Before I begin, I have to tell you how difficult it is to put my emotions into words.
For reference, I sat at my computer for 30 minutes unable to type. I just felt everything- beauty, pain, joy, peace, suffering, comfort, love. I curled up in a ball on the tile in our living room overwhelmed by how much God has allowed me to feel. In this moment, it is unbelievably frustrating to not be able to communicate with words everything I feel.
I guess I’ll take a different approach.
Thursday morning.
Julia, Aidyn, Erin, Aly and I skip breakfast and get on the most packed bus I have ever been on. Erin, quite literally, was hanging out the back doors scared she may not fit. Luckily, there was one man who came behind her and pushed everyone into the bus.
We get off and hike up this huge hill past Pan de Vida to our favorite coffee shop to buy breakfast and 2 loaves of bread.
Back at PDV we set up two tables, six blank canvases, sixteen pieces of bread, four plates of paint and tons of brushes.
Everything after this point is good stuff. So if you’ve tuned out- tune back in.
Six women working to begin a sewing micro business walk up from the basement.
They sit down. Some would rather sit next to their friends, but name plates have already been prayed over and specifically placed.
They have known competition: who will get more money for their work, who will receive better fabric.
None of them speak English, none of us speak fluent Spanish.
Then the Lord enters into the room as I read from Isaiah 61 in Spanish.
It says,
“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion-
to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor.
The space is no longer a room of strangers but a room of sisters.
We break bread together, and the spirit of competition dissolves.
Aidyn and Erin step to the front of the room.
Erin thrives in creation. Her passion for art and her deep desire for unity encourage these women to be honest with themselves and with the people around them. She blesses me more than she knows.
They introduce the idea of painting your story- being enabled by means other than words to communicate the work that God has done and what He will do.
Aidyn boldly shares her own painting and exemplifies what it looks like to communicate so beautifully in this way.
I am thankful to know Aidyn, her wisdom and kindness seep through every time she speaks.
The next 30 minutes are spent in silence, the only thing to break it was Erin asking to hold one of the ladies’ child while she paints.
The outpour of history humbled me.
My story is not minimized nor greater than the stories of these ladies- but I am humbled to have been in the room as each of them spoke.
Fear was cast out, hesitation belittled, uncomfortability ignored.
Norma, Beatriz, Sonia, Estefania, Glenda, and Jenny.
One has a special needs son. She used to question why God would do this to her, why she would be asked to carry this burden. It was hard. She didn’t know what to do. But as the years went on she discovered something about the Lord she didn’t expect. She loved her son so much, when it was hard, when it was easy, when it didn’t make sense. She just loved him. And now she understands that God loves her just as much and even more than she loves her son. She gets to walk in sonship, a daughter of the King.
One was hit and hurt by her family as a child. As she’s grown she has grown to know and love God and she knows now how much she is valued and cherished by God. Because of the work of God and the ways He has used Pan de Vida, she is so much more than a victim, but she is a child of the Sovereign One. She has power and strength and is able to meet her needs by the work of her hands.
Four more stories like these were shared that day, each a story of brokenness mended by the gentle hands of God.
Each a story of ashes, from which grew beauty.
Julia is so talented in playing guitar and singing, but even more so she is talented in knowing how to worship the Lord in authenticity and genuine cries out to God. There is no performance, no desire to receive the praise. I praise God because she is on my team.
She leads us in worship, praising God in Spanish because he makes the darkness tremble and he silences fear.
As a unified body, we end in prayer. Honoring the vulnerability and the strength that these women have shared.
Here I will share my own painting:
You all know how much I love words.
But for today, this painting communicates my life story better than anything I could come up with in this moment.
My story is unique, but every story of salvation hinges on brokenness mended but the gentle hands of God, a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
