When I was told that our ministry in Mozambique is doing crusades, I’m not going to lie, I was “none too happy”, as my mother would say. What is a crusade anyway? Were we just going travel around and stand on things, shouting at people to scare them into heaven? Hit people on the head until they fall over? The word crusade just sounds weird. I didn’t know everything it entails, but I knew I did not want to go. Then last Sunday happened.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. We (and by we, I mean the men) load the giant speakers into the trailer, along with a keyboard, microphones, lights and sound system. We jump into the back of the flatbed, and ride for about thirty minutes. People turn to stare as we drive by. I see a man nudge his friend and point. Others yell, and some wave, but everyone looks. This is normal. For us, it’s like every day is a parade.
It’s night and we continue to turn down roads of sand that seemingly become narrower and narrower. We stop and the guys jump out to literally pick up a car and move it over so we can pass by. We get to a very narrow alley in between a church and a house. “This is it?” I ask. “Si, let us get out,” my new friend Navi replies. We unload the trailer, blocking off the road.
We did a crusade in this village on Saturday. The children I met the night before run up to greet me. They form a tight circle around me, each trying to grab a hand or a piece of me. I’m so happy to see their faces. We sing and dance and worship for at least two hours. I’m exhausted from holding and twirling and jumping and falling. We did crusades on Thursday and Friday too, so I know the drill now. I reluctantly leave the kids to climb onto the stage. Johnfrank plays guitar and the rest of us sing. We choose the fastest worship songs we can think of, but they are still so slow compared to theirs. After we sing, Felito, our contact, preaches a short message, then asks for those who want prayer to come to the front. (We were told when we first arrived to simply lay hands on the shoulders when praying; no patting or rubbing, even when women pray for women. I guess it could be considered inappropriate.) Nearly everyone comes to the front. A couple women stand in front of me, then most of the children file in behind.
The first woman steps forward. I look into her eyes and smile before I begin. I quickly search her eyes for any indication as to what she might be going through, what her every-day life looks like, how I can pray. She speaks no English, and I don’t speak Portuguese so I just ask God to pursue her and create a pure heart in her. I ask Him to fill her heart and just overflow it with Himself. I pray that somehow, she will know how valued and incredibly loved she is. I pray for at least five minutes. I say “Amen” and look up at her. I know she doesn’t know what I’m saying, but I tell her anyway. “You’re beautiful and you’re so, so loved.” If it is possible to truly see pain, I do when I look in her eyes. I can tell she’s hurting. I can’t help it; I hug her. As soon as I hug her, she just collapses into me and begins to sob. It breaks my heart. So naturally, I start to cry too. The harder she cries, the tighter I hold her. We cry together and I just repeat to her how much God loves her; That He can replace her pain with joy. She can’t understand me, so I just pray that she can somehow hear my heart, if that makes sense, and that she will feel wholly enveloped in God’s love. Her crying calms, and as I release her she softly says “obrigada”, which means, “thank you.” She turns away. I focus my attention on the tiny stretched out hands in front of me. I bend down to hold them and begin to pray for the children. The crusade lasts for another hour or so. I finish praying for the kids and we are starting to pack up. We’re just about ready to leave and I see the first woman again. She’s smiling now, comforting another woman who is crying. Seeing this confirms some things in me. While these people don’t understand the words I say, they understand love. A ripple effect of Christ’s love is possible. I pray this continues within this village long after I’m here to see it.
The night was beautiful. The experiences, the people, they refresh me. What I thought would be my least favorite ministry of the race so far, has become my favorite. I’m so blessed to get to live among His people and love them.
Please continue to keep my team and me in your prayers. I currently need at least $2,200 by July 1st (36 days) to continue on, otherwise I will have to return home early. This is the last of the funds needed for the trip. I’m confident God will provide. Please pray with me about it.
I can never ever thank you enough for your support, your love, and prayers!
Spread His love, share His blessings.
Kids at one of the crusades
Precious little boy I met while in the village of Chibutu
