After spending nearly 10 months in the USA, I felt the reluctance to return to our field of service.  I didn’t want to leave our aging parents or my family that had somehow rediscovered me.  I didn’t want to stop my studies, I just wanted to finish now.  I hated that my son would not play football again in the fall.  There were so many things I was longing for that just wouldn’t happen once we were back serving overseas.  So for two weeks I have struggled with my emotions and my desire to be here.  Yes I loved seeing my friends and collegues, yes I loved my house and my things, and yes it is a beautiful place to serve…..BUT.  Here I was not all here and not all there, a shadow person doing the motions of ministry.  And then yesterday we decided to go to a church that ministers in the city center in the area where people make their living sorting garbage and refuse for food and recyclable items.  I sat next to a lady who might have been about my age but her hard life showed in her face.  She was dressed as one of the indigenous ladies in her traje, with a worn wrinkled face and shoulders worn down with care.  But when the pastor asked us to open our Bibles she had hers in her hand.  But she couldn’t find the passage and she was not able to read the words, but as I helped her and read them out loud she began to cry.  It was Luke 8:26-31 about the demoniac that Jesus delivered and then told to share with everyone what God had done for him.

She began to cry as we read the scripture together.  I could see her lips repeating what I read as if it were some precious saying she was trying to commit to memory.

She told me her eyes were bad and she couldn’t read her Bible well.  I am not sure she could read at all to tell the truth.  She told me that every time she heard God’s word her heart burned inside of her with joy.  She longed to know more about it.  This is her story.  Her son died of a drug overdose last year.  The people in the church were there for her, helping her and sharing with her about God’s love.  She surrendered her heart to God and had been baptized 8 months ago.  Now she loves God with all her being and tries hard to learn and walk with him.

After church I took her name and told her I would pray for her everyday this week.  She began to cry again and tell me about her other children and how they needed God too.

This morning I got up to spend time with God and of course I prayed for her, but I also realized that she had done something wonderful for me.  Her simple faith had healed my heart and reminded me all over again about what I am called to do here in this land that is not my home.  I thanked the Lord that I was given a glimpse into her heart and her desire to honor and serve God in the midst of a hard and trying life.  I felt dwarfed by her faith.  Thank you Lord Jesus for using me in some small way to help your saints here in this country.

Amen

Courageous

Being courageous involves so many things.  Its hard to explain to someone who has never lived in my megacity how brave I felt driving down 6 lanes of chaos today.  When I came home I thanked God for giving me the courage to go and not just stay in my safe home.  Or I think of how hard it was to go back to school when most people my age are thinking about retirement- I didn’t even begin to think it was courageous until I was attempting to work an online program and learn from you tube.  Then I realized that learning had changed and I was definitely from another generation.  Courage is trusting God when you are afraid, trusting God when your prayers aren’t answered, believing and acting even when you don’t see any change with your eyes or your heart.