I sat close to the seven men, shook their hands, prayed for them under my breath as Ellen took what information she needed from them in order to get them out of detention. The young man I spoke with, his English simple but clear, told me a little about life in the detention centre.
I’ve been thinking about the word Commission. As a writer it is a welcome thought: to be sought out by someone who appreciates what you do, to partner in a new work, to bring into a reality an aesthetic dream, and to not have to expend all the energy on ends to figure out how they will meet.
Our capacity to love God and others may not be where we prefer it to be or where it should be, but we must choose to pour the measure of that love out now. The good news for us all is that we have a perfect example in Christ of selfless love, given without reserve. It will be by looking to him that the measure of our love will increase.
As she drove we talked. I peppered her with questions about the Detention Centres and her work ministering to Vietnamese workers who by some ironic twist of fate, or a bad decision, and usually because of forces outside their own power, arrive in Malaysia legally on contracts, but become illegal in the process.