Immediately, the image of a huge bulk of a man filled my head from bone-to-bone. His head was large as the moon. His eyes so deep and mouth so wide, they couldn’t have been the craters covering its face. His nose broad and high, rising from His face like a celestial mountain erupting from a dark moon lake. His thick eyebrows curved like wrinkles across moving water’s surface and drew my attention to the tilt of His lips. He was smiling at me.
Suddenly, I realized I was looking at the Face of the One Who’s Back I’d felt days before when stranded on the open water (click here to read). The Face of God was looking at me, and smiling.
His chest every bit as broad as His back rippled in power, as did His arms—grander than Sequoias. His hips narrowed and His legs were lean. His feet almost small, when I considered the mass of body they carried. It takes something broader than a damn to hold the Heart of God, but nothing bigger than a ballerina foot to carry its weight.
Clad in the simple, worn clothes of a hobo, He had a stick slung over one shoulder. At the end of a stick was tied a scarf, stuffed with items as if ready to jump a train.
Taking in the image my heart raced before He even spoke. Lips turned up in mischievous, beguiling smile, my Hobo spoke, “Well, come on! We’ve got a journey to get a going! It’s an adventure!”
With those few words, my predawn Strangler’s grip lost its hold on me. I was free. Free to climb from my bed, leaving Milton’s side and still know that I will not be alone. God, the Hobo—“Gobo”—and I are going on an adventure together! I’ve read the stories of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses…and on and on so many times, that I rarely doubt in my head that God ever sends us out alone. I have the knowledge. It is my heart that doubts and strays sometimes. When God touches me in such a personal way, speaking through images culled from my own background and story, I have more than knowledge. I experience Him.
As I have been traveling today, I read a true story about orphans in the same region as our orphanage Our Father’s Cleft. It broke my heart. They are dying in mass, every single day simply because they have no home in which to live. I thought, “God, You are so gracious to me, with me. I know You long for these precious orphans to know you as intimately as You show Yourself to me. Help me, Abba, Father to reach them, to save them, to care for them, that they may come to know You.”
It is difficult for an abandoned orphan dying of starvation, Cholera, wild animals, or exposure to believe in a God that they only hear of. The home described in this proposal is our first phase to provide a safe and loving place, where God can be experienced. Please help us to make this orphan dream a reality.
Love, your sister—traveling with Gobo!