I’m not sure I was exactly looking for it, but I found myself in the middle of a miracle while in the middle of a bus terminal in the middle of the morning on Saturday.
I sat there staring at the pile of luggage in front of me, wishing I hadn’t been stuck behind at the bus terminal while the rest of my squad had ventured into town. People came and went, as I sat listening to Spanish chatter but mostly consumed with my own thoughts of wishing I could be in a cafe somewhere checking Facebook and drinking coffee instead of sitting on this cold cement bench watching everyone else’s luggage.
A woman came and sat in between myself and another sqaudmate. I paid little attention until I heard the woman turn to my squadmate and ask her a question in Spanish, to no avail, since she spoke little Spanish in return. She gave me a pleading look, and the woman turned to me and began to ask me where we were from and where we were heading. I began conversing with her comfortably in Spanish, giving her the regular spiel about our 11 month trip to 11 countries. For some reason, when I told her we were missionaries, something in our conversation changed.
She began to share about her own life, about how she was waiting at the bus station to pick up an elderly woman who she helped three times a week to see a doctor in the area. This woman waits very Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday in that bus station to take care of an abuelita, and for the first time, there was someone here to take care of her.
Her name was Betty, and she began sharing more and more with me about her life, her kids, and her husband, and I could tell she felt terribly alone. As she shared her struggles with me, tears filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks, as the pains of her story seemed to be pouring out for the first time also. She told me how she was Catholic but had abandoned that at some point, but still cried out to God in times of need. She felt guilty though, feeling bad that she only prays when bad things are happening — apparently this feeling knows no cultural boundaries.
She told me she wished she could come back to the States with me in my luggage, a request I’ve gotten several times this year; but I told her we have the same problems there that anyone could have here in Peru. I shared with her the hope that God loves her, that He isn’t angry with her, and that He cares for her. I reminded her of the Bible verse that says “Cast your burdens on Him for He cares for you,” and mostly I listened. She thanked me for listening, and gave me a heartened smile as she wiped her tears, looking a little less burdened than she had before.
I told her that I knew of several Christian church communities in the area where she could find a family, and people who would care for her. She responded with great interest and eagerly whipped out a small notebook and pen to take down the names. Not coincidentally, my team had spent a week in Arequipa earlier this month scouting out great churches that will soon be World Race hosts — I was one of very few people on our squad who could actually offer her a few connections to Christian community in the area. God is the divine appointment maker. Miraculously, I remembered not only the names but the neighborhood and street names of the churches, only by the grace of the Holy Spirit. She was noticeably brighter in heart and spirit, and as I wrote down the info, the abuelita arrived on her bus. I followed Betty as she led abuelita to the restroom, and then offered to pray for her, which I did in English and then poorly in Spanish.
Moments after I finished praying for her my squadmates and teammates began arriving back at the terminal, offering Starbucks and McDonald’s treats to share, which I was grateful for. But no American comfort food or selfish indulgence could have compared to what I knew was a greatly divine Maker interceding to make his deep love known to a lonely woman.
I’m reminded of something I read recently from a book called The Circle Maker, which I would highly recommend. It says, “God is great not just because nothing is too big for Him; God is great because nothing is too small for Him. A sparrow doesn’t fall without His noticing and caring…God loves showing His all-encompassing compassion in little ways, and if we would learn to obey His promptings…we would find ourselves in the middle of miracles a lot more often.”
So as small as it seems, that’s how I found myself in the middle of a miracle.
