Today I sit and write this from a random coffee shop in Atlanta, Georgia. I sit here and reflect on the most Spirit-filled evening of my life. An evening spent on a bus full of homeless people and ex-convicts, single mothers and broke college students, refugees and African immigrants. Filled with people who have stories, who need or know Jesus. There on that greyhound bus from Jackson, Mississippi to Atlanta, Georgia- I found a God of surpassing peace and perfection. Here is how the story goes:
I’m currently living in Georgia for two months just to spend time with Jesus and to seek Him with a new change of pace before I leave the country for nine months. I also have a best friend who lives in Mississippi, and I decided to take a nine hour bus to visit her for a week. *Shout out to all my friends who support my current nomadic lifestyle*. I woke up Wednesday morning prepared to jump on a bus and head back to Atlanta that day. But as usual, Jesus had different plans. Throughout my stay in Jackson I had a difficult time connecting to the Father. I couldn’t understand what the disconnect was, and I know now that it really was just my own fear of saying goodbye to my best friend for a year that was getting in the way. So Jesus lovingly forced me to take a step back and be thankful for the time I had left with her. As I arrived at the bus station at 6:30am, I was faced with the fact that my bus was canceled and the next bus wasn’t until 10:30pm that night. I was angry, irritated, confused, out of patience and out of food. But that day ended up being one of my favorite days spent in Jackson. A gracious gift from a gracious Father who knows exactly what we need before we know ourselves. I learned how to appreciate each moment and the selflessness of my friends as they drove me to and from the bus station, offered me their food, kept me laughing, and taught me how to cherish every moment, even the hard ones filled with goodbyes.
So again I found myself at the bus station at 9:00pm that night to ensure I got a good window seat with an outlet. And again, Jesus had other plans. I ended up sitting next to a sweet homeless lady fleeing the country to the Dominican Republic. I was so excited to get to be sitting next to such an interesting woman… until she started yelling at the bus driver. So she had to be seated by herself in order to protect me from her violet threats, and she took the seats that previously belonged to a family who got forced into the back of the bus because they had kids. (I still don’t know why). Anyways, this brought me side by side with a large tatted man who spoke nothing but complaints about the smell and the limited leg room. I fell asleep easily, until I sneezed. And that my friends is when Jesus showed up. After this large intimidating tatted man kindly said “bless you,” he carried on to ask me about the patches on my backpack and if the flags sewed onto it were of the places I had been. “This is my shot” I thought. Despite my lack of sleep, I took this opportunity and ran with it. I shared with him my heart for missions and how I got to where I was on a bus from Jackson to Atlanta. I shared with him the power of the Holy Spirit and his perfect timing (which I was definitely speaking more to myself than to him I believe.) This is when he shared with me his name. Rey was on his way from Prison in Dallas to a halfway house in Atlanta. Now if this were an average 1am conversation on a sketchy bus, I would have been freaked out. But this was no average sketchy-bus-ride conversation. This was a Holy Spirit conversation. And hearing Rey’s story of drug abuse and sobriety through prison only brought me peace. Before this I was terrified. I clenched my backpack tight and my wallet tighter. I slept with both eyes open and didn’t dare make eye contact with the usual passerby on the bus. But Jesus. Jesus flooded me with peace and confidence at 2am and there I realized the truth of His Spirit and the perfection of His timing.
Rey actually shared with me that his original sentence was for 18 years in prison, but God gave him a miracle, and two years later he was on his way to a halfway house for a month. Only Jesus. He also shared with me that the lady he was sitting with on the bus previously was from Nigeria, and she was evangelizing to him and telling him the exact same things I found myself speaking into his life. I found myself telling this man that this is the moment where daily commitment to the Lord means the most. In the middle of uncertainly and fear and transition, that is when Jesus can be found wrecking our lives and putting them back together in the most beautiful and unconventional way. Like sitting next to an 18 year old girl who found peace in the fact that he was just released from prison and felt uncharacteristically compelled to share with him at one in the morning.
We talked mostly of Jesus’ redemption and salvation and grace, and lets be honest once 3am came around I should have been getting tired. But the spirit just kept flowing out of me. I didn’t know what the heck I was saying at that point but I knew that it was exactly what Rey needed to hear. As he would sit in silence to process, then chime in with photos and letters from his son back home in Las Vegas, I just kept hearing Jesus speak to me “focus child, listen to him, you are my ears and I am your lips.”
By the end of the bus ride, both Rey and I walked away encouraged, at peace, and confident in where The Lord was leading us although neither of us know exactly where that is. And Rey walked away recommitted to Jesus and His perfect plans. This is the beauty of our Jesus guys. That He would bring me to the south, cancel a bus, and use an unexpected disturbance to ultimately place us next to each other in order for the spirit to move past the exhaustion, past the fear, past the unlikelihood of friendship, past the awkward smells and uncomfortable seats. He has woven our stories together years in advance, years before I found myself on that bus back to Georgia where I am living with a dear friend I met at 13, long before I met my friend Rachel in Uganda, who happened to be the very reason I was on that bus in the first place. Long before Rey was convicted, before either of us first met Christ years ago and states apart. Jesus made our stories collide one random night on a bus, and Jesus was our only common ground. And I know that I would never have been able to appreciate and cherish those moments with Jesus and Rey if I hadn’t learned that lesson just earlier that day.
Jesus. The sweetest name I know, the very reason I’m fearless when it comes to evangelism, the very reason I am learning how to lead a mission focused life and not just go on a mission trip. This nine month trip started long before I decided to even apply. All to you Jesus, may there be many more stories to tell just like Rey’s. My God of perfect peace and perfect timing, I praise you for your bigger picture as you weave our stories of humanity and sin and redemption together under Your Name. To you be the Glory forever. Amen.
