Enlarge my heart.

Enlarge my heart. This is my request of God. Beyond my understanding, I am convinced it is His desire for me. It is as David prayed: “I shall run the course of Your commandments, for You shall enlarge my heart.” (Psalm 119:32). Jesus said that the greatest commandments were to love God and man fully. On my own, I am often reminded that it is not possible. Love cannot exist with or be extended from fear. Love suffers long and is kind: love does not envy; love doesn’t parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Corinthians 13:4-7). My only hope at love is for Love Himself to transform and enlarge my heart. The miracle is He is able and willing.

God has surrounded me with beauty and pain, joy and suffering; and it is changing me. Over the past few months, God has reawakened a passion within me to care for the dying. As I prepared to move to Kenya in 2004, I wrote in a letter that “this is the burden that God has put on my heart: that people should not have to die alone.” By God’s grace, over the past five years, loving those who are in the process of dying and those who grieve no longer feels like a burden, I consider it a gift. It is not easy or glamorous and it is incredibly painful at times, but I would not trade the holy moments I have been allowed for anything. Priorities are in perspective. There is no pretending or pretense. God is present. His Father’s heart that endlessly pursues and lavishly welcomes his lost and broken kids is doing just that. With so much compassion, I hear Him saying: "My child, you were never meant to be alone. I know you and everything that you have done, but I could not love you anymore than I do. You're afraid and so ashamed, but you are safe with Me. I will not turn you away. In fact, I long for you to come, just as you are, to Me. I will give you rest." Imagine, the times He chooses to speak these words through one of our mouths or allows our touch to usher one into His Presence. It is sacred.

For one week, I got the chance to love an 18 year old girl named Faith. Her appearance struck me as she entered the examination room at the HIV clinic. She was beautiful but very sick. She was child-like but experiencing consequences of adult decisions that were very probably forced upon her. Her body was wasted but there was still life in her eyes. She moved my heart; and when I heard she was from Kipkaren, I wanted to be her friend. Tuberculosis had destroyed one of her lungs completely. As we walked out of the clinic, she leaned against me. The look in her eyes as I told her we would take her home in our car caused my eyes to fill with tears. I glimpsed the relief that she felt, if only for a moment, that she did not have to struggle to walk, or ride on the back of a bicycle, the long journey home. On Saturday, I visited Faith at the hospital as she had been admitted the previous day for severe dehydration. I sat with my friend as she struggled for air. I bought her french-fries as she requested and prayed the Comforter would come and do just that. Faith passed away last night, and my heart aches because of the loss. Beyond measure, I am also grateful that God allowed me to encounter His treasure. God used Faith to enlarge my heart.