“Many people do not want to come to a war zone,” the young man said. But you did -- you ran in for us.” I smiled, and blinked back tears. “You are love,” he said. “Because love runs in.”
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As I remember the joy of today, 24 hours before leaving for the next leg of the journey to South Sudan, it occurs to me that soaking up the beautiful in our world isn’t optional; it’s essential. Because beauty gives us the vision, the energy and the reminder we need to keep pouring our lives into the brokenness.
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When we set broken bones and carve out cancers and suture wounds and alleviate pain, we are playing God in the best possible way. We are agreeing with God that while disease may be the present state in which we find the world, it is not the way it’s supposed to be, and often it’s not the way it has to be, and we do whatever we can to make it right.
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In December I'll be traveling to South Sudan to teach medicine. It's the most dangerous trip I've taken -- and it'll be my first time in a war zone. Please consider making a contribution to support the trip. By training 100 teachers, it'll impact the lives of 30,000 children!
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Just like that, as I stood there watching, the man’s soul left his body. He was still sitting up in bed, his eyes closed, his head wrapped in gauze. He looked like he was sleeping, and his body was still warm. But he was dead. He was gone.
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For years I said that because breast cancer kept me from traveling to Africa, the Somali girls were God's way of bringing Africa to me -- as if the Invisible Girls were a consolation prize. I was really wrong.
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