Moses said to the Lord, “You have been telling me, “Lead these people,’ but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. You have said, ‘I know you by name and you have found favor with me.’ If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you. Remember that this nation is your people.”
The Lord replied, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”
Exodus 33:12-14
During our first week of ministry in Panama, we went on a prayer walk around a city over which an air of loneliness, abandonment, and despair hangs heavily. We walked past several houses and stopped when we felt Holy Spirit leading us to pray over a specific home, family, yard, etc. We observed our surroundings, taking in the beauty of Panama and the hope of the Lord and the heaviness in the hearts of our neighbors.
Early on, I spotted two swings hanging from a leafless tree, gently swaying in the wind. They were in an overgrown yard with no apparent signs of human life aside from the empty swings. I stopped for a moment and asked Holy Spirit why he pointed them out to me. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I felt a little silly because maybe I only noticed them because I love to swing.
He gave me an image of a little girl, around seven years old, sitting by herself on the right-hand swing. She was holding on to the ropes loosely, looking around, gently using her feet to push her back and forth. She looked up when she heard a sound and noticed Jesus walking toward her. He sat down and began to swing with her. It didn’t look like either of them were talking. Just swinging side-by-side.
I smiled to myself and thanked Jesus for this sweet image. It felt like a hopeful reminder that Jesus is present, even in the lifeless, forgotten corners of the world.
I wondered who the girl was. I was grateful that she noticed Jesus was with her. I was grateful that she remained in his presence when he sat with her.
I kept walking.
All around me I noticed gray clouds, sunbeams, abandoned cars, colorful homes, crows circling empty lots, pretty flowers among the weeds, dead butterflies on the sidewalk, families sitting together on porches. Signs of darkness contrasted by signs of hope.
I prayed that God would let hope win in the hearts of the Panamanians.
I stopped in front of a gray, cinder-block house that had toys sitting by the door. A little girl dressed in colorfully-striped pants and a polka dot shirt. We played peek-a-boo for a couple minutes. She ran inside, and I continued walking. She ran back outside to shout “Ciao!”
I remembered the swings. I asked Holy Spirit to reveal to me more about the image I was handed. The scene changed. It was no longer a little girl swinging alongside Jesus but an older woman, possibly in her 70s or 80s. They were talking and laughing. The woman’s eyes glistened as she spoke, as if she knew he desired to hear more. She was gesturing wildly, and he was smiling as he listened to her story.
They were delighting in each other, Jesus and the woman. It seemed as though they spent years cultivating their relationship, their intimacy. It seemed as though she learned to trust Jesus with her stories and her laughter and her tears and her heart. It seemed as though they never stopped swinging side-by-side, from the moment he first walked up to the young girl sitting by herself until the moment I was witnessing now.
Certain moments of the race have felt exactly like the moment I stopped to ask Holy Spirit why he pointed out the swings: a little silly, mildly expectant, and hopeful. I’m learning to be okay with feeling silly. I’m growing in praying expectant prayers. He is continuously reminding me to be hopeful. I really love swinging with Jesus by my side.
