My Strength.

I'm writing this at midnight, but you wont be seeing it for a few hours. I'm just going to write, and not filter too much, and hope things make sense when it's all said and done. And if it doesn't, it's okay. I just have a lot on my heart right now.

Today.

I woke up, got some work done. Had my amazing interns come help me. Got discouraged. Ran around like a chicken with my head cut off for a few hours. Almost cried in the Chipotle line when the worker asked me how I was doing. What's my problem? One of those days. 

But then it changed. Because I went with 30 kids in the Shine club to serve food to the needy downtown. Not just any kids, my shine kids. 30 of my sweet kids who live in inner-city Phoenix. Kids who have been told they're not good enough, and have so much to give it's bursting out of them and lights me on fire every time I see them.  And after planning this and hoping they would all show up, everyone did. Except for one, who called me because she had a family emergency.

It's an emotional job that I have. Being involved so closely in so many lives that I wish I could make better, or change. I hate it when things aren't fair, and being surrounded by unfairness makes me break down sometimes because they don't deserve it. And so I started this whole thing to help them. To save them from doubt, and fear, and pain, and  I work really really really hard to bring them more hope and happiness.

And my sweet, generous interns work really really really really hard to bring them more hope and happiness.

We plan service projects for the kids to do. And it's funny... service, that is. Because you go places thinking that you are needed and are going to help a lot of people, and in all actuality, you're the one who is changed the most. Like tonight, for 3 hours when I was surrounded by these students, I didn't think about myself or what is going on in my outside life one time. Not one time. And I don't think they did either. Because all of them were beaming, and excited, and fighting over who got to do what jobs because they all wanted to be so involved. And everyone was just happy.

One of my Shine interns went, and afterwards I got this text from her... "...Working with (shine) has really made me change my train of thought and it's been so heart warming for me... I truly think I was brought on this earth to help others."

And she nailed it. We're here to help others, and in return, we're changed and blessed beyond what we could ever give.

As I was driving a few of the students home after the service project was over, I started feeling this gloomy anxiety of things I needed to do and figure out when I got home. I was talking to the last student left in my car, asking questions about life, and what he dreams of doing.

And this kid has some high goals. He mentioned his mom, and I asked him a question about her.

He put his hand on his face, covering it from me. "My mom is dead."

All this guilt and rush of regret flooded over me as I wondered how I could ever have such minor trials, and let them affect me so much. I didn't know what to say to him. It's the first time in a really long time that I had no words of console, or comfort, and I wish I handled it differently. I wish I would have said something worth saying, but I didn't, because all that could come out of my mouth was "I can't imagine how hard that  is for you."

No duh it's hard for him. What a meaningless statement to say to someone who probably hears that all of the time. What I wish I would have said was, "Wow, you are so brave. Thank you for sharing that piece of your life with me, because now I am inspired to be strong, like you. I don't know the logistics of it, but I sure bet you're mom is looking down from Heaven, and is really proud of you. For things like tonight, where you go and serve other people because you want to spread happiness, even though you're hurting inside too."

I looked at him in my rear view mirror, his head down, and I thought "these kids are changing my life more than I will ever affect theirs. I can't imagine not spending my time with them."

By now I had hit 13 hours of working, which is fine because it's normal, but I was overly exhausted, and running on fumes. But I had another stop to make. I drove to the other side of town to a Threads employee's home to pick up bracelets. This kid is my hero. He's my hero for many reasons that I know are too private to share with the mass public, but he has overcome a lot. He's also really opened up to me this past year as he's realized my help is consistent, and that I really do care.

He came out to greet me, and lead me to their new place. They move a lot. I must have been a mess, because after I paid him and gave him his new supplies, he said, "Please be safe on your way home. I'm going to get you water, hold on don't go yet."

He came back with the coldest bottle of water I've ever held. I don't know how he knew that I needed it, but he did. Because we look out for each other now. 

On my way home he text me, "Let me know when you're home. You seemed really exhausted and I wanna make sure you're okay :) "

I smiled. For a lot of reasons. But mainly because it feels good to have the people that consume the most of your time and energy really care about how you are. And to see their change in the way they interact with you once you gain their trust.

People need people they can trust. And can draw strength from. And I gain so much strength from these kids that it's insane.