I arrived at Trust Home late last night, the place where we shelter, feed and educate 84 children who are also discipled daily. Today, we had the worst hail storm of my lifetime. Warning came as for any summer storm. The skies grew dark quickly, the wind picked up and the lightening flashed. Then, like a bucket spilling its contents, chunks of hail began battering the roof. Most were the size of a golf ball, but some approached the size of tennis balls. The sheer force and quantity of them was amazing. The sound was so loud, we could not talk with one another. Open "shutter" windows meant a soaking for whatever was on the inside of them and trying to shut them once the storm was in progress was actually dangerous. The assault continued for at least 30 minutes by most estimates. When it was over, ice chunks lay everywhere, completely covering the ground and accumulated into piles in some places. The crops in the adjoining lot were flat on the ground. The potted flowers all around Trust Home were bent and broken, all blooms gone. And--one more thing happened-- the puppy died. He was left out in the storm and the poor thing was literally stoned to death. I would have gone out for him if I had known. But I did not know. I just stayed safe and warm and dry in my room. He was unable to find shelter and no one helped him. The small boys cried for him. One cried all through the devotion time, as I held him in my arms. I cried a little bit too. I did not even know the puppy, but what a horrible thing to happen, and he could have been protected and saved so easily. But now it is too late to do anything-- too late for him. But maybe something else that I do can be significant, can make a difference-- before a hail storm comes and makes it too late.