Caì en un hoyo grande

Translated, I fell into a giant hole today. No joke. We were walking in a different park than the one closest to our house. We were praying. There were gaps where the pavement was supposed to be. Exactly the size of my foot. I stepped straight into it and it came up to my thigh. I screamed. I scraped my other foot and it was gross. And I think I strained my toe, but I am ok. It really could have been a lot worse. Why, you ask, are there holes the size of a leg in a park? I have no answer. Although it is funny now, I really do feel that God saved me from further injury and yet another broken leg.
Today we prayed a lot, and found that our focus had shifted a bit from where God wants us. We were trying to fill our time. Trying to fill in a schedule so that we would feel like we were accomplishing something. But God keeps drawing us back to the street children. They are the ones that are forgotten by this world. They are the ones that sniff glue so they don´t feel hunger. They are the ones we played soccer with last night in the park - which is apparently illegal because they all ran the minute they saw the cops - yeah, oops. They have names, my new friend, Domingo, is probably about nine years old. We talked for a few seconds about names and then straight back to soccer.
The work of relationships is difficult because it is the hard way. If I had come here to build a house, I could say, look, I built a house, I accomplished something. But God wants us to be about his business of knowing the unknown. He wants someone to know their names. So maybe at the end of this summer, I won´t have pictures of a house, but I will have memories of the smile Domingo gave me yesterday. I will hold onto that.