Susan LaffertyFrom a young age, I heard about Jesus and His love. Sang songs about Him. Listened as my parents read Bible stories. Our family prayed often. I was loved and cared for.
And yet.
And yet I was lost. Fearful. Felt the darkness. Something wasn’t right. And I knew it. “Do not lie” seemed to compel me toward that very thing. Lying.
During those first years in Karachi, I struggled to find a place of morning quiet. With the Lord.
We were navigating the muddle of culture shock and power breakdowns. Learning a language with completely new sounds and an unfamiliar alphabet.
Trying to establish a rhythm for preparing clean water to drink. For getting food on the table. Daily.
And figuring out how to parent our children. I gave birth to our first child at the age of 33. And soon experienced what I now refer to as “mother shock.”
The 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.
