“Wow, that photo. It’s beautiful – it looks like diamonds.” A filmmaker friend said that as he glanced through the images on my phone.
There were so many stories to tell. Ten days in Kenya with Orphan Outreach had been haunting and beautiful and rich—and once again, God had shown His incredible ability to take our hearts and shatter them to make room for more love to live. He had flat-out leveled me more than once on this trip, teaching me about the power of being welcomed and embraced, about eyes that see with a faith I pray to have, and about what it means to really be a superhero.
And in an instant, the stories were gone. And not just those stories, but countless ones before them.
Pages upon pages of words written but not published, things started but not finished, lists with one or two thoughts that would one day find their place.
Photos were gone too. Dreams. Gone.
Everything on a laptop that was tucked away under a seat, away from the noonday sun. A simple stop and a welcome home meal had become police reports and a face washed by tears.
Pieces of my life. Gone. Replaced by sparkling bits of smoky glass on a leather seat.
I stared through the space where the window had been and looked at the glass that had poured like rain. And I prayed for the person who stole my computer—that they would read the stories and see the photos and be transformed. There had to be hope.
I prayed for redemption.
I didn’t know the prayer was for me.
The computer was never found, but I had been. A few photos salvaged on my phone began their quiet conversation. “Don’t forget this, love—and do you remember this?” Notes hastily typed and saved on that phone became the catalysts for memories reborn and repurposed. Stories were born from the rubble of stories stolen. Yes, in losing my stories, I was reminded where true story lives. It’s wrapped up in every good and hard moment. It’s there, waiting to be discovered, ready to transform. It’s like a heart that, when broken, is given more room to love. It’s like a pane of glass that, when shattered, becomes like diamonds.
This is day 9 of my #hopewriterlife and the theme is #PLOTTWIST.