We only sat with her for 30 minutes.
The Lord put this small town of San Marcos on our hearts and invited us to make this place a landing spot for our team. That’s where we found Beatrice, our landlord, a sweet and soft woman who provided us with a place to call home.
My teammate, Kelsey, and I asked about her family and she told us a few stories about her son and her daughter. She shared about her boyfriend and how long they have been dating. She told us about her love for cheesecake from her favorite restaurant in Antigua, Cafe Condesa. Then she told us her history with San Marcos, what this town spoke to her that enticed her to make the impressive move from France to Guatemala.
In those short 30 minutes, we listened to stories from her past and present.
We only sat with Beatrice for 30 minutes, but one thing that I’ve come to find is that the Lord is not confined by the limits of time. He can move mountains and soften hearts in a matter of minutes.
I fully believe that she felt the gaze of the Lord fall upon her, because at the end of our conversation she left us with such a profound statement.
“I always know when you guys are in the house. I feel a peace and a joy like I’ve never felt before. There is something mystical about you guys, but not like the rest of the people around San Marcos. It’s a truthful mysticism, it’s grounded and it feels real. “
I walked away from that conversation thinking that it was the best half hour I’d ever spent.
I live for moments like this.
Moments where sitting and listening actually speak His love the loudest.
Moments where I feel His spirit at work, stirring up the hope and possibility that there really is a God that knows her and sees her.
The next day as we were walking up to the house, Beatrice comes to meet us at the back door. We hugged, then we handed her a piece of her favorite cheesecake from Cafe Condesa.
Her jaw dropped in awe at the precious gift that sat in her hand.
A soft “Thank you! For me?” faltered out of her mouth.
In that instant I knew that she felt remembered, she felt known, and she felt loved.
She felt the gospel in its wholeness.
Holding that piece of cheesecake, she heard the story of a Father who desires a relationship with us above all else. A story of a God whose longing to be with us compelled Him to sacrifice His only son, making a way for us to enter the Garden of Eden once more. She heard a voice that said, “I know you, I love you, and I want to be with you.”
It only took 30 minutes for Beatrice to feel the weight of the Father’s affections.
Only half an hour for His peace to land deep within her heart.
And only one slice of cheesecake to speak the certainty of His love towards her.
I’m slowly beginning to understand what we are called to as long-term missionaries. It’s not necessarily about the “doing” or the “preaching” or the “ministering”; even though we always end up doing ministry, preaching His word, and ministering to His people. I believe that it’s a lot about the “living”, the “knowing”, and the “being”.
Through this living, His name is made known. Living out a life of freedom in a way that expresses His glory and His delight for His children, it’s the loudest form of the gospel that we can preach.
We never once felt the need to whip out our Bibles and start thumbing through the text to prove the existence of Christ. We didn’t feel the need to tell her that all of the mysticism of all the false religions that she has been chasing will get her nowhere.
We just simply sat, listened, and remembered.
The cheesecake spoke for itself.
He can love her more in a moment then other lovers could in a lifetime.
