I fought back unexpected tears as I stepped over the threshhold of this home. One sees photos of people living in shacks or one may even pass them by when travelling, but to actually step into one, is something I've never really thought about.
Our daughter, with her family, lives in Indonesia where they serve with a non-profit organization. When we went to visit them recently, she took me to this home (their neighbors) to take some things for the new baby. In this shack lives a woman, her daughter, about 6 teenagers/young adults and now a newborn baby. They told my daughter that their home (another island - where they come from) is many days away by ship. To have them understand how far Canada is, she told them that it is about 2 months away by ship! They were shocked.
In reflecting about this my daughter wrote, "Really, that's not very far ... when I think about where Jesus came from. He left perfection, absolute beauty, endless love, holiness, streets of gold ... and came to sin, filth, hate, brokenness and walked these dirt roads with sandalled feet. How far He came."
I've been thinking about this. We just celebrated Easter and the fact that Jesus came from heaven to walk on this earth and die for our sins, so that we can live in the home He is preparing for us. How far am I willing to go to let others know of the hope they can have? God is no respecter of people. He loves us all. No matter what mess we live in, He invites us to come to His banquet table.
"Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him and he with me." Revelations 3:20
Jesus paid the price.
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