Pilirani Knoviwa.
10 years old.
Rarely says a word but her eyes speak of incredible wisdom.
I met Pilirani during a crusade to Thyolo village. The service had carried on long after the sun
had set, but still she sat a few feet away from me, attentive to the preachers
and teachers that were speaking. I paid
little attention to her, just another cute little girl… Until one time that I
glanced over at her, and the Lord spoke to me.
“This is a powerful little girl,”
He said. The Lord had given this
little girl incredible giftings that as of yet were unknown to her, giftings
that would be used to the Lord’s glory someday, but the enemy was seeking for
them as well. I was blown away. I didn’t even know her name, but I could see
the spiritual battle that was going on around this innocent young girl. So I did what I knew I could do: I prayed
protection for her. The enemy would not
have her.
As the service continued I was very aware of where she was the whole
time. When they started to play the
movie “The Passion of the Christ,” I could see her next to me,
straining her neck to see over the heads of the people in front of her. I invited her to sit on my lap so she would
be slightly elevated; she hesitantly scooted over towards me, though her eyes
never left the screen. She sat
uncomfortably upright in my lap and I knew she felt self-conscious, though as
time went on she relaxed enough to lean back against my chest.
If you have seen “The Passion of the Christ,” you would know that
it is an intense portrayal of the death of Jesus Christ, evoking strong
emotions about the sacrifice He made for us… However, NOT something that is really good for
young eyes to see. As the film became
more and more intense, showing the betrayal in the garden, she slowly curled up
into my lap. Eyes fixed on the screen,
she rested her head on my chest during the night time trial in front of the
Sanhedrin. One hand was around my back,
her other rested on my stomach, either one occasionally stroking to assure
herself that I was still there, holding her.
When it came time for the 39 lashes, I just rocked her in my arms. I didn’t want her to watch it, but she would
not do much more than turn her face a little bit more into my chest.
They stopped the movie before it was over, and almost immediately Pilirani
crawled out of my lap. It was as if she
had crossed a line and she needed to retreat as soon as possible. I watched her curl up, pulling her arms
inside her ratty t-shirt because of the chilly night air. I wanted to hold her again, but she had
withdrawn, closing that door. When we
left that evening, I thought I would not see her again.
However there was more in that relationship than I expected. The next day she approached me hesitantly,
circling around the small group of children in front of me. I recognized her as my friend from the night
before and immediately gave her my full attention. I invited her to sit next to me, and then she
pulled a small empty margarine container from her pocket, opening it to reveal
two packages of chocolate cookies. She
handed me one with a small smile, then hurried off to hand the other to her
friend Alison from Team Walking Third.
Left with only the tupperware, she gave that to me as well. I was so touched. I could barely manage to get her to tell me
her name and she only gave the smallest of smiles, but she followed me around
devotedly, despite the hyper interest of the crowds of children that swarmed
all of us.
That evening her and her sister Priscilla escorted me back to our bus. Pilirani actually held my hand and spoke some
words in Chechewa, her smile glimmering even in the dark. One of our translators told me what she said:
she had never met someone like me, who loved as much as I did. I wanted to cry when I bid them goodnight.
I did cry when I said goodbye the next day.
She had showed up to the service and sought me out immediately, giving
me a tentative smile. She promptly
handed me her water bottle and dashed off across the field. I was unsure what was happening until she
appeared again, with the same chocolate cookies clutched in her hands. She slipped them into my hand, shared some
with Alison and again stayed devotedly by my side until it was time for us to
leave. I hugged her and kissed the top
of her head, smiling through my tears.
She seemed to understand as she hugged me goodbye.
As we drove away I continued to wave goodbye. I will pray for Pilirani always, because I
know that God has great things in store for that girl. Though the battle rages around her, she is
protected.
