him but he and I are hoping to take a trip to Tokyo together soon so that’s softening the blow (yes, there are some major perks of the airline life).

I feel the season winding down and I know before long the easier (although somewhat chaotic) days of summer will be behind us and it will be fall and then Christmas and it will all come so quickly that we will post frequently on social media our disbelief as Target puts up the Christmas stuff right after they take down the school supply banners.

And the wars and rumors of wars, and the injustices, and the children who cross borders with no families and the poverty and the inhumanity continue, and at times I feel kind of silly living this little suburban life with my running and my vacations taking up so much of my time.

And yet the words of a friend of mine, Celestin Musekura, keep coming to my mind. “Bloom where you’re planted.”

Celestin’s story will blow your mind if you have a chance to look into it – it’s a story of pain and death and restoration and poverty and war, and is so far removed from my own story that you’d think there would be no way I could feel connected to this man and his family and yet I do. Because he is part of my family. And I am part of his. And not to be too ridiculous and quote High School Musical in the same paragraph where I’m talking about death and poverty in Africa but friends, we really are “all in this together.”

Oh, and that mom who tearfully puts her child on a train and sends her to America because she feels it is the only way she can escape from violence and rape and death?

She’s my family, too.

So when I read of the great awfulness I will choose not to dispair or turn away, but to stop and center my mind and my thoughts and be grateful and have joy. Because I know my God is still in heaven and that there is a plan, even when I can’t see it. I will take my boys to Florida and enjoy every precious moment with the keen understanding that all is fleeting and none of us knows what lies ahead, just around the corner.

And I will cry and lift a prayer to heaven for my family in Africa, and the mom in Honduras, and for my own sons who are walking into adulthood into a very broken world in need of redemption. I will ask God for mercy and for wisdom and for the energy to fulfill all he has for me to do.

So don’t turn away from the big awful – look at it. Square in the face. Pray. Ask. Seek. Do. And God will move and work through his people. Like he always has. And like he always will.

Happy Running.