What about this one?

See that green gate straight ahead.

That’s ours.

(Yeah, the one that when you look closely, it kind of looks like a murder scene, with the smeared red paint all over it. For once - it wasn’t the children painting on something they shouldn’t – it was the landlord! And I’m not really sure what he was planning for that one, but I’m hoping the reason we have doodles on our gate is simply because the paint ran out).

Behind that gate is a large compound, twenty beds, piles of stinky shoes, a charcoal stove that almost always has a pot of beans boiling on it, and 13 boys who proudly put on Doors t-shirts every day as they go to school, eat 3 meals a day, play football, dance their hearts out, worship endlessly, and sleep each night under a roof.

Now I’d like you to direct your eyes to that big, rusty, red box on the right side of the picture. In Uganda, we call this a container. Containers usually make a home in Uganda after they’ve brought some sort of imported goods or shipments of donations. This one lives at the end of our driveway. This particular container is empty, but here you can find people living in containers, having workshops in containers, or even making restaurants out of these containers (they get creative!).

This rusty red container usually serves no great purpose. But in the past few months, it has become significant in my eyes. It started when I was on my way home one night and it was around 11pm. Most of Ggaba was already asleep. As the car’s lights hit the container, I saw the feet underneath the container.

Three pairs of dirty, beat up, cut, calloused, and fat feet.

Street kids.

They’re feet are easy to distinguish them by – not many people walk the amount that these kids do, in the places they do, without shoes.

The three children had wedged themselves between the container and the ground and were fast asleep.

I froze.

Mallory wants to pick them up, take them to that gate that’s 10 yards away, clean em up, feed them, and let them sleep.

Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. And I had to drive by reluctantly. I began asking around, very discreetly too. I wasn’t ready to find every boy in Ggaba dressed up like a street kid sleeping outside of our gate the next night.

They are young. The oldest one is 8. They’ve never been to the city, which is good, because that means they are sober. And it’s now been a month or two since I’ve started asking my questions, trying to get the truth of their stories.

I watch the man who sells scrap at the end of our street, who occasionally lets them sleep among the piles of scrap metal.

I hear from the bar tender at the corner a daily update of where they slept the night before, as she lets them come in in the morning and pick up the bottles to go and sell.

There’s a woman who sells vegetables outside of our house. She’s at work at 7am with her baby, leaving every night at 11pm. She struggles. Today I watched her split what little food she and her son had, with Joab, one of the boys. 

I’m watching them, and they are all looking at me.

And I do nothing.

Because behind that gate- there are no empty stomachs, and people are busting out of our home. There is no empty bed, and there are thirteen boys who used to sleep on the sidewalks of Kampala in rice sacks.

It’s kind of ironic. Nobody has told them that the boys that pass them and bring them food everyday used to be in their situation.

Because they’ve seen me do nothing, and they don’t want to get their hopes up.

I’ve searched my mind. I’ve prayed. But I’m not sure that I’m ready to turn our living room into another bedroom.

I feel like I should be able to do something, and as I watch my neighbors give what little they have to the boys, I feel them all looking at me. “Don’t you have a home that helps these children?” It’s the unspoken question.

I don’t know what to do. And I think that’s ok.

This is when people start saying, “You can’t help every child” as they try to comfort me. 

But I'm a big believer that ministry is simply loving the people that God puts right in front of you. 

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." -Matthew 25

"The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these." -Mark 12:31

I don't know what God wants us to do. It seems pretty simple in the passages above. But it would be crazy right?! 

What about the finances? The beds? The space? The food? The 29 children who could camp outside of our gate the next night? 

But I think God is asking, "What about this one?" 

And so I'm asking back, "What about this one?" 

“I don’t want to be _________________ any longer.”

“I don’t want to be _________________ any longer.” 

Fill in the blank. Sinful. Angry. Single. Selfish. Hurt. Alone. Dry. Sick. Busy. Here.  

There’s a word that we can all put in that blank. Something that we all tell God that we don’t want to be... 

And it’s usually followed by a sentence that is cried out in frustration or desperation, that goes something like this....

“God, I want to be ________________!”  

Content. Joyful. In community. There. Married. On the mountaintop. With my friends. 

I wonder what would happen if we all stopped asking God when we are going to get what we want, and we are we going to stop being what we don’t want to be? 

And instead we ask him to show us what we have now that is of value? 

When we speak sentence #1, it brings dissatisfaction. 
When we speak sentence #2, it defers our hope. (Proverbs 13:12) 
When we ask Him to show us what we have now that is of value - it can only create praise and humble us to worship. 

Worship is where we render our hearts to be transformed into His likeness. It doesn’t come from dissatisfaction, or hoping that when I get this or reach this place then things will be better. 

We get too caught up in trying to fight who we are not made to be. We spend too many hours praying not to be something or somewhere. 

Any time Jesus healed sickness in the Bible, He did not look at the sick person and say “Oh, you are very sick.” He looked at them and said, “You are healed!” 

When Jesus tells the disciples to feed the five thousand, He doesn’t tell the disciples “Not enough food!” He says “We already have what we need!” 

He didn’t look at the repentant thief hanging on the cross next to Him and say, “Now you! You were particularly sinful.” He says “You will surely be with me in paradise!” 

He speaks who He created us to be, who He died for us to be -- NOT what we can see that we are in that moment. 

Because we live by faith and not by sight. 

Proverbs 23:7 As a man thinketh in his heart, so he will be... 

I want to think about myself the way that Jesus thinks about me. I want to speak about myself the way that Jesus speaks about me. I want to believe about myself, what Jesus believes about me. That’s true humility. Seeing yourself how Jesus sees you. 

I respect our older boys in our home beyond what words can ever describe. They are young men that walk with such faith, and are pioneering what the Doors home stands for. They’re like that first child in the family that the parents are still learning when that child falls you don’t need to always rush to their side.  The parents are still learning that when that teenager asks to go to the library to study but has on her party clothes - you should probably say no. They are the guinea pigs. 

We all know that. They know that. They rejoice through it, and most days do it gladly.

When I see one of them struggling with something, or hear a conversation going on about girls (that can sometimes happen when you have large amounts of teenage boys under one roof) I can begin to think, “What if they don’t turn out ok?” 

I see their sin, and I want to panic! “What if we’ve messed this up?!” I want to fight that sin so that they can be who God has made them to be.  (Disclaimer: I know they aren’t perfect, I’m not that dumb...) 

Today I sat down to pray for these boys, and God spoke to me and said, “Speak over them as I speak over them. See them as I see them.” So instead of laboring hours praying “Jesus, let his eyes be fixed on you and not on girls.” or  “God, take away his disobedience.”  I just proclaimed, “Man of righteousness, man of humility, man of gentility, man of who serves the Lord with all He is, man who loves the Lord with all that’s within him...” and so on and so on....and I let the praise come forth. 

Because I don’t want to spend too much time acknowledging who Satan is trying to make these boys, I would rather spend my time agreeing with God for who He has already made them to be. 

That’s how we sin abolished in our lives and that’s when we see certain struggles coming to an end. When we combat them with praise. Proclaiming who God is and who we are, renews our minds.  

This phrase is beautiful and you’ve probably heard it before, but let me tell it to you again. 

We have to stop telling God how big our problem is, and tell the problem how big our God is. 

Rest Assured

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen. -Hebrews 11:1 

What does it mean that faith is the evidence of things unseen? 
That there are things that are unseen and the only reason that we know those things exist is because of faith. 

These past few weeks I’ve seen this awesome vision that the Lord brought about called Doors Primary school start it’s second full year of school. I’ve seen beautiful children come abounding into school with joy and relief to be back. And I’ve seen a devoted and passionate headmistress walk through the slum in her high heels and drag those children back to school who didn’t make it the first few days. 

And I’ve seen busyness over every page in my planner. I’ve seen sunken looks on kids faces as I give them snappy answers. I’ve seen beautiful joy exploding out of two friends that spent 4 days in my house and blessed me abundantly. I’ve seen a two week battle with a stubborn child over whether or not he wants to use his mosquito net be resolved with laughter and tears. I’ve seen the death of too many sweet children, and I’ve seen life abounding. 

Our sight is undoubtedly one of the greatest ways that we perceive where we are, who we’re with, and what’s going on around us. What we see with our own two eyes can comfort us, appease our worries, or depending on the situation really freak us out. It’s one of our five senses that we live and perceive by every day. But for the believer, God has given us a totally different sense to live by and that’s faith... 

I rely too much on what I see in my own life every day to determine whether or not I’m being faithful. I’ve been challenged this past week by realizing that when I see the fruit of my relationship with Christ, or see myself having actions that I deem faithful, I feel faithful, and I feel assured that I’m okay. When I wake up and get in the Word before crazy days start, on days when I control my tongue and pray for somebody rather than slander them, on days where I am singing and praising and praying in the Spirit all day long, on days when I am moving with God and I know it’s step by step, move for move --- those days are days where I can see the fruit of my relationship with Christ and in turn I am assured that I’m being faithful! 

But what about the days where that quiet devotion in the morning doesn’t happen? Or the days where I’m questioning God because I can’t see why I am where I am? Or the days where it is so hard for me to love people that I would rather go to the dentist and have a root canal and tell them to go easy on the Novocain? 

What about those days? Did Satan come in with a vacuum cleaner and devour all my faithfulness? The days where I can’t see myself acting in faith or see the fruit of my relationship with Christ...I feel unassured that it’s there. They can make me believe that I am falling away. 

Then there are seasons of walking through the fire. There are seasons of pain and loss. There are seasons of dryness. There are seasons of disobedience. There are all types of seasons that may be days, weeks, months, or years...Seasons where we don’t see our faith, and we quickly divert to measure ourselves as doing wrong, as unfaithful. 

But in Hebrews it says that faith is the substance of things hoped for. Faith makes God’s promises over us have substance!!!  Faith makes my relationship with Christ have substance! Faith is the evidence of what we can not see! Even when we are looking into our own lives to see if that relationship is there - should we do that? Or should we have faith that the relationship is there and it’s thriving? 

Let’s talk about our own faiths for a moment. So many days when we are in the process of being refined (which is constantly!) we don’t see our faith and we lose assurance and immediately we begin to doubt and question and worry and judge ourselves (when we can’t see our faith we lose faith that it’s there). When we can’t see our relationship with God, we doubt that it’s there and we doubt that it’s working. 

But what God has been teaching me is that He is always tilling the soil and we don’t need to judge ourselves at all. We need to come before Him with meekness - meekness is giving God the power to judge you without defending yourself. We need to seek the Lord for what the condition of our heart is. He is the only one who can ever see the condition of our heart and our Spirit CLEARLY and righteously. 

Upon asking Him to give us a clean heart, to renew our minds, and to love us that very day -- then we need to keep walking and trust Him. Trusting that the condition of my relationship with Him is right, and that maybe I’m not “seeing” the fruit of my faith for the day because really God is teaching me to live by faith. To trust the unseen instead of trusting what’s right in front of me. 

To have assurance that my faith is there even when I can not feel it or see it. 

I’m rejoicing on the days where I’ve come meekly before Him and the fruit of my relationship with God appears to be unseen to me, because I do have assurance that that means that my faith is being faithful. 

I don’t need to see the fruit of my faith. I don’t need to see why I am where I am. I don’t need to see how faithful I am being for the day. These beautiful eyes that God has gifted us with need to be focused on seeing Jesus, and when they are fixed on seeing Jesus that’s all that people are going to see in you too. 

Cleanse your heart and come surrendered before Him and then... 

When you can’t see your faith, you can be assured that you are living by it and it’s being built up every day. 

When you can’t see why you are where you are, you can be assured that it’s because you are relying on God and that His purpose is deeper than what you can see. 

When you are in a season where you’ve been fighting to even feel like you’ve ‘got’ a little bit of God and you don’t feel like you’re doing anything right because you’re not getting an answer, you can believe that you are right where you need to be and that the ways that God is teaching you to trust Him are increasing your dependence on Him every day. 

The mere act of looking to what is unseen causes us to live an undeniably life of faith. Have assurance in that today.

We Remember

Today is our 2 year anniversary of bringing in our eight oldest boys. It’s been two years full of hard work, laughter, tears, frustration, and pretty much every emotion you can have - we’ve all had it. We want to celebrate, we want to rejoice, we want to give thanksgiving to God for all that He has done in our family. And we will, but unfortunately, today has become bittersweet. 

Today we mourn the death of a child that we all knew and loved, Yohaya. 

I didn’t like most of my interactions with this boy. He started doing heavy drugs when he was 6, and now 3 years later he has been suffering from the consequences. He often overdosed and would end up in our home for a few days. His words were always full of anger unless he wanted something. He has bitten me, beat me, and cursed me many a time. He’s made many small trips into our home, where he is showered in love and affection by our boys - his good friends from the streets, and then he would always run away and usually not empty handed. 

Yet, we all loved him deeply. There are few times I have ever seen the war inside of him come to a halt, and see peace overcome. Yohaya loved to color - and I could watch him color for hours as his mind escaped the harsh reality that he lived. A sweetness would come about him, that I have never seen in him any other time. He would proudly show me each picture he would shade, and in a normal 2 day trip into our home, I would have to get at least 3 empty coloring books for him to color in. You could see joy in him. Peace over him. Contentment. This is who Yohaya really was, and we are honored that we are part of the few people that ever got to see him. 

I find myself angry as I think of this little boy’s death. Not at God. God is faithful. This little boy was tormented his whole life. He suffered from abuse, from addiction, from anger, from living on the street, and from the poison that someone fed him that killed him. 

I’m angry because I know that there was something better for him than that on this earth. He never reached it. 

So instead of a glazed-over hallelujah look on all of our boys faces today, I see a righteous anger. I see fiery passion in their eyes. I see determination to dedicate themselves even harder to prayer for the children on the street. I see themselves sitting down on a Saturday and willing themselves to work harder in school and use the gifts they’ve been given to give back one day. 

I see young men that no longer need their lives to be fought for - they are redeemed, sealed, and pressing in to the Lord- but are ready and yearning to fight the good fight of the faith. 

I see young men who are taking the life that Yohaya lost and letting it fuel a fire for God’s righteousness to rain down in the darkest places. 

Yohaya, we love you. You have blessed us. 

Poor People Are Cool.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”-Matthew 5:3

I have read this verse at the beginning of Matthew quite a few times.  I never gave it a lot of thought, except for the few times as a kid I remember thinking – “Gosh this sounds sad, I hope I’m always happy and have plenty of chicken nuggets.”  Valid thought as a child…

 It wasn't until I moved to Uganda and met the poor in spirit, the great street child theologians, the 3-year old preachers of Jesus that this verse became real to me and wrecked me forever.

A lot of us have heard the stories or even experienced the great awakening of God happening among the persecuted, the poor, and the desperate around the world.  I’m not writing this page to just bring a single, apathetic tear or the token- “bless their hearts.”  I don’t want you to feel sorry for the poor in spirit; I want us to hunger and thirst with them, learning from their example.  I’m writing on this page in much agony and pain, begging God to help America become “poor in spirit.”  Now please don’t misunderstand me, I’m not promoting the so-called “poverty gospel.”  I’m not saying move out of your house and into a cardboard box (unless God is actually calling you to do so- don’t put Him past it!).   I am not praying for my country to break out in civil unrest, experience famine, or massive epidemics. I just think there is something very fundamental that we can learn from the poor, something that will change us, something that will leave us desperate for the riches they do have. They will teach us about the Kingdom of Jesus Christ.

Jesus tells a story of a wedding feast (Luke 14: 15-24).  The master of the house prepares a wonderful feast; he wants to fill his house with guests.  He sends out his servants to invite the guests in.  The problem is the first people he invites say no!  They have all these excuses for not coming. 

“Sorry Jesus, I just bought a field, and I must go see it.”

“Sorry, just bought some new oxen, on my way to try them out…”

“Sorry, I just got married, I can’t come.”

When the master of the house finds out that everyone refused, he becomes angry and orders his servant to quickly go out into the streets and invite the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame.  The rich and affluent were too busy; they had better things to do.

I thought God was sending me to Uganda to help people and “end poverty”.  In reality, God called me to Uganda to sit and eat at the banquet table with the poor, to learn from their desperation, to weep and mourn, to hunger and thirst, to become poor in spirit.  I think Heidi Baker says it best in her book “Compelled by Love”-

“The poor will never say no to a feast.  They will come to eat spiritual food and to eat physical food.  But the Lord is setting out a spiritual banquet for His Western bride too.  The challenge in the West is that many are too full.  We have smorgasbords, buffets, and restaurants at almost every corner.  So, people in the Western world are often just not hungry.  In my travels to the Western world, I see that the church is often surviving on spiritual crumbs.” –Heidi Baker

“The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me.” – Matthew 26:11

We are called by God to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and learn from their poverty in spirit.  Maybe that’s why we will always have the poor with us, because the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to them and we must have our eyes opened to the Kingdom.  Jesus has set out a banquet for each one of us; He is still inviting people in.

I don’t want to be too busy or preoccupied with the things of this world that I miss out on the invitation to be with Jesus.  In reality, we are all poor and orphaned until we enter into the family of God.  When Jesus looks at us he doesn't see rich or poor, African or American, liberal or conservative, hipster or prep, young or old; He sees His kids.  He wants to be with His children forever, and He expects that we will drop everything to be at His banquet table.  Being poor in spirit does not mean that we are miserable and miss out on all the fun and chicken nuggets.  Being poor in spirit is the great awakening you have been longing for, it is the key to your personal revival, it is the beginning of a glorious forever with Him.

"I think the work of the Church in this developed and rich Western Hemisphere is more difficult than in Calcutta, South Yemen, or other areas where the needs of the people are reduced to the clothes needed to ward off the cold, or a dish of rice to curb their hunger- anything that will show them that someone loves them.  In the West the problems the poor have go much deeper; the problems are in the depths of their hearts."- Mother Teresa

Yes

There’s beautiful chaos in this house. 

An hour or two of laughter every night before bedtime. Edwin running around screaming “ya man!” Somebody is always telling Baby Sam to go put on pants. Fervent times of prayer and worship when we come together as a family. Uncle David and Timothy are always worshipping in the living room. When one of our five dogs barks, they all bark, and then Ivan also barks with them. Sick patients that provoke arguments amongst the boys of who is going to have the honor of giving them their bed. Endless hours of football discussion that always seem to go on right under my window. Morris’ cackle as he runs around the house. Bwanika’s ‘no’ is always a ‘yes’ that comes with a joke and a good laugh. The congregation of hungry boys that crowd around the charcoal stove every night before dinner time. The laughter, the arguments, the prayers, and the joyful shouting that comes from this home can be overwhelming - but it’s also life bringing. 

God never asked me to say yes to living in a home with 17 other people. 

I was never asked to agree to being bitten, beaten, and spat on by a 9 year old little boy who lives on the streets. 

He never asked me to say yes to suffering, to being uncomfortable, or to weariness. 

And He has never said, “Mal, you are going to live in Uganda for 18 years. You are going to live in Ggaba for the first 4 years. I’m going to use you to open up a home for former street children. You will see Me bring in 184 children. I will move you out onto a big piece of land where Doors will build a boarding school, a clinic, a church, and have many small businesses throughout the slums. Is that ok with you?” 

He’s never asked me that. 

“Will you live for Me today?” 

“Will you love Me with all you have today?” 

“Will you let Me love you right now?” 

“Will you believe in Me today?”

That’s what He asks of me. He’s never asked me to say “yes!” to some giant, awesome life plan that He has spelled out every minute of that involves glorifying Him with every minute of it. 

Instead He asks me to say “yes!” to glorifying Him every minute by letting Him love me so that I can love and believe in Him and live out an amazing, awesome life plan that I am pretty clueless to, but He leads me through.

I say “yes” to believing in Him, and “doing the works the He does.” (John 14:12) Jesus never started a home for children that were homeless during his three and a half years of ministry. He never started a school for children who were starving and had no education. He never employed women so that they wouldn’t have to prostitute themselves.  He was never so caught up in ministry that He didn’t love. 

He made disciples and He loved. He taught people how to receive their daily bread. 

Our heart at Doors is not about how many children we can get off the street, or how many children we can sponsor out of Namuwongo, or how many women we can help so that they can feed their families. Our heart is discipleship. It is spreading the love of Jesus everywhere we walk. It is teaching every person in our Doors family that God is the giver of everything good and that if we say ‘yes’ to Him that we will have all that we need. That is they left Doors Ministries tomorrow they would still have everything that they need - because they are rooted in the Word and in the love of Christ. 

What God has to give to each woman, man, and child we meet is so much important than what we could ever give physically. Jesus said that the poor would always be with us - that’s why it is important to give something that overcomes poverty - the pure, undefiled love of Jesus Christ and fellowship with the Holy Spirit. We have to say YES to receiving it! 

I say “yes” to being loved by Him and to trusting Him wherever He may lead - even to the ends of this earth! I say ‘yes’ to loving Jesus so that when that street kid bites me and my anger and outrage flare up in my heart and hateful eyes look back at me wanting to see my anger and hate, the only emotions these children are used to, my anger and outrage are squashed in my heart and God’s love and forgiveness are seen. 

We are quick to make our life plans. We like to seek out the whole picture to see if it sounds good and exciting to us. We often don’t reach God’s promises for us because we are too busy trying to compromise with God because we think we know what is best for us. 

I don’t want to miss out on a single moment with God, not a single blessing, not a single encounter with Him, not a single place where He wants me to walk with Him. If God had shown me two years ago where I would be right now, I’m not sure that I would have said “yes.” I think I would have wanted to compromise. I would have wanted to know my end date. 

A few weeks ago, a sick friend came and stayed at our house from the slum. She found herself among the middle of our beautiful chaos - screaming, shouting, cackling - and she looked a little overwhelmed. I quickly apologized for the children running around making massive amounts of noise.

“No,” she said, “God has given you well.” 

He has. It didn’t start with a yes to ministry or a life plan. 

It was a yes to being in love with Him. 

It’s been better, harder, and more joyful than I could have ever imagined. 

And it’s only getting started! 

We never cry alone

Last week the Doors home turned into a bit of a hospital. We had many patients from Namuwongo slum staying with us, and one of them was a six year old little boy who had been badly burned five days before. He’s in top class (kindergarden) about to go into Primary one, but had been in the village over the weekend.  His whole wrist was covered in a nasty scab, packed with herbs and local medicine when he was brought to school. 

I took him to the clinic with a lot of uneasiness in my stomach. I do not have a good reputation in taking kids to the clinic. There has been some fainting in the past, some severe wooziness, and even the occasional day when I have tossed my cookies. 

We sat in the waiting room waiting for the nurse to come and clean the wound, knowing that she was going to have to scrub off all the herbs and the scabs, and I’m sure that I was more nervous than he was. The nurse came and got him, and looked at me and said, “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.” (they know me there). 

I went in. I held down a screaming, thrashing, bleeding child as the nurse cleaned his burn. At the end, with his arm wrapped up and tears still streaming down his face, he looked at me and whispered “thank you.” 

We celebrated that it was over with juice and a mandazi (think doughnut) and I thought about how painful it would have been for me to sit outside that room and listen to him scream and wail while I just sat there. Even though I wanted to vomit, and he poured blood all over one of my favorite shirts, and I felt like possibly the most cruel person in the world pinning him down to have his burn cleaned....It would have been worse if I had sent him alone. 

God doesn’t send us in to cry alone. He doesn’t wait outside the hospital room. He holds us in His arms even when we are thrashing and screaming and the world has burned us. 

He doesn’t send us into this world and think to himself “Ohh this is gonna hurt....." and then simply leave us to bear the pain.

He came down with us. He got our blood all over Him. 

He’s in the present. He can’t bear the thought of watching and listening to us suffer without holding us with all the strength that He has. When unbelief and sin entered the world, He knew it was going to hurt. 

He holds us in His arms until that day comes when the pain is over, and even though we may have suffered, and even though this life hurts, and even though there are days where we don’t understand the pain or why something has happened to us -- I know when my earthly body fades I will look my Daddy in the eyes and say “Thank you” and all my tears will be washed away. 

There are days when my heart feels like a hot mess, literally sweating over everything good and bad inside of it. And there's not many feelings to me that are worse than being clean and getting sweaty.  I can feel like my heart is burned or infected and days like this I feel like I am a job to God, one that never gets done. 

Sometimes it’s hard for people to love one another. We can’t imagine having such a Holy love that we don’t have to work hard at loving somebody. Usually, when I am ‘working hard’ at loving somebody, it’s not the actual work of making that phone call, or surprising that friend, or cleaning up their mess... it is that I am praying for my own heart to be changed. For me to be selfless, for me to not grow angry, for me to hold my tongue - for the Spirit to live in me in such a way that PURE love bursts forth out of my heart. 

The Holy Spirit is God. His love is untouched by selfishness, anger, or any other sin that stems from unbelief. Such a pure love that NEVER considers it work to love us. It is not His job to love us - It’s His desire, the deepest longing in His heart to love His children, such an intense desire that He would send His Son to die to be able to love us freely. 

I think it brings joy to God's heart when we see things the way that He sees them, with Kingdom eyes. How humbling it is to know that our God doesn't call us a job He has to do, and how honoring it is to Him when we don't see ourselves that way either! 

We are His delight. 

-Mal