My friends laughed when I took a photo of their feet. They don't know how much I love African feet! I love the feet of babies . . . 
old ladies . . . 
growing boys . . . 
old men . . . 
pretty mamas . . . (photo removed by request)African feet go places. They tell stories. I wish the feet I meet could tell you all their tales.
I have been trying to tell you the stories, and some of them are full of hope and joy.But on Tuesday I heard a tale so sad I cried all the way home. It is a story too terrible for me to pass on to you right now. It is the story of a beautiful young woman whose tale of suffering broke my heart.
I have cared about these people as you probably do -- because they are God's children, physically and spiritually needy, and we want to help them. But now they are not just "people" to me. They have names, faces, and stories. And I love them.
When I'm able to tell you my friend's story, I will. Until then, join me in loving and praying for some of these real human beings who live in Atlanta, Georgia.
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