"It began in a cold, and dusty cement orphanage in the mountains of Haiti. It began as pulse, and through time the heart beat began, pump, pump, pump. Through the mountain sides of Nepal, the busy roads of India, the joy of Africa, and the blessings of Southeast Asia, the journey unfathomable, the heart swelled, the pump, pump louder than ever. And feet set to marble in the covering of America, my head spinning with all that was familiar and all that I yearned for. Confusion set in fast. The pump, pump softer, quieter, the chirpings of the crickets filling the room. And then a photo, a face, a memory, a moment, and pump, pump wilder, louder, violent until it ricocheted off the glass laden buildings, each cement sidewalk, and each picket fence so loudly a tidal wave came about. Pump, pump.
There's still kingdom to be had, holy dreams to be lived, an inheritance to be received, a heart still ripe for wreckage. And the pump, pump that's going to shake the world."
(From the pages of my journal August 2012)
Haiti
Nepal
Uganda
Cambodia
11 countries. 11 months. My heart is still overwhelmed. Still in awe. Still freshly tender to the work of his hand. Still in utter love at his goodness, his faithfulness, his beauty and his grace. From the cracks of aged cynicisam a dandelion of childlike faith has grown, a dependence and joy unlike any other. And the thankfulness countinues, the joy ever more, "For He satisfies the longing soul" (Psalm 107:9).
(Photos taken with permission from Jessica Gasperin)
