Things I did not take the risk on... drinking the water and eating the street food.
But there were a couple of other things I just couldn't help myself with.
We were informed that there was a high possibility that the people could have lice and to be aware of how close we were getting.
Even while we were there one of the FT missionaries thought he might have a fungus on his hands from all of the hands he shakes and personal skin contact he has with the people.
The night I learned of my brother's death, I distinctly remember telling my friends that were with me, "It hurts to love."
I also remember thinking to myself, "How was I going to be able to love on these people knowing the risk it would require, both physically and emotionally?"
Just thinking of the good-byes brought tears to my eyes and I hadn't even gone yet.
I was reminded that Jesus took the greatest risk when He surrendered everything of Himself to love me. And He calls me to do the same... to love as He has loved me.
So, how did it turn out?....
And now that I stand this side of the tears, the goodbye's, the risk...
Is love really love if it does not risk costing me something? And how is this risky love to play out in my everyday's of now? Here?
I invite and challenge you to think through this with me. But be warned... this much I do know... there is Risk in Loving.
(P.S. One of my friends that went as part of our group is a hairdresser. I told her upon returning from our work one of the days that I very well may get lice as much as I was loving on those people that day. She guaranteed me that if I did, she would personally go through my hair to help get rid of it. She understood, for she found herself loving them just the same. Now that's a friend!)