Stories

I keep being reminded of the power of story. The stories of a culture are often one of the first things to be removed during a genocide. Books are burnt. Manuscripts stolen. Attempts to erase history abound.

Last week was full of so many stories. Our family had the privilege of joining a group of homeschooling mums and kids, as they heard missionaries speak from a dozen or so nations. I felt humbled as I heard story after story from each of these women, telling of their lives in nations mostly antagonistic towards Christians. Violently antagonistic. Heads being removed antagonistic. Putting you behind bars antagonistic.

And then there was the homeschooling mums and kids. What a privilege to be a part of a group that organise these events. These kids are regularly exposed to people who are having incredible impact on society. What heroes and heroines they'll have as they grow up! Forget Justin Bieber, baby - they're tight with the next Nelson Mandela.

We had breakfast, care of a mighty campus missionary in training. We were driven there by a development worker who's just returned from Bangladesh, and is now helping with the ongoing hurricane Yolanda crisis. Hosting us for the day was a couple of beautiful Mums who drove us home, blessed us with gifts, and who's kids gave us their missions pocket-money. And they had big pockets!

I wish I had have asked them more questions. I wish I could have heard more stories.