Last Friday I got news that a friend of mine, Fofo, from Brazil and one of the boys I’d worked closely with in Fortaleza had both died. Fofo, a guy who worked on the YWAM base when I was in Fortaleza had died the day before after falling off a building. Daniel, not really a boy anymore but a young man, had been shot by the police a week earlier. I cried as I read the news. My heart was broken. It still is. I know Fofo is in heaven. Daniel I don’t know. He took steps towards Jesus while I worked with him, but where he was at last week I don’t know. I breaks my heart that he didn’t get a chance to live longer and it breaks my heart that injustice is allowed to flourish. I know he made some bad choices and wasn’t living a perfect life, but knowing his circumstances and knowing that he had a rough deal from the start makes it harder. And knowing there are so many others in Fortaleza and the world who are in the same situation, yet still alive makes me cry out to God. Cry out to the one who
Life is a journey full of weird and interesting experiences. As the years go by, what was once new and different, has become part of the ordinary and usual. And those things which once brought amazement, no longer catch my attention. So instead of letting the new and exciting fade into nothing, I want to try to capture and keep some of these moments.