Two hundred and fifty

Two hundred and fifty.
250.
Two hundred and fifty.

That's the number I saw in my dream last night.

See, it's been in my head for a while. My friend Alli came from Cambodia and talked about the work they are doing there. She mentioned that the boys center, which had a regular attendance of less than 20, sometimes a few more and sometimes less, when we lived there, just after they opened their doors has grown. She said they have over 250 boys who they now know. There are more that come, too.

But that's the picture I see in my mind that just doesn't go away. It makes me smile to think of it. I get chills and butterflies in my stomach when I try to picture it in my mind.

I can hear their little feet running up the stairs in the building where the concrete walls amplify every sound. I can hear their laughter from every room as they play games and play with toys. I can imagine them standing outside the doors waiting for it to open each morning and running in, throwing off their shoes, and grinning at each other as they race for the room and hug the staff.

And last night I dreamed I was there with them.

I saw two hundred fifty faces, two hundred fifty smiles, two hundred fifty little hearts thumping with joy, five hundred little hands, and five hundred little feet. I could see it and smell it and hear it and my heart was full of joy.

I was there in my dream. I was right there with them all, laughing. And I woke up from it at 3am with my heart both heavy and joyful at the same time. I began to pray for these little souls. These little boys who have found a safe place to be little boys. A place to play. A place to grow. A place to be loved. A place to learn of Jesus. Of the God who created them and knows their struggles and knows their joy. Of the Jesus who gave his life for their lives and asked for nothing in return.

Somewhere in the depths of my sleepy mind, I saw this as a promise from the Lord that I will see this soon. I'm not ready to talk about that yet since I'm still processing it myself, but I knew at that moment it was true and it brought me incredible joy. I also found an overwhelming desire to pray for them and the leaders there. And I did at that moment. Sometimes it feels like all I can do for them from here. And then I realize that it is no small thing. The God who is here listening to my prayers is also there holding their hands. He loves them and loves for me to pray to him on their behalf.

So of course he loves it when others pray, too. I need you to join me. Pray to the God who sees.  Pray to the God who hears our thoughts even before we pray them. Pray to the God who died for us. For them.

Let's lift up the staff in Cambodia, the financial supporters around the world, and the children who are receiving just a touch of God's love every time they enter this safe place.

There is power in our prayers. Let's pray now and see what mountains He will move in Cambodia.