A shooting star? That’s a first for me. I shouldn’t be surprised though. It follows a deluge of rainbows, a trend of natural signs, pointing to … well, I’m not sure yet.
I sat in the middle of a thorn-bush enclosed livestock corral on the side of a mountain, flicking flies out of my Samburu chai with a twig, thinking, “Is this really my life?”
Nothing makes you consider what a faithful life looks like than that moment when you’re knee deep in the clinging mud of a freezing stream, trying to pull a floundering ewe to safety. In short, the biblical imagery of believers as sheep? Accurate. But maybe not in the way you think.