I know a fine young man in Haiti. He aspires to be a pastor one day. And a lawyer, because pastors don’t get paid in Haiti.
This is his house.
This picture is burned in my memory. I remember wondering at the time if he could even stretch out full length to sleep at night.
I live in a 650 square foot house (soon to be 870 SF!)–small in American estimations. One day when I was struggling with a financial decision (could I afford to be “generous” in this certain situation?) I came around the bend in the road and saw my house. And it looked HUMONGOUS. Perspective.
Would it surprise you to know that much of the time I still think of myself as fat–as no different than that 255 pound woman from 9 years ago?
And then one day, while rifling through my closet looking for something nice to wear, I came upon the only pair of “fat pants” that I kept.