Wednesday morning I woke up feeling refreshed and energized. Bundled in a fleece jacket and blanket, my day began in the quiet of the morning meeting the Father outdoors at the table I have designated as my own quiet place. Despite being the first one up, I am usually the last to make it to the breakfast table…always trying to send one last email while I am the only one on the internet. After stuffing myself with foods such as sausage wrapped in funnel cake, sweet noodles that resemble macaroni and cheese, and ice cream bars (an American described version of a Moldovan breakfast) I quickly brushed my teeth, grabbed my bag, and headed out the gate to ministry.
Something went wrong between leaving the house and arriving at the church though. The car ride was a little longer than expected when our hosts had to make a few stops for errands. I fell into a restless sleep and awoke at the church grumpy and frustrated with a pounding headache. I trudged up the stairs, downed a few Ibuprofen, and attempted to be cheerful. My team was more than gracious offering for me to lay on a bench in the church and rest while they played with the children. I refused. I had already had a sick day this month and was not going to miss out on ministry once again.
We gathered the children in the shade of a nearby building. It’s really just the bones of a two story building. Dirt covering concrete for the bottom floor and walls made of roughly hewn stone blocks. The girls of my team sat on a low ledge laughing and face painting butterflies, stars, and flowers on eager faces. The boys rough housed with the younger boys, throwing them over their shoulders and making noises that appear to be universally hilarious to all males. And there I was, trying to participate, but weighed down by the pain radiating out from my head.
It became consuming and distracting, not just to me, but to my team as well. It was as if there were giant letters in flashing lights over my head saying, “Please Take Your Attention Away From The Children And Focus On My Personal Pain.” This had to stop.
I moved a few paces away and took in the surrounding valley. “God, you have been teaching me so much about Satan’s lies recently. It is a lie that I am too tired and in too much pain to participate in ministry. I claim your strength and peace for today. Please give me your heart for these children and show me what you have planned for me to do today.” I paused and noticed something different immediately, but could not place my finger on it. As I continued looking at the bright blue sky and rolling hills I realized my headache was gone. It felt very fragile; I almost didn’t want to move.
When I took that moment to claim God’s Truth over Satan’s lies, the Father healed me. I let the blessing begin to sink in and took a tentative step back towards the group. As I moved closer I basked in the realization that the headache wasn’t coming back. I plopped down on the ledge and began to play with the kids. Little girls began to play with my hair. Just as my thoughts began to stray to, “Oh please no, God just took away my headache”, the most gentle hands began manipulating the knotted mass on top of my head. Could it be? Was she actually? Yes, yes she was. This little Moldovan girl was French braiding my hair. I burst into joyful laughter and let her complete her masterpiece.
Since splitting off from the squad, the girls of Team Sojourner had been lamenting the fact that none of us knows how to French braid. And here was this young girl I was supposed to be ministering to blessing me. Healing and blessing all in one. God is so good.
