Every Racer wishes for a day like that day. A day where everything you do for the kingdom makes sense. As most of you might know, my life chapter is Isaiah 61. The first time it was read to me, it was almost like the Lord was whispering it into my ear. Ever since then it has been a scripture that has encouraged and focused me.
In Zambia (month 6 or June), there was a week when our group did door-to-door evangelism in a small village named Libuyu. We split up into groups of three or four, paired up with a translator and set out into the sunrise to pray and minister to the people of Libuyu. I saw some incredible things that morning. I even saw a lady get healed, but however cool that moment was, that was not the moment that has stayed with me 4 months later.
Towards the end of the morning, my team and I came up to a house where a teenage girl was sitting outside on the pouch. She looked sad.
“I think that we should go to this house” Sims, our translator said.
“Yeah, I am getting that feeling too.” One of my other team members replied.
So we went.
Sims asked the girl if we could come on the property. The girl nodded her head yes, but as soon as we approached she ran into the house. About 30 seconds later, she returned with her mother, who looked just as defeated as her daughter did. After a very short conversation, the woman invited us into her home. Her home was small, about the size of two small bedrooms put together. We all piled onto the three purple couches in the living room. For a few minutes we all sat in silence not really knowing what to say. Finally we introduced ourselves to each other. Her name was Judith. After a bit Andrea, another one of my teammates, asked what she had been doing before we came in. She said she had been reading through Psalms 6.
Go open your bible and read Psalms 6. Isn’t that such a sad psalm? That is some heavy stuff to be reading at 8 am in the morning. I felt the Lord pressing upon my heart to share with her Psalms 34, which is my favorite psalm. This led to everyone in the room sharing their own favorite psalm. It was in that moment when the Lord surged into the house. But what happened next is what I still remember clear as day. After the psalms sharing, Nicole asked how we could pray for Judith. Almost immediately she launched into a heart-wrenching story about how her husband had left and married a younger woman a month before. He had left her with four children, and no way to support herself. That’s when she broke. And with nothing left in her, she started to weep.
I can’t explain to you that weep. It’s the same weeping I heard from my mother when my father left. It is a weeping that can only come from extreme pain, despair or hopelessness. When the Bible talks about the “cry of the broken”, this is the cry I think of. I knew this woman’s pain, because I had experienced it myself trying to comfort my own mother. And there is nothing you can say or do to comfort someone who weeps like that. The only thing you can do is hold onto that person and let them know that the sun will shine again soon. That joy comes in the mourning. And so that’s what we did. We held her as she wept. At some point during that time found myself praying out loud over her.
“… to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and to provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow upon them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of the spirit of despair.They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor… Instead of their shame, my people will receive a double portion. And instead of disgrace, they will rejoice in their inheritance; and so they will inherit a double portion in their land, and everlasting joy will be theirs.” (Isaiah 61:2-7)
The Lord in that moment was speaking those words audibly over Judith and to Judith. I knew that our prayers where being heard. That the Lord had heard this woman’s weeping. He was there, with His gentle arms around her doing the very thing she needed- comforting her. It was one of the most beautiful pictures of the God I have seen.
Never have I seen scripture come to life like I did in those moments. I saw her future become reality. Her mourning turned into gladness. Into praise. Into beauty.
I wanna to say that after we left Judith’s that day, she was jumping for joy. She wasn’t, but she was smiling. Her hope was rising. And that’s what I think has stuck with me for this long. Her hope. Her hope in everlasting joy.
