Driving through the village, I take a second glance at the dog lifelessly laying in the dirt. People carelessly pass by. This dog and his life doesn’t have any significance to them. My heart skips a beat. As if I saved my heart beat for him to have.
If only they knew the love and loyalty you had the capacity for, little guy.
If only their eyes saw love in you instead of fear and aggression.
Walking through the village and these women stumble past us. A bottle in one hand, and brokenness in the other. They’re the mothers of the children we minister to. They don’t have jobs. They’re so drunk they can barely stand up straight, and their physical bodies mirror the pain and struggling their souls are burdened with. Their children live in doubt. Doubting when or even if their mothers will be home. Doubting when their next meal will be. Doubting their worth and value.
If only they could be given the kind of love they deserve. If only they could be reassured that everything will be alright.
“Keep the blinds closed and lock the doors,” he says. Our host reminds us that although we may feel safe, we are not. Nearly every house is fenced in, because otherwise it’s an open invitation, what’s mine is yours. Theft and crime are high and unpredictable. People are desperate to make ends meet, and being a foreign white woman, I’m the perfect target.
If only I didn’t have to live in fear and question, taking extra precaution not to make myself noticeable or vulnerable. If only I could trust people the way my childlike heart wants to.
If only they knew the love of the Father. The care and the comfort, the freedom and the promise.
Jesus teaches us that although this world and its people are flawed, THERE IS HOPE.
That amidst all of it, He can save us.
This is the World Race. You see things you can’t unsee. You feel emotions you can’t unfeel. But we’re out here amongst the darkness and deprivation of Africa because we believe in the Father. We believe that someone needs to share His light, His freedom, His love.
If only you gave God the chance, He could give you the kind of love you deserve. The kind of love you were designed for. The kind of freedom you’ve be longing to find.
But people can’t know this unless we tell them. So that’s why we’re here. That’s why I’m writing this. So that those people no longer have to say “if only I knew.” They can now say, I know Jesus, and He’s given me a new life, a better life.
They can now have Faith in one hand, and fullness in the other.
