Rocks

Okay, I no longer think I have a bad case of jet lag. Or, more precisely, I do not think that is all I have. You see, in addition to being tired and stiff with a head ache, sore throat and fever I am now on the verge of hacking up a lung. And although I try to be tough when I am sick (I am a MOM, after all) I am getting close to the end of my rope. Today I go in to the doctor to see if I picked up something in Africa or on the flight home or if my body is just throwing a fit from the time zone changes.

But today as I was moaning and groaning I was reminded of some people we saw in Lusaka. These are people we passed every time we left the farm or returned to it. They sit along the side of the road from sun up to sun down breaking rocks. Men, women (most with babies on their backs) and young children sit in the hot sun breaking rocks to try to sell for the equivalent of $1.00 per bag. That is their life - everyday. So although I am feeling completely miserable, I have the hope of feeling better in a week or so. But for the rock breakers there is no hope for a change in their day. Or their future.

The next time you walk down a gravel driveway, pour cement for a project or drive by a giant boulder please join me in praying for the rock breakers in Lusaka. Or, better yet, pray for them right now.