Adventures WorldRace SethBarnes Sponsorship Giving

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 The first house we had gone to that day was ready for Jesus. The woman’s husband had specifically asked us to come share the Gospel with his Muslim wife. She wanted to hear about Jesus and was excited about giving her life to him.
 
But even as Tres led her through a Sinner’s Prayer, she began breathing heavier. For some reason unbeknownst to me I began crying. It’s like I could feel what she was feeling. The pastor nonchalantly declared “She has a demon,” (a phrase that is much too common here) so the four of us gathered around her and prayed. After a few minutes, she was breathing regularly, feeling lighter, and looking like a completely different person. She agreed to come to church on Sunday and warmly hugged and kissed each one of us goodbye. Praise God for a new sister!

And that was only the first 30 minutes of our day.

 
After that I just wanted to go home. I was emotionally and spiritually spent for the day. But the rest of the team wasn’t feeling well and needed to go home, so I had to push through. I marched on, with just Tres and the pastor now, praying that the rest of the day would get easier.
 
Little did I know what God had planned all along…

We came to another house. Two women were sitting on the front porch. With a Swahili “karibu” they welcomed us to sit. I asked their names and we each introduced ourselves. We found out the one of the girls was Christian while the other one was Muslim. The Muslim woman’s name was Grace. After a few minutes they invited us inside. I began telling them about Jesus, but only got through the creation story before Grace started weeping. I sat at her feet and placed my hands on her knees, begging the Lord to release her from whatever was plaguing her heart. I was already crying again. I don’t know why, but when she saw me crying too, Grace grabbed my hands. She gripped them tightly and stared back at me, telling me of her torment through her eyes. As she calmed down Tres urged me to sit next to her, so I did, not wanting to take my hands away from her.

I only got through a little bit more of the gospel, before the crying started again. This time she was shaking. As I put my arm around her, tears falling down my face, she buried herself into me. She embraced me so firmly, gripping onto the back of my shirt, and we just cried. It was only a few minutes, then the pastor felt called to pray for freedom in her as well. He turned and asked one of the other women in the house some questions about Grace. That’s when we learned that they didn’t even know her.

It turns out that Grace had showed up to the house a short while before we strolled up. She was in need of a job and had come by this home to see if she could be hired as a house-girl. In the few minutes she was stopped her, we arrived. None of the women in the house knew her story or what was plaguing her. They thought she was simply another woman begging for work, but God gave us eyes to see her for who she really was: a daughter of God.

She listened to the words God spoke through Tres and I. She received Jesus and gave her life to her Father. As we finished the prayer, Tres looked at her and recited Acts 2:38 “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” Then he turned to the woman who owned the house and said 5 words I’ll never forget:

“Do you have a bucket?”

 
The women brought us a big bucket filled with water and we stepped outside in front of the house. The pastor was asking questions, never having seen anything like this before. Grace got on her knees and bent backwards, the pastor and I supporting her head. And there, in front of everyone, Tres baptized Grace.
 

 
                  
 
Soon after, we headed back home. Grace came along, conversing with the pastor as we walked. They stopped and the pastor took some money out of his pocket and handed it to Grace. To be honest, I was really surprised. It’s rare that you see someone pull out cash and hand it to a complete stranger, even on the Race. Grace started telling us goodbye and I gave her a hug. I remembered that I had shoved a brand new Swahili Bible into my purse that morning (we had “conveniently” purchased an entire box the night before) and I asked the pastor if I could give it to her. He agreed, so I eagerly handed her the Bible and we went our separate ways.
 
The pastor then shared Grace’s story: Grace is married. Well, she was. Her husband is Muslim and together they had a one child. Tragically the child passed away and just the day before we met her, Grace’s husband had chased her off, throwing her out on the street. She had gone from happily married with a child to abandoned and alone. Her only real goal now was to get back home, but her parents’ home was over 2 hours away and she had no money. Utterly hopeless, she set out to find a job. And that’s when we met her.
 
The pastor also explained the money he gave Grace. He said if she gets a job then it was for her to do with as she wills. But if she can’t find work, it was more than enough for her to get home.

God orchestrated everything that day. The timing, the Bible, Grace’s heart, everything. And now Grace has the one thing she truly needs: a Savior. I am completely dumbfounded at God. I mean, I guess that’s nothing new, but every time I think about that day I praise God for his perfectly intricate design. The way he wove all 4 of our lives together is breath-taking.

And to make things better, Grace even came to church this Sunday, looking like a completely different person, giving me hope that her hope is completely restored.