*The names of the people in this blog have been changed*
It was 8:30pm this night. Some of the other squad mates were going to watch a documentary as a squad but I was thinking about going to bed. 8:30pm is normally my bedtime here because #1- I’m a “grandmom” (at least that is what my sisters tell me), and #2 because my team wakes up when the sun rises and is normally tired by the time the sun sets (probably the way life is in general for most third world countries because there is not much electricity).
But anyway…
As I’m sitting on the ledge on the second floor, I see a car come up to the compound and beep the horn. I didn’t think anything of it because this is a pretty big ministry and things get dropped off all the time. However, I knew something was wrong when Papi Lee called for one of the staff members and asked us to come into his home immediately so we could offer prayer to a little 14-year old girl.
She had just been raped.
My heart dropped. Some of the females on my squad came into the house to find a little girl, teary eyed with hopelessness and fear in her eyes. She looked lost like she didn’t know what to expect. We immediately surrounded her and prayed out loud all at once. I wonder how she felt with all of these white people (and me and Carly, lol) laying our hands on her and speaking a language she did not understand. Then the part that hit me most happened.
A 16-year old girl who lives here walks in the house. I will call her Isabella. I have interacted with Isabella often as she is one of my favorite people here- but she is a just a baby to me. I try to serve and love her by cracking jokes, singing songs on my iPod and dancing to her favorite music. She is very playful and I want her to be a teenager and do things most teenagers do… even though she has a child of her own. I saw her in such a different light that night.
Isabella introduced herself to the girl and just started talking about her story. I could see the pain in her eyes as tears formed and fell when she talked about how she was repeatedly raped by her father and now has a daughter as a result. She told her entire story with such pain in her eyes. Although I did not experience that exact same event, I recognized and connected with that pain in her eyes. The pain of past struggles and past hurts. At one point or another, I believe we’ve all shared that emotion. I empathized with her as tears welled up in my own eyes. Although she has been through so much, she was still able to be vulnerable in the moment this young girl needed a deep human connection most. She literally turned her pain and her position into her own pulpit. I felt a shift in the room as she told her she was Christian and that everyone in that house was Christian and had their own struggles and testimonies. She went on to say that we loved Jesus through it all and were willing to drop everything to tell the nations about Him to give Him honor and glory. She was spot on. If that girl was not Christian, Isabella planted so many seeds. I’ve never seen anyone minister to another in the way she did that night. I was so proud of her.
The night ended with the girl (although still visibly shaken by what just happened to her) feeling a sense of security and protection where she was… and most importantly not feeling like she was alone. I asked her if she wanted to watch a movie. She said yes and we watched Tangled together. I was on one side of her and my friend and squad mate Nicole was on her other side. We had her sides and God had her back. He was always with her… even in the hard times. That is what Isabella explained to her. God bless them both.
What I took away from that night was the fact that vulnerability is about sharing our experiences with people who have the right to hear them. Vulnerability builds trust. If we as people trust each other, it could potentially make it easier for the idea of trusting God.
I think it is important for me as a missionary to establish relationships- not just walk around villages in different countries praying for people. But to be raw, real and honest with people about life. Shame is universal- there is no one who is exempt from those feelings. We all have good, bad and indifferent parts of us. That is what makes us human. A lot of times, my experience with some church folk is that they act as if they have it all together… but we don’t… at least I know I don’t. We are often times disconnected from the people. Jesus wasn’t though. In fact, He was all about human connection. I think we should get back to those days… but these are my thoughts. Just my thoughts.
XOXO,
Belle
Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of comfort; who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.
2 Corinthians 3-4
