hope

The moment we open the door, they’re always smiling and have welcoming arms for good Jamaican hugs.

On my mission trip to Jamaica, I finally got a chance to meet with the Street Family. Eight members of the humble family pack into a small cinderblock ‘house,’ way below anything they truly deserve. I was fortunate enough to be able to help dig and pour a foundation, and begin with columns, on an extension to their bare dwelling.
Her name is Hope. She’s stunning. She’s 26, with a 6 year old son named Eric, and her goofy wit will have you hooked the moment she smiles.

Hope and her two brothers, David and Leroy ate, stayed, worked, and went everywhere with us throughout the week. It was awesome, seriously; the time spent with that amazing family will stick with me forever.

As the week progressed, Hope and I began talking more and more. She’d tell me of her cute Spanish boyfriend, view on religions, and how thankful she was for everything. She reminded me that when you have nothing, your everything, is Christ. When darkness beings to takeover, Abba will shine his light for you. And even when all seems lost there’s hope, Jesus.

The word hope has meant a lot to me over the past few years. Hope for the future, hope for healing, hope to grow and love. When I think of Hope, I do think hope. She’s strong, faithful, and happy. Hope, along with the rest of the family, is accepting. She knew nothing of what I’d done, of who I was, and yet she was willing to be my friend-stay up late giggling, hold my hand as we talked with Ben Glen, and loving me for me.

Hope is there waiting, smiling and ready to embrace all who come knocking.