Love looks like “Anka,” “Anay,” tooty ta, late night giggles in bed, dripping sweat w insanity, eating fish on bones with heads, little children, the “Son” coming out, emails from home, hugs, tears, curiosity in children’s eyes, facetime, hangouts and facebook chats, accountability, making coffee, doing dishes, cleaning the squatty, nose bites, smiles from strangers on the street, walks, sharing heart, it being as hot as a fresh cow pie on the fourth of July.
Ministry looks like a women's health night turned sex-ed, Pictionary during English class, mornings at the kindy, a pvc pipe gate, English class, dancing and singing, ninja, character development, testimonies, scrubbing and glueing a foam mat, praying, and playing games.
Grace looks like a diva down the squatty, translators, using others razors, fecal feet, rolling my eyes, obsessive wifi hunts, countable and uncountable nouns, wet floors, being discriminated against for being chinese, no smiley fries, chacs with socks, telling bible stories so they don’t appear to be from the bible, standing in spilled chicken bones and motor bike accidents.
Praise looks like sunny days, filtered water, running in the rain, claiming new places, new adventures, Malaysian food, squad mates becoming family, reading on bus rides, coma style sleeping, two showers a day, laundry, turtle time.
Life looks like a hot mess, different views, finding balance, defining emotions, vulnerability, intentional love, being where God is, breaking, be comfortable in my skin, speaking life, prophetic words, divine appointments, one day at a time.
