Walking through the house, I called out for my mom. I was carrying a heavy load of personal hurt that was growing increasingly painful, and I was hoping for a little magical-motherly-advice on what I should do about it.
Slipping into the bathroom of our single-wide mobile home on the orphanage property, I pulled the thin plastic door closed behind me. I was barely holding myself together and, not wanting to alarm anyone else by my internal battle becoming an external display of tears, I sought out the only place that had some measure of privacy. I fell to my knees and pressed my eyes tightly shut.&
It seemed like just another typical day at the start of my spring semester of Bible college as I navigated the main hall on my way to class. A few yards ahead of me I spotted a small group of guys huddled together and laughing boisterously about something, and there at the center of the pack was the most popular guy on campus.
I stood in the street next to the idling taxi cab, feeling small and unbearably vulnerable. It was still early in the morning and the rising sun fell over the city of Kunming, China, like a thin blanket of warm, golden haze.
MY PRINCE, MY CASTLE, & MY KINGThe train rolled steadily along as I watched droplets of rain gently tap the window beside me. I watched one English town after the next pass by in a blur, feeling a combination of intense apprehension and joyful excitement. After a year of praying, planning, and dreaming, I was finally on my way to Bible college in the breathtaking Lake District of E
As we placed our exercise mats on the floor, my friend and I were excited for another workout with our favorite class instructor. Tricia’s demeanor was always warm and encouraging, her teaching style was intense — constantly pushing us past our comfort zones, and, being a Christian, her music choices were markedly different from other group classes.
It took only a moment for the joyful contentment in my heart to disappear. I was jarred into a panic by the blaring siren and flashing lights suddenly in my rearview mirror. Oh no! No, no, no! What did I do? After years of driving, I had never been pulled over… Until now. I resisted the tears that began to well up, pulled off the road,
Iwatched in dismay as rainwater began flooding into our 20 by 8 foot container house—again. Heavy tropical rains had cascaded down on our tiny Haitian home for several nights in a row. And every night, I went through the same urgent routine: throw down two of our four towels in the c
As I drove down Main Street, the late hour and the quiet of our small town made it easy for me to ponder on the uncomfortable burden on my heart. God had opened my eyes to how self-focused my life had become. I lived alone, cooked whatever I was in the mood for, worked from home, and filled my evenings and weekends with personal projects and whatever else I wanted to do.
The living room was empty and I sat alone in the suffocating heat. I had lived in Haiti for more than a year already and had found ways to deal with the humidity, constant sweating, and even the rats, bats, and bugs.