Susan LaffertyLiving water flows out through the east gate. In Ezekiel’s vision.
Getting larger. Deeper. The further he walks.
Fruitful, leafy trees line this ever-growing river of life. Providing for the needs of the people.
And revealing what’s to come.
Sun beat down on flat roofs in long Karachi summers.
Electricity failed. Lines melted. Disconnecting and falling in the street.
The interior of our home was an oven. Climbing over 100 degrees at times.
We read of people dying in Chicago one summer. Why? Fans combined with heat above a certain temperature in their apartments turned those spaces into convection ovens.
Oh. We were getting cooked.
“What’s your name?” I ask. And the man stumbles over his answer.
Gives me one response. Then another.
At first I think it’s miscommunication. I’m still learning culture and language, after all.
But soon I hear the story behind the struggle.
His story.
