finding fresh hope for the journey
I’m getting really excited about being in Uruguay again. I came here excited once. I came here thinking how great it would be to be part of a move of God among a people who could care less about Him. What would it look like to see people suddenly ebullient over God’s great love for them? What would it be like to see a corrupt politician wake up one morning weeping and wailing over the damage he had done, begging God to forgive him, to invade him, and then heading out full of Jesus in his chest to right his wrongs? What would it be like to see the rich come out from behind their iron-fence clad houses, giving away heaps of food and clothing to the poor? What would it be like to see EVERY church, Baptist, Pentecostal, Anglican, Catholic, full and overflowing because God swept through in mighty power and told people that the plans were changing, that He was establishing His kingdom and that is was time to start dancing to a new tune?
But I lost that hope somewhere along the way. Some slow poison leaked into my soul and danced around in the back of my head, whispering that God doesn’t care about post-modern, post-Christian Uruguayans. Telling me that all this stuff is a product of my imagination. Telling me that my faith is merely a construct I bought into to give myself peace, and that now that it is my vocation, I am pretty much locked into it for my own financial security and for that of my family…
And then… well, Jesus was whispering a different story all the while, but it had been so long since I had taken the time to listen that deeply. But, by grace I am hearing it again, and hope comes. It comes flooding in. Here are some examples. Hope you enjoy the ride.
