I’m stuffed

I thought I knew a lot about agape love until I came to Ukraine. But as they opened their doors and hearts to us, I was completely wrecked (and added two pants sizes) by the level of lavish hospitality demonstrated to us throughout this heart-rending, beautiful week.

Take Natasha, for instance. Severely burned by a fire years ago, she and her husband survive on government money to live and raise their two precious sons in this house.

She held her sweet baby and told us her story of rescue and redemption, then served us tea and a table full of sweets.

We came to give what we could, but what she gave overflowed the chipped cups of our hearts.

Then there’s Pastor Peter and his wife, who served us a (literally) 12-course meal, cooked on a tiny stove in a minuscule kitchen and served to the eleven of us scrunched around a table that filled up their whole library.

Then there was the finale at Valya’s house, the Mission to Ukraine treasurer. Another 12 courses. Another mutual, knee-buckling time of being loved, known, moved . . . And yes, STUFFED.

This is what the Kingdom looks like. Love spanning continents. The battle for lives waged by re-emboldened warriors.

Stuffed to the gills with glory.