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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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