Soft-boiled Eggs, and Kaya and Butter Toast
Sent this photo to a Malaysian who just (just 2 days ago!) got engaged to a Brit and will therefore be staying in the United Kingdom for the forseeable future, to the great sadness of her Malaysian-food-fired belly. But we know that God in his sovereignty gives enough grace for the possibility of godliness in all situations (even situations as seemingly trivial as getting comfort food in a place where your soft-boiled eggs grow stone cold in the few seconds you take to snap a photo, because the associate household is on a very tight budget).
Woke to a call from Singapore this morning about a family friend’s passing in America. His widow, they said, would like to speak to me soon. An hour later, I was down in the kitchen chatting with a French housemate as we ate our respective meals. She’d lived in Italy for years while her parents lived in Germany, so even the usual small-talk query about going home for Christmas required a rather nuanced answer.
Where is home? Where is our heart? Ultimately, in a place that is in the future. But for now, perhaps wherever our Lord has placed/will place us to do his will.