The whole scene with the carpets in the dust seemed very Biblical to me. Stately men in robes, reclining at the foot of an elder, bending an ear. But the sight also struck me as a metaphor for the country as a whole. A country at a crossroads. A country leaning in.

They run on fear, on drugs, and on the will to survive one more day. Some, a few fortunate ones, run into a second chance.

“Two thirds of active missionaries are married couples. Another third are single women. The rest are single men.”

It’s the golden hour, in a golden place—perfect for a romantic stroll or an inspired moment of quiet introspection. Also perfect, incidentally, for making a movie.

As our team waded through the water with baggage and provisions atop our heads, stumbling in the thick, powdery sand, we felt like explorers in a new land.

So there beside the drama of a protracted African war, beside the aid workers, peacekeepers, and pallets of relief food, were teachers. And some of them were missionaries.

The message to the farmers and shepherds of Lesotho is that God, amazingly, relates to their disparaged vocations. And through them, he is working out his purposes for Lesotho

What do you take on a trip like that? Good boots and a Bible. A notebook and an open mind. And, if you dare, an open heart.

Once a man bent on self-destruction. Now a man spent for the Lord. Timothy is a living, breathing display of a God whose love is relentless. The humble pastor cannot walk these streets without testifying to this.

“I treat them like human beings,” Hanneke says bluntly when I ask about her secret to ministering among those with AIDS. “I touch them. I hug them.” She makes it sound easy, but I marvel at her methods.

Panther, like Jacob’s favored son, was found, and he had a story to tell of God’s goodness and divine intervention – and a captive audience to hear it.

Panther, like Jacob’s favored son, was found, and he had a story to tell of God’s goodness and divine intervention – and a captive audience to hear it.