Bravery.

I live in the steeple of the church. It's pretty rad. I climb three flights of stairs and then a tiny spiral staircase and I am home. The roof of the church is my balcony. There is a cross on the front on the steeple and when you're walking towards the mission the cross is how you know where you're going. I like that.



Yesterday I decided to be brave and venture out on my own. Mostly because the boys weren't showing up and I have no patience... But I digress.



I walked down all the stairs and out the gate. I convod with Jesus on the way out, I am new here and so getting me home was on Him. I walked the way I knew we had walked before and was offered a ride from every tuk tuk and moto driver [I think it's a because I'm white mostly]. No, no, I wanted to walk. I found my way after probably three miles to the tea and coffee place. It's a classy joint. After wandering a bit more I decided to head for home, pretty proud of myself for doing this all alone.

I got in a tuk tuk and pointed the way home, or so I thought. Pretty quickly I realized I had pointed the driver in the wrong direction and I had no idea where I was. Panicking, I started to pray.

I saw a school that Tim and Fay had pointed out as a landmark to get home and I yelled for the tuk tuk driver to turn. A few streets later I saw it out of the corner of my eye, the cross. Home.



This year isn't for me, I'm already reminded of that. I don't feel ready for this. I'm not brave on my own. So I'm living under the cross. And I'm counting on Jesus to bring me home.