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Love Wins

a surprise text, a firm embrace, a caught glance across the room…it only takes a brief second, and i’ve fallen in love with you all over again.

my insides turn topsy-turvy, my lips part with that sudden intake of breath, my hands instinctively reach for yours so i can feel your heat against mine.

you are my love.

other times, it happens slowly. watching tiny fingers wrap themselves around your hand like an anchor, i feel the familiar pulse beating against my ribcage. this tiny beauty does not belong to us, yet i begin to see a vision of two who are one stretching their wings to cover those He’s given us. i see you taking on a role of Protector. Comforter. Fighter.

i smile, because the role fits. the little one in your arms fights against the rhythmic and firm heartbeat in your chest – the same heartbeat i’ve pressed up against in the middle of the night. the same heartbeat that caused my palms to tingle with anticipation and excitement five years ago. i know the warmth she feels because i’ve felt it myself.

and then your face breaks into a grin. you catch my eye – as you have so many times before – and you raise an eyebrow in an adorable yet absolutely irresistible way.

“maybe it’s time for us to have kids after all.”

my heart jumps in my throat, your words huge against the quiet surrounding us. our eyes hold words only we know – and my insides begin to dance. my hands reach for yours as i work to calm the fury of love let loose.

what i have to say belongs in the hushed hours of the morning – before the sun stretches itself across the sky. limbs tangled, we’ll speak of future things and laugh so we don’t cry out of fear. more than likely, i’ll be overwhelmed. more than likely, i’ll turn my head and lose myself in thoughts and questions. but i’ll always find your hand. reaching for it, feeling your heat rest against my skin, i’ll sigh and remember the moment in the coffee shop when i fell in love with you all over again.

i sat outside the church with adah and rose, their laughter ricocheting off the steel walls of the school. i was showing them pictures of russ’ cooking from my iPhone and they were tickled that a man did the cooking in my household.

my mind was elsewhere.

on the way up the hill, i noticed a woman doing laundry. nothing too out of the ordinary, except the water she was using.

it was dirty….no, it was filthy.

she sat there confidently, immersing each piece of cloth in the tiny stream running through the slum. the same stream i saw little kids use the restroom. the same stream i saw animals walk around and drink out of, bathe and rest. the same stream that stained my tennis burnt colors of browns and yellows.

the same stream most of these people in kibera got their water. 

i started talking to rose & adah about the water issue. i asked where they got their water – and they told me they fetched it every night. i asked where. eyes wide, they told me it was far enough to take a few hours – and sometimes this put them home after dark.

my heart flinched at the thought of these two precious girls walking the streets of kibera at night.

i asked if it were easier to just get water from kibera, and they nodded their heads. there are cleaner water stations – but those are sometimes too far. most often, the girls are required to fetch water after returning from school. most often, these girls are raped or beaten on the road. sometimes there’s no water left when they reach the well.

this seems serious. and it’s really easy to close our eyes and focus only on what we see and hear now. i have a glass of clean water in front of me. i only need to walk down the hall and get ice out of a filtered machine and fill my cup with water from a brita. my own hypocrisy is burdensome.

i’m close to tears just thinking about it. the injustice can be gripping at times – i complain about the temperature of my clean water. i complain about the taste of my clean water. i live in a society where companies design water bottles made of diamonds…and then fill the bottle with clean water.

something needs to be done.

the truth: americans will spend 450 billion dollars on christmas gifts this year.

it only takes 10 billion to provide the world with clean water.

our excess means their need.

today, we can change this.

a couple months ago, my friend Prudence contacted me about an idea. she wanted to blog for water – and i thought it was brilliant. water is something we all use – and any donation can be significant in the lives of those who don’t have access to clean water. reading her e-mail, i couldn’t help but think of my girls in the slum. the same time i’m walking down a lit hallway towards filtered water, they are braving the sun sinking below the horizon before they return from their daily walk for water.

a little can go a really long way.

you can give water – clean water – for Christmas.

will you join us?

go here to donate. what’s amazing about charity:water is that 100% of your donations goes directly to building a well in a community with no access to clean water. AND…charity:water works with the community – training them to be as sustainable as possible – which ensures the longevity of the project.

want to help spread the word? use the hashtag #PrudyChickH20 on twitter.

my dream: walking the hills of kibera and seeing the women experience what it’s like to use clean water for their daily chores. it may be farfetched. but i like to believe in the impossible.

——-

want to check out the other ladies writing with me today?

Prudence

Jenny Rain

Amy Sullivan

Mary Hess

Laura Leigh Parker

Kim Whitten

last week, when i posed a question on twitter about hope vs. skepticism, a response came quickly from someone who rarely speaks with me. i asked how do you remedy the loss of hope.

he replied, “read your Bible & ask God to teach you to trust Him.”

tears came quickly – big, fat, bitter filled and disappointed. i slammed my phone down on my nightstand and buried myself underneath the covers. closing my eyes, my thoughts scattered…my heart cowered in the corner – still raw with the hurt from the day.

really, God?  really? that’s all they have to say? i mean…you’ve been teaching me this whole “trust” thing for two years now. i get it. i know you’ll provide.

but what about right now?  what about when i can’t stop the tears – when my heart won’t come out from hiding – when the darkness seems unbearable?

i know you hold me. i know joy comes in the morning.

but what about when i’m faced with the blackness of night?

i was surprised by my reaction. in all reality, the advice given wasn’t wrong. but i don’t think it was right, either.

[and before you scroll down to hit the comment button to tell me how wrong i am...let me explain.]

i think, as christians, we are far too easily persuaded to throw bible verses at people, pat them on the back and turn away. i think, as christians, we expect the answer of “God is faithful – His will is perfect” to be absolutely sufficient in moments of struggle.

but what if God meant for us as christians, at that moment of struggle in someone’s life, to nod our heads, hold out our hands, and say, i get it.

the answer of “read your Bible” did nothing to renew hope. it frustrated me. since the moment of disappointment, there’d been verses flowing through my head. trust in the lord. i know the plans i have for you. comfort me so i can live. when two or more are gathered in my name.

i didn’t need scripture.

what i needed happened shortly after the first response. two or three people let me know i wasn’t alone. they dealt with the same questions. slowly, other people started joining in on the conversation. others shared insight. and whereas the first response felt like a shrug in my direction, what came after felt like a collective embrace. we aren’t alone in doubt – and doubt itself isn’t sinful.

doubt can even bring you closer to Christ.

this weekend, russ & i escaped to houston for a benefit with hundreds of prayers from friends covering our retreat. they knew how much we needed respite. russ catered the event, and we stayed with friends who work for the ministry that began the feeding center in kibera. walking in to the house, the view startled me. bright blue skies. wide windows. green grass leaning towards a bay of water. we were immediately greeted with hugs and “how are yous” and “make yourself at homes”

for the first time in quite awhile, my heart began to breathe. slowly, i could feel it peeking out of hiding. hope wasn’t as illusive as before. i could smell the possibilities of beginnings.

on sunday, i sat on the couch overlooking the sun stretching across the sky, reflecting its journey across the water. my own bones mimicked the exercise, relaxing against the deep cushions. i checked twitter and noticed a verse familiar to me posted on a friend’s feed.

it was from Psalm 51, and a verse God gave me almost two years ago when we faced a particularly disappointing season: God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.

i smiled. fixed on the verse, i couldn’t help but hear the quiet voice of Him – singing over my wounds.

i know, my daughter. i know what you’re facing – and i need you to know i’m doing something new. this chaos will not last forever. this is the year of my jubilee. wait. hold on. Rescue is coming.

i closed my eyes and rested my head against the pillow. my heart, following the motions of the sun and my bones, stepped out of the darkness and squinted against the light. i winced at the stretching – your heart gets stiff in hiding.

but taking another glance at the sun, i knew it was safe. joy does come in the morning, and with friends holding my hand and prayers lifted on our behalf, i knew the dawn was just over the horizon.

yesterday was one of the hardest days i’ve experienced in quite awhile. and as i was drifting off into sleep, i realized much of what used to bring me hope now just leaves me skeptical. i posted the question on twitter: how do i fix this? how do i allow myself to hope & dream & believe when it seems every time i do my heart ends up in the corner, hiding?

the response surprised me.

i thought i was alone. turns out there’s many of you struggling with the whats and hows.

i’m processing through some thoughts, and i’ll be writing about them. but this video, sent to me by a friend, spoke to my anxious heart. hope it brings a little peace to your morning.

what are some of your questions?