Thin Silver Cross: Miles Traveled

I finger the smooth, thin silver cross between my fingers that hangs from my neck.  In the Mexican dirt, the six 17-year-old girls next to me stand huddled with arms around each other as their tears flow mercilessly against their cheeks.  I observe.  I soak in the scene.  I see each tear that drops from their eyes and is wiped by damp arms. I grip my silver cross from across the Atlantic, and the years rewind in my head:

I was 17.  It was my second year traveling to Kiev, Ukraine, for Spring break and staying in an orphanage with the most precious children that grabbed my heart and changed my life.  We walked the gray hallways, played under the cloudy sky, slept down the hall from the children, and ate amongst them.  I still see their smiling faces, hear their charming voices, and feel their tiny hands gripped to mine.  My heart broke and pieces remain there, because it was in this setting where transformation happened, vulnerability revealed, and growth occurred. And it was there when I climbed onto the pale yellow school bus with my team after hugging those sweet children, said goodbye, and sat by the window next to my best friend. A waterfall burst out of my tear ducts. This silver cross has hung around my neck since that day.   

....I look at these girls with hope, anticipation, and promise for all that God wants to do in their lives, because He's alive and active today.
And this is what I would tell those five girls...
*You won't ever forget this moment.
*Cling to each other; they are the only ones that truly understand what you have experienced.
*When you are twice as old as today, you will be grateful you allowed your heart to be broken.
*You may come back, but if you don't, let these moments in your memory remain in the forefront of who you are...no matter where your feet may go.
*Let the process of transformation that has started never end.
*Continue to seek depth, feel profoundly, love extravagantly.

My fingers move to my eyes, and I wipe the wet drops that are falling from them.  My cross descends from my fingers, it hits my collar bone, and I smile.