my act of defiance
Coming to the end of a long week — actually a long season of weeks. A three day weekend is looking mighty fine at the moment.
This morning, however, I was struck by a quote from a displaced person somewhere in the Middle East.
Honestly, I can't remember if this person was Syrian or Iraqi. I'm fairly certain it was one of the two. I don't remember the story. I wish I did.
Trust me when I say that there are a lot of stories. Too many stories. I've had the opportunity to hear several recently as I've interacted with colleagues who are working on the ground in some of the most difficult places of the world.
Stories of suffering, hunger and thirst. Holding on to hope. Tragedy and triumph. Stories of faith and perseverance in the journey. Stories of events that I can't begin to wrap my head around, although I think it's important to try.
What I'm remembering this morning is not the specifics of any particular story, but rather a phrase that I would very much like to live my life by. A phrase that grabbed my attention when I heard it and I felt it right to memorize, recite and internalize. I need this as a marker by which to live my life.
The application of this simple quote can be applied to almost every situation in life — and it resonates with my rebellious, willful and disobedient heart.
This phrase embodies everything (and I mean everything) it means to believe and follow Jesus.
This morning I reflect on a deep, life-changing, transformative lesson that I learned from an unknown refugee somewhere in the Middle East. A person who faces unimaginable loss at the hands of great evil and yet had the courage to make this statement:
