I stepped off the plane in Vietnam with this overwhelming urge to slow down time. It is month six of my World Race, and while I feel as if I’ve lived several lifetimes since leaving the states, I also can’t seem to put my finger on where the time went. The days are long, the months are short and time is the wildest concept about this whole thing.
Right now I am living life with team Plants and Pillars, and what a sweet life it is. While not technically a part of their team, they have welcomed me in so well. On this team is Chase, Kirsten, Leah, Carly, and Reece. Coming alongside my friends as they work for the Kingdom and strive after the Father’s heart has been the coolest job I’ve ever had. But this blog isn’t about that…I’m here to tell you about our first adventure day here in Vietnam and the woman who broke my heart.
Adventure Days are always a tricky thing. They usually involve a degree of planning, budgeting, getting people organized and all the fun things that are involved in community living. So, when an American friend we met at church invited us to spend the day visiting the village where he lives with his Vietnamese wife AND he would plan the day and pick us up, we jumped at the chance to have a day out and about where we didn’t have to figure out any of the logistics. The day of, we were joined by two other American men currently living in Vietnam. It was nice to be around people who, while still strangers, felt very familiar.
The morning we spent hanging out as a group and sharing a meal of Banh Mi and fruit. The hospitality was incredible and the company even better. After lunch we took a quick hike up a small mountain to overlook the village. It was a great view, but what I enjoyed most was being away from the city and back around the mountains. That is one of the ways I encounter the Father the most, is being amongst his creation. There are really very few places I’d rather be than in the mountains.
After our hike, we headed to Robert’s (our host for the day) house and had the best coconut water I’ve ever tasted! Ahh so good. Unfortunately some of the people who joined us for the day had to be back to town by early afternoon so our visit was cut short. But before leaving the village, Robert asked us to visit a family. These types of requests are pretty common on the World Race, everyone wants to introduce us to their friends and family, or invite us to their events and so on. Therefore none of us were really phased by the stop.
However, as we pulled up in front of the little house, we were told that the man of the house was dying. This was not a causal stop to meet friends. They asked us if we would pray over the man for healing from his cancer. In the short minutes before stepping into their home, we postured our hearts toward the power of the Holy Spirit. This is why we are here, these are the opportunities we cherish. We learned that just three days prior, the entire family gave their lives over to Jesus! PTL!
“Okay,” I thought to myself as we walked up the broken stone pathway, “Let’s go.”
I took off my shoes at the door and as soon as my bare feet hit the cold concrete of their floor, my heart sank. The weight of sadness in the room was tangible. The man we came to pray over was in a hammock, covered in blankets despite the heat of the day, and lay motionless. The sight was enough to draw tears from my eyes, but did not hold my attention long. After Reece began praying over the man, my heart was pulled elsewhere. The man’s mother stood against the wall of the room overlooking us. She wept. My heart broke.
I go over to her as the others diligently pray over the man. She takes my hands and buries her face in them, I feel her tears land in palms. Tears begin to stream down my own face and I weep too. From somewhere behind me one of our friends translates what she is saying.
I am 85 years old, an old woman. My son cannot die before me. Please save him.
Jesus hear her cries! I wanted to scream them out. I wanted to grab hold of all the power in the room and throw it at this man so that he would just sit up and start dancing around the room, praising Jesus! But that is not what the Lord called me here to do. So I held that sweet mother. I let her weep into my hands, into my shirt. I held up her weight when I was sure she would just collapse. I wept with her and prayed that she would feel that the Father was weeping too. I prayed that she would know that He understands. He too watched his son die. I prayed for her to see the Father’s face so that she may not fear death, but know that in it we go home.
I have no idea what the woman saw. I have no idea if my prayers came to pass. But I know the Father loves her and he allowed my heart to break for the mother because his heart broke for her. Death and illness are a result of our broken world and not of God’s will. We serve a God of love and healing and power.
We found out a couple days later that the man did pass away, with his mother and wife by his side. While my heart still breaks in grief for his mother, I can also rejoice that I will meet this man again. One day we will dance for the glory of God together.
With love,
Lina
