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At the Margins, a Poem

Quick link: Come to the Margins

At A Life Overseas, I am republishing an essay I wrote for SheLoves Magazine a few years ago.

Come to the margins, to the railroad track where houses were burned down and women are rebuilding with planks of wood, flattened powdered milk cans, and used clothing.

Come to the clinic and listen to the stories of grandmothers, of when they were nomads, of before the city was a city. Hear the heritage of folk tales and history.

Come to the elementary school and tutor the kids who strain to keep up in a language they don’t quite know yet.

Come to the stadium and watch the athletes train, see how their bare feet skim the track, hear how their teammates cheer and congratulate one another. Raise your voice with theirs.

Click here to read the rest of this sort-of-poem post Come to the Margins

Come to the Margins, SheLoves

Quick link: Come to the Margins

Today I’m writing at SheLoves about margins and Jesus and love. Come over to SheLoves and come to the margins with me.

Come with nothing, if nothing is what you have and when nothing is the best thing you have. Nothing in your hands so they are wide open to receive, and to hold. Or, sometimes, come with a piece of bread and a fish and see what Jesus does with it, for all of us, even for you, even for me, here in the margins.


Click here to read Come to the Margins

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