It’s the last month of my eleven month journey.
Malaysia.
I’m sitting on the not-quite-cold-enough floor of the Praise Emanuel Children’s Home.
It’s suppose to be nap time, but the boys around me are quietly talking instead of sleeping.
One of them keeps singing the words “praise God…”
The lights are out.
The fans are on.
A storm is nearing.
The sky has gotten dark.
There occasional thunder.
I’m still hot.
I’m still recovering from nearly 48 hours of travel.
I’m constantly thinking and praying that I will have the energy to make it through the month.
I’ve been thinking a lot about love; over the last 10 months really.
I’ve thought a lot about being a Christian.
What it means.
What’s expected.
What it ‘looks like’.
And those things always stress me out.
And I have to very deliberately set them down.
In order to embrace love.
Pure love.
Because at the heart of Christianity, there is love.
And who cares about everything else.
Screw everything else.
Screw the politics.
Theology.
Expectations.
Rules.
Sects.
Denominations.
I just want to be able to love like Jesus did.
