the gift of tears

There is something about God’s Spirit in me that allows people to open
up to me.  I hope that my vulnerability to God is what is so attractive
to these strangers I’m meeting with.  They are divine appointments for
these people who have no problem crying on my shoulder.  I don’t have a
set schedule to report of while we’re here in Guatemala this month. 
Every day is incredibly different than the last.  Even if we do have
something planned, God shakes up our expectations and refuses to live
inside the boxes we create for Him.  But what I do know is that God has
something to teach me every day and the more I obey Him…the more He
introduces me to gifts of His Spirit to bring Him greater glory.  This
week…it’s the gift of tears.

 

Two days ago a group of us made some cards with scriptures in Spanish and decorated them.  We attached them to small bundles of flowers to hand them out to prostitutes in the red light district of Puerto Barrios later that night.

 

I was very intimidated and confided to my team that I was afraid of coming off as “cheesy” to these women when I handed them their flowers and asked to pray with them.  I can only imagine how it must feel to sell your body for men to have you so that you can provide for your family.  In the course of the night, my heart began to ache for these women and their families.  My teammate Amanda and I approached a worker standing outside a building and a prostitute was talking with him.  I didn’t realize it at first, but the little boy trying to climb the tree we walked past was her son.  Amanda and I talked in what little Spanish we knew and just got to ask them questions and pray with them.  The mother sweetly accepted the flowers from Amanda and I remember how happy it made me feel when later I saw her walking down the street–leaving the district–with her boy in tow, and the flower still in her hands.  She didn’t have to accept that word or that prayer.  She could easily have tossed that flower in the trash, but she didn’t.

 

Twice that evening as we walked by a strip club my heart began to break.  The second time I began to weep and there was just no point holding it in.  I felt the pain of broken families and addictions come over me.  I prayed to God that that place would be destroyed sooner.  I asked boldly that business would stop and that the young women inside would be set free from their chains of bondage.  I had a vision of a young woman inside there who ached just to have a minute to come outside for fresh air.  She was suffocating in there.  I don’t know how she came to be there, but I knew that God was going to rescue her from that place very soon.

 

Then yesterday afternoon, our group walked down some tiny streets in Santo Tomas to pass out Spanish gospel tracts and pray with the people we encounter.  Believe it or not the very first corner we turned, there was a bar.  The very first person I saw was a young woman standing alone.  I approached her, said hello and introduced myself and told her about who I was walking with.  I asked if I could pray with her and she began to cry.  I don’t know what it is (and my teammates can testify to this), but I make people cry.  It became difficult to hear what she was saying to me (and her words were just a litlte bit slurred too), so I invited her to talk with me outside.  It turns out that yesterday was her 17th birthday and she was all alone.  She told me her name was Yulma and some stuff about her family. I apologized that I didn’t know enough to pray for her in Spanish, but she accepted my offer.  Before we even prayed she let more tears fall.  As we prayed God told me to embrace her.  I held her head in my hands and let her rest her head on my shoulders.  She continued to cry and grasp me.  I prayed over her addictions and her family as God gave me insight to her life.  I saw how beautiful she was and how caring her heart is.  I wrapped my arms around her and spoke truth and love into her life.  When we finished I repeated over and over that God loves her.  She received that and thanked me.

 

Whether it’s me crying or someone I’m praying with, we find out release and love in Jesus Christ.  The tears release our pain and worry that buildup in our bodies until it can’t be contained anymore.  The burden becomes to great to physically bear.  Recognizing that the burden is not ours to bear, we can approach God …tears and ALL…and rest our head on His shoulders, let Him embrace us and speak truth and life into us.  It’s such a beautiful thing.