It was a day in the life as a racer, a travel day at
that. Right in the hustle and bustle of the main bus station in Johannesburg,
South Africa was a sprawled out pile of 30 or more racers with packs and gears
galore. You couldn’t miss us if you tried and as it is our habit we took
advantage of time laid out before us.
Curiosity was sparked in the minds of our onlookers
and some visitors dropped in and out of our community circle. People were being
prayed for and ministry opportunities were all around us. God was at work and
the month was just starting…
Amidst all the noise, I heard a voice behind me,
“Excuse me, If anyone could help, all I need is 9 Rand to make it to Pretoria
to reach my brother’s home. All it would take is for 3 people to give me 3 rand
each.” It was the voice of a woman and I looked around to see if anyone was willing
to come and talk to her. I waited and shortly after I looked over to her and we
locked eyes. I knew from that point on I was supposed to come and talk to her.
Her name was Tracy, she was in a rough state,
carried all the marks of true homelessness, and was clearly in a state of
desperation. Her requests seemed genuine and her tone an honest one. I began to wonder how she ever got there and
I was anxious to find out why.
I agreed to go with her to the ticket counter to try
to rummage up a ticket. Our travel to the ticket booth provided us some time to
get to know each other and I was able to tell her about the World Race and why
I was doing it. I told her I was a follower of Christ and I wanted to share His
love all over the world. It was from that point on that the topics of our
conversation changed.
She looked at me nervously and said, “Can I ask you
a question” and I nodded in approval. With a troubled look on her face she went
on to say, “Do you ever think you could have done something so bad, that God
may be punishing you?” Her question was more than just a simple question it was
a door into her world. Before I could really utter anything of importance, we
were at the counter. To our demise there wasn’t a ticket left for sale for
Pretoria, it was a complete sell out. Her faced dropped and she let out a
desperate sigh and said these words, “You see what I mean by my question,
everything is falling apart for me, nothing seems to work. I’ve lost everything,
my home, my friends, and my family. I have nothing to my name and just when it
seems I may have a way out… something like this happens.”
I just listened intently, and her story continued.
She had been homeless for months now, struggling just to stay alive. She grew
more and more serious about her situation and she told me she had been hit by
car only a few days before, a statement like this seemed a little too
farfetched to be true. However, the small and simple gesture of her lifting up
her pant leg proved to me that I was terribly wrong in my assumption. There,
right before my eyes, was a leg crusted with blood, bruised, battered and in
dire need of medical attention. Her story was real and it captivated me.
I began to share the Gospel message with her as best
I could empathising His love for her and not His punishment. One thing was
missing though; I had to know what thing she felt God was punishing her for.
She began to tell me about her brother, who had had
died by a drug overdose in his bath tub only a few months before. She felt
guilty and felt that his blood was on her hands because she never told her
parents about his problem. Her terrible predicament she felt was a punishment
from God, a punishment because she had killed her brother. It was my mission to
reassure her otherwise.
I told her it wasn’t her fault; it wasn’t the choice
she made for her brother, she was NOT A MURDERER. You could see a change coming
over her as the lies of the enemy were shattered by the truths of God’s
promises. Her demeanour changed and she let her guard down even more. She
became more and more vulnerable and expressed her deep desire to know God more.
She told me that she had tried many times just to hear from Him as she prayed,
but she never felt Him speak to her. At this point I was at a loss for words; I
quickly said a prayer in my mind for wisdom and discernment in this situation
and the Lord told me what to say. I told Tracy that a lot of times God will
speak to someone through the voice and the words of people and I went on to
tell her that I felt that God had given me some words for her. As I opened my
mouth, the Lord began to speak through me to her. I spoke of His love for her,
his forgiveness, His desire to be intimately involved in her life, His great
understanding, and His ability to understand everything she’s gone through. His
words were like medicine to her soul and tears started to stream down her face.
Something in my heart told me that she that she had never heard words like that
from anyone before. I stand privileged to be the unworthy vessel Christ spoke
through to a broken soul.
It wasn’t the end; it was the beginning of something
beautiful. I told her I knew some wonderful women who would love nothing but to
pray and encourage her. And this they did, Charles, a little over a half dozen
of our ladies, and I surrounded her with prayer, encouragements, and prophecy.
Tracy accepted the Lord before us that day with one of the most genuinely
sincere and beautiful prayers I’ve ever heard. She was finally free from
bondage! Immediately after she began to speak truths and life over us, it was
powerful beyond words. The Lord completely took over her life. She was given a
Bible and money to get back on her feet, but most of all she was given LOVE and
LIFE everlasting. A battle was won that day in the spiritual realm and there
was a celebration in heaven a lost daughter came home to her Father. Every
moment is an opportunity, a chance to serve, and a chance to bring life to
those who are lost. Today, I’m thinking of Tracy a she walks the streets of
South Africa, a saint captivated by the love of the Father, not a murderer like
she was once thought she was…
Blessings,
Ben Gagne
