Jesus, I love You

I have ten minutes to do a quick post.

Life in France has been full. We’ve had lots of guests, with more on the way. (Note to self: next time we choose a mission field, choose Siberia. Not many guests scamper for a chance to visit missionaries there).

Thankfully, though, Jesus has been kind to restore unto me the joy of hospitality. The excitement sputtered and died soon after we moved here, as we had a lifestyle of constant hospitality. Slowly, carefully, He’s bringing back my joy in this area.

Maybe someday, here in France, I’ll return to me. The Mary who loved to have people over. The chatty Mary. The Mary who built into younger Christ-followers.

But that’s not up to me, is it? All I can do in this seemingly-endless transition period is to lay my weary head on Jesus’ chest, sigh, and trust He sees this.

And in that, I whisper, “Jesus, I love You.”

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