When hope is lost I'll call you Saviour

I gave a lift home to a guy on Monday after Alpha and got talking about Uganda and the run-up to moving away. I was reminded of the unique, special and devastating year before climbing on a plane for Africa, and all that God taught and showed me through a period of exceptionally tough circumstances.

I loved a boy. We fell in love in November 2008, and spent 9 months living in each others' pockets dreaming of the future and planning to get married. He was extraordinary - passionate for God and adventure, completely engaging and I loved him with all I was. On 15th August 2009 we broke up, and I was left shattered. During our relationship, I had allowed myself to become shrivelled to fit in his shadow, determined only to support him in his ministry and conveniently forgetting my own. My relationship with God took a backseat, and any time with friends was considered second-best compared to being with him. Something was sealed in my heart the first time I said 'I love you'.

For one year, I mourned. My future was lost because it had become wrapped up in him. My present had dissolved since I had given up interests, hobbies and friends in order to be with him. (For the record, none of this was his fault - I did it quite willingly.) The first 2 weeks, I laid in bed at home crying and devouring the Bible. The only time I felt any peace, the only time the tears stopped was when the Word of God was open and pounding through my imagination as I read. I stopped reading only to sleep, and be awoken with another gut-wrenching sob.

2 months later, my family suffered a terrible shock and we entered into the long, low journey of walking alongside a family member going through his own valley.

And yet, my flat in Brentwood became Jesus' home. I turned off the TV for a solid year and lost appetite for everything other than prayer, reading the Bible and consuming books written by Christian authors, most significantly Shane Claiborne. I knew Jesus in an intense way, moment-by-moment as I wept, prayed and submitted my tattered life to Him. 'If this is it, You can have it'.

He gave me a deep desire at the root of my heart to engage with poverty - to go and meet the poorest of the poor and become part of their lives. There was nothing I wanted more than to sell everything and go to Africa. And exactly one year to the day, on 15th August 2010, I flew to Kampala and started working for a Christian charity called Oasis in a slum called Kyebando.

And so why this slightly depressing recollection now? Well, because it is good to remember the grace of God that is particularly potent when we are particularly broken. It is good to remember that going through a tough time propels you into the arms of the Father, and forces you to shut off the utterly inconsequential (thanks John Piper) and engage with real meaning. Sometimes God changes the inner road of your direction and steers you off to the left, in my case, the extreme left. My life now is richer and fuller because I went to Uganda, which came about because I experienced terrible heartbreak.

So, was it worth it? To love, and lose, and find life on a different track?

I reckon so! And now, back on the 'normal' road of life, work, church, friends; with the daily struggles of finance, family and balancing life, I kinda wish I could revisit one day in the 'year of heartbreak' to feel again the warmth of intimacy with Christ, and the hunger to the point of starvation I felt for the Word of God.

If you are in a hard time - turn off the TV and find a spot to get to know Jesus. Warning: you may end up in Uganda.