I thought I knew. We all think we know. What hope looks like. What light looks like. What dreams are. What joy is. What trust looks like. But this week I’ve found that we won’t ever know…until we have an honest encounter with what J E S U S looks like….in a place where we would imagine death looks like. & not in a church…..but in a heart. In many hearts. Or just one. Maybe in a township. Seeping out of shacks. Spilling out of broken pipes. Radiating out of smiles. Sparkling inside of eyes. Living inside of souls. Because of living hope.
Because of Christ BEING that living hope.
Breathing L I F E into what’s seemingly “dead” in this broken world….& in our own hearts.
To attempt to explain our trip I would say this: my heart is both intricately woven together & intricately torn apart. Sitting both full of hope & full of heartbreak in the South African dirt…because while the world sees darkness as the face of crime & death, my God comes in as the face of grace. The hope to the hopeless. The Father to the fatherless. In this truth, we no longer have to be filled with fear in dark times….but with hope…with CHRIST.
Our L I V I N G H O P E.
So in short, I’m not the same. My heart beats in longing for those I have left. But I trust that God will continue working in the hearts of those we came in contact with…& our own. He is a good, good Father…to ALL of His children. And not only have I more deeply fallen in love with my Heavenly Father, but also my blessing of a team, my 500 new little brothers & sisters in Christ, & a city that now has a chunk of my heart ingrained forever in its streets.