Pray For the Light

I often figure out dates in my life based around September 28, 2014. 

I do the same for the year I graduated high school. Then college. Then the year I got married. But none of those feel as seared into my soul as the day Mason left this world for eternity.

Everything that happened before that day has a happy, fairy tale sort of hue to the memory. Oh, that time we all went to Disneyland. Or those beach days or that Christmas. Time with friends and family. Anthony and I will often come across a picture of our family before Mason died and say to each other, “the good ol’ days…”

Not that we haven’t had good days since then. We have. But losing a child rips away a part of some security. Some of our adulthood “innocence.” And many of the days since that Sunday morning in 2014 have a hue of loss surrounding it. Even the greatest days we have now still have someone missing. And that’s just something that will never go away.

Passing the five year mark last September was a surreal milestone. For sure I always heard of people who experienced loss before and never, ever did I realize how hard it still is years later. My blissful naivety somehow convinced me that people get over it and move on… or something.

The other day I was also reminded of another big milestone. Five years ago last week, board members from Hope Partners first set foot on the property that would become Mason’s Place. 

After losing Mason, a generous gift was given in his honor and the vision was cast to establish a home for orphans in India. It is considered a Hope Center of Hope Partners International whose mission is to transform communities with the hope of Christ.

The transformation of the past 5 years has been remarkable. Much hope has been planted in the hearts of girls who once faced desperate futures, and much beauty has blossomed where darkness once presided. 

While God would have written this redemptive story in India with or without us, I’m humbled and grateful that he has chosen to draw us in and weave my little boy’s name in stories of hope. And that his name and his short life help draw people into a story that goes deeper than pain and loss. It steps beyond the sadness of a child dying way too soon and it points to hope and grace and the promise of eternity. 

Mason’s story has brought others to God’s story. It has included rescuing a 6-year-old girl from a child marriage and protecting dozens of girls from a life of forced prostitution. Children have been rescued from being sold, abused, forced into slavery, and saved from living a life of disease and hunger. They are given an education, a skill set, love, security, and most importantly, they are taught the love of an Almighty God who has a great purpose for them.  

Every day for the poor of India is a struggle. Every moment of existence for an orphaned girl is precarious. The reality they live is so far beyond what we can even comprehend in our comfortable quarantine in the U.S. 

And now, the desperation in India has reached a breaking point. 

In their efforts to prevent the spread of Covid-19, the Indian government mandated that all our girls must return to their home villages. And then March 24th, a 21-day complete lockdown was abruptly declared throughout India. With no advance warning and no plans in place for the millions who don’t have a permanent home, people are without options.

Being found on the street means a beating. No food. No water. Millions of people. 

For many in India there is no pantry full of canned goods. No freezer stocked with meal options. They buy food daily from their local market. A little rice. Maybe a few vegetables if they can afford them. Now there are no markets. And no money. 

The director at Mason’s Place, sought a special permit from the police allowing him to distribute food to the girls in their villages. When he sat with the official he was asked, “Will you take food only to your girls?” And he replied, “We will give to anyone with need.”

And so the team remaining at Mason’s Place has worked tirelessly to package food and distribute it to the girls’ villages. They are met with gratitude and tears. Many have already been without food for days. 

One 103-year-old lady, with tears streaming down her face, said, “I was out of hope. I was sure I would never eat again.”

The need is overwhelming and in some ways it feels impossible. For every bag of rice delivered to a desperate family, there are literally millions more going without. 

But that does not stop our director and their team from loading up their van every day, risking their own health and safety to reach the hurting. The Hope Center of Mason’s Place is not contained within the walls of its compound. It reaches beyond the 121 girls who consider it home. From it, hope pours out into a vast sea of need.

The truth is, the world right now is at a crisis point. Especially in poor countries with few options. Many will be forever altered by this critical juncture in history and the ripple effects will be felt for a lifetime.

And when we sit and scroll through our news stories from our comfortable American quarantine, it’s hard to put identity to each and every statistic we read. Over a million Coronavirus cases, thousands of deaths, hundreds of millions of desperate people. It simply becomes too overwhelming to even think about.

But all over the world there are those who are on the front lines, fighting against the darkness. People delivering food, providing shelter, meeting desperate needs. And God is writing redemptive stories in the midst of fear and loss and pain. 

His story brings light and hope and promise. And that light shines the brightest when things are darkest. The hard and the awful refine the beautiful edges of the hope of Christ.  

So while every day of the last five years has been tainted with pain, every great happiness tinged with a touch of sadness, there has also been a redemptive story being written. And that story is far from over. 

My heart breaks at the sheer number of suffering in India. But I also know with confidence that He who began a good work through Mason’s story will continue to do so. 

We can all be a part of a greater redemptive story. He’ll write them without us, but we can be woven into something beautiful with our prayers, our faith and our sacrifice. 

There is great pain all around the world right now. Fear. Hopelessness. And a desperate need for light. Not all of us can be on the front lines, but all of us can be on our knees. Today, I invite you to join in the beauty God will bring. It may not feel like it now, because the story is dark, but He is writing something beautiful. 

Pray for the light. 

His endings are always good ones.