Tears in the night

I've had lots of moments when I have just thought, am I really driving this SUV, paying 80$ to fill it up? My kids get snacks what seems like every hour on the hour, they are clean and have at least a dozen or more outfits to choose from- all without holes or tears. There are no bugs burrowing into their feet because they don't walk around barefoot. We tuck ourselves into our king size bed in our air conditioned house... all the while, my thoughts are with them.

My thoughts go right to the kids at Return as I watched them shovel handful by handful that rice into their mouths to fill their bellies because they don't know when the next meal will be. My thoughts go to the children of the Karomajong that have worms in their private parts, jiggers burrowing deep in their feet.
My thoughts go to the mothers who put their children to bed on a dirt floor as the rain comes through their leaking straw roof. My thoughts go to the Karomajong women who work trying to make an honest income and maybe make a dollar or two every few days. My thoughts go to the women who have to make life or death decisions on how to feed their children, and what evils they feel like they only have to turn to to sell their bodies to feed their kids. My thoughts went to those women who talked to me about taking in neighbors' children as if, why wouldn't they take them in as their own after the children's mother died.
As I tucked our two into bed tonight though, I couldn't shake a moment I had holding sweet 3 year old Frank at Canaan's.

 I kept hearing him sniffle as the singing program went late into the evening. Finally I looked around his head on my chest when my arm felt wet.  He was completely asleep, yet crying. Even his face was twisted into a full cry. Tears coming down both cheeks.  A few minutes later, I looked over as Shelly was holding a 5 or 6 year old girl named Patience and she was crying too. Tears streaming down both cheeks and a look of pain on her face all while her eyes were closed.
I got to thinking. These kids do not know how to process the pain and trauma they have seen in their few short years of life.  But it comes out while they sleep. I talked to the house mom about it and she said it is very common. I thought about everything I have heard and read about "night terrors" in bringing home adopted children.  Just waking up screaming or crying in the night for no apparent reason.

How could we not open up our home? How could we not live differently? I want to have an attitude just like those women. Just so matter of fact. Of course we will take care of these children as our own. Why wouldn't we? God has given us much and also requires much of us. For 250$ a month, our family can feed 150 kids 4 times a month that may not get another meal. That is 600 mouths fed for just one less trip to the grocery store and gas station for us.
Now this is the road God has me on personally. It is not meant to inflict guilt or make you feel like this is what everyone should be doing... I am just processing out loud the millions of thoughts going through my head.
But as these faces are flooding my mind, all I kept coming back to were those shedding tears in the night, silently and alone. As their pain leaves their body while they are somewhat numb to it. It has changed me.