about His goodness and His glory, despite my pain. I think about just this
week alone, how
week began in Budapest, with no plans, nowhere to sleep, no contacts to be
made. It began with a sitting in McDonalds, which has become our other home, as
we searched for hostels, hotels, churches, anywhere or anything that we would
be able to sleep at that night. After settling into a hostel just down the
block, we felt blessed. A bed after a few weeks camping in freezing weather was
better than life itself. Or so we thought…
That bed was quickly no longer the place I wanted to be. It
became something I climbed out of mid night, and never wanted to see again. It
became the reason we left the next morning to be back on the streets, back at
square one. Back at McDonalds, the search was on. Mike and I walked 4 miles or
so in the rain, freezing, in search of a hostel address, only to never find it.
When we got back, we were told we had a place. Ashley had been talking to a
missionary family, and after telling them of our night prior, they without
hesitation invited us in. For an hour, a night, a week. Little did they know,
they were our Godsend.
Greeted by a welcoming smile, hearing giggles of little
ones, and the warmth of a HOME was more than we were ready to handle. A dinner
of homemade corn chowder and bread hit the spot, not to mention a hot shower in
a real bathroom. And that wooden floor directly under my sleeping bag in the
middle of their living room, that was my comfort. It was safety to me. It might
not have been soft, or cozy, or inviting, but it was because that wood floor
was in a home where Christ lived, and that made it better than a bed could have
been in that moment.
This family has been God in human form to us, or shall I
even go to say they have been angels… I pray God blesses them abundantly, for
they have blessed us so…
