This past week, I wrapped up a CASA case on eight of nine kids I’ve celebrated holidays and shared a shoulder with. It was an assignment the court passed down more than a year ago.

What began as one abused child, DCS investigations revealed was more of a family ordeal.

Would you be willing to accept all nine? The Judge wanted to know. Do you have the volunteer time?

How can one deliberate over what we can do, when the need is right there staring back at you? These little ones ranged in age, from 15 to two and their curious little minds wanted to know, ‘would you leave us too’?

The children had been whisked away from school in these wrinkled up clothes and tattered shoes. No one could question if neglect was happening; these allegations appeared uncomfortably true.

I caught a glimpse of the eighteen little eyes, peanut butter smeared on their chins. My heart couldn’t say ‘no’, instead I asked, ‘where do we begin’?

This is a proud moment, indeed, and yet I also struggle with questions of my own neglect to the neighbors around me. Sometimes it’s easier to serve ‘there’ instead of right ‘here’. It’s more fun to fly away or be where my friends are, than it is to stare out of the window-framed picture on my wall and see a neighborhood in need. I have more questions than answers, like ‘where in the world begin’?

And then I sit with the steam coming off my coffee cup and peer into the sweet soul of such kind hearts. Sometimes they remain more comfortable staying at the surface of their story when the moment is still too tender to unearth the truth. And that’s okay, as long as I am present to hear the beginning and see the end.

Sometimes we fail to serve ‘here’ because we want to be ‘there’. Yet, if you truly believe the Almighty God put your hands and heart ‘here’, on the block you call home, in your cubicle where most of a day is spent, and with this specific circle of friends for His glory to be revealed, then you have no use looking over ‘there’. That’s what I’m learning.