Susan LaffertyThe journals come in all sizes. Most have survived extremes. Dust and drought. Mold and humidity. It shows.
They hold my life records. The common, daily occurrences of a cross-cultural life. The ongoing spiritual battle.
And the struggles of our children in the midst of it all.
Constant illnesses. Anxieties. Hurt. Fears.
In dust and drought. Mold and humidity.
The temple is dark. Noisy with chants. Crowds press through. Men, women, children bowing before multiple idols.
Shiny cloth drapes several of these gods. Gods of stone and clay and metal.
I watch a father guide his young son from one graven image to the next. Showing him how to bow, what to say, where to place the offering.
A way of life. Inherited. Passed down from one generation to the next.
Standing there in the dark, I feel the weight of it.
“What’s it like entering a new country and culture. How do you prepare?” Her questions take me back to the early days. Of crossing borders and dwelling in the land.
My reading the next day is Joshua 1-4. God’s people are leaving their wilderness wanderings and entering the promised land.
The context and purpose differs, but in the preparation of God’s people, I find strategic practices. For entering the land.
Whether that land is across the river, across the street or across the ocean.