Verb. It’s What You Do.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been reading about justice in just about any context I can get my hands on. Not because I’m terribly interested in justice in relation to the law, but because I’m extremely invested in justice for God’s people.

I say that I’m highly invested in justice for God’s people because He has made me that way. He gave me a heart that is drawn to the people who often face injustice on a routine basis. The needy, the vulnerable, the widows, the orphans. All of them.

But, I have to say that I am especially drawn to the most vulnerable of children. The orphaned. The ones who don’t have parents around to protect and care for them the way my mom did for me.

My heart weeps at the idea that there are girls and boys who don’t have a parent or parental role model to remind them that they are strong, unstoppable forces of nature to be reckoned with.

That’s why it’s so important to me that they encounter abounding justice and love in their lifetime.

Justice is “just or fair behavior or treatment.” It’s giving people what they deserve, what they are due.

If you’re a Christian, what they deserve is to know that you love them with just a small portion of the love Jesus has for you and for them.

It’s easy to say that you love someone or a group of someones. It’s harder to show someone or a group of someones that you love them.

In Mark 12:31, Jesus says “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Jesus never said “say that you love your neighbor as yourself.” He used love as a verb, and verbs are meant to be acted upon.

I was reading one author’s thoughts on this verse and she said “I don’t know about you, but I prefer when the people I love stick around for a little while.”

Looking forward one week from today, I have an incredible, Jesus organized, life altering opportunity to love 20–30 orphaned Ugandan children for an entire month.

I’m absolutely thrilled to the point of tears. I’m also slightly terrified to the point of tears. But mostly, I’m ridiculously thankful to the point of tears.

I cry a lot. Jesus made me that way. Sorry about it.

I’m thankful for Yellow Fever vaccinations (heaven knows I don’t want that souvenir).

I’m thankful for friends and family that have supported me in preparation for this experience.

I’m thankful for the connections and relationships that have already blossomed from a mutual desire for justice and love for God’s people.

But more than all of that, I’m thankful for a God that is loving, just, and constantly pushing me out of my comfort zone.

Here’s to seven days until Uganda. Thanks for sharing this experience with me.

Nkwagala nyo, Mwebale!