His eyes were literally popping out of his eye sockets. Her body was swollen and distended. They did not have enough money for medical treatment, so they lay in hospital beds hoping that a doctor would find some time or compassion to treat them. If they did not have someone to bring them food, they would die right there of starvation. In the hospital.
I had heard the stories, but seeing them for myself was a different story. It was heart shattering.
I was seventeen years old and on a missions trip to Uganda with my church. I knew that I would be impacted by that trip, but I had not known exactly how.
I cried in the bus on the way back to where we were staying. A mixture of grief and compassion engulfed me – grief for their suffering and a compassion to help those who are hurting.
I was sickened by the comfortable life that I lived and ashamed of the comfortable choices that I had been making.
Even though I was definitely a believer at the point, I was more concerned with what I wanted to do than with what Christ wanted me to do. I had just been floating along with the current of my parents’ decisions. I was not making those hard decisions for myself.
It was right there that I knew I needed to make a decision. If I only have one life to live, how was I going to live it? What is the best thing I could do with my life?
I knew that I could not be halfway for Christ. That is not how Christianity works. Christ demands all that we are and the entirety of our lives. It was all the way or not at all.
And I was all in.