Faith

The children....a smile...peeking in the room every time the door opens. Yelling, "Hi, Aunty," out the widow each time I pass by. Such joy. Where does such joy come from? I know what their answer is, the same as everyone's... "God said there would be trials. He suffered. If we must, we will do the same for God."
What amazing faith!

We had talked briefly, just a few times...mostly about her children and their curiosity with my white skin, but that was all. Then on Saturday as I was leaving, she came in my room to show me pictures of her town and her home. Every picture was of broken, burned piles of brick and dirt.. In November, the Christians in her northern town were the focus of the attacks. She explained that her home had been destroyed.

I remember hearing about this… and thinking, "Wow, how terrible." I am sure I prayed quickly but forgot. It was in my head as a tragic news story, a terrible event but not something personal or in my heart. Again and again on this trip my heart has ached for this state. It is no longer a news story, it is about my friends.

I wish my words could paint a better picture of this family. They are not crying; they are hopeful. They are praising God, knowin that God will provide.