Before you dismiss this blog as a typical “Natalie Dache doesn’t believe in education” post, hold on one second- this might not be exactly what you think.
My team and I arrived in Vellore Monday night, a little stiff from the long bus ride but otherwise pumped up for a week of teaching, preaching, sharing the Gospel and advertising the healing crusade that will be happening this weekend. Since the sun was setting as we pulled into the city, the only thing we did (besides drive around looking for a place to stay) was go to the field that will soon host 20-30 thousand people and pray over it.
As we went around the circle, each praying for healing and restoration and the glory of God to be revealed here in Vellore, a little boy started crying. He had gotten separated from his grandpa (who was calmly standing a few feet away, chatting with some buddies and not letting the little boy out of his sight). The child’s cry continued as he stood rooted to the spot, unable to see a familiar face, unsure of what to do, unaware that he was surrounded by his grandparents and their friends who were watching out for him the whole time.
The child’s cry broke my heart, and as I stepped out of our circle to go take his hand and lead him home, I heard one of my team members pray, “Lord, remove all distractions…”
I almost stopped, but thought better of it, and walked right up to the child who looked up at me with his precious tear streaked face, clutching my hand with a death grip while giving me the “who are you and what have you done with my Mommy?” look as he followed me back to his grandpa. When we arrived, I was able to speak with the man, and found out that this little boy’s mother works in DC, lives in Springfield (where she is right now), and met his grandma (who unsuccessfully tried to get Robert, the little boy, to wave at me).
That day, I chose to help out a lost, scared toddler instead of pray.
I can’t say I regret the decision.
Tonight, we were in the slums doing an evangelism outreach, and in the middle of the Gospel presentation there was a loud commotion. It turned out to be a man beating his wife. Again, a teammate said, “it’s a distraction, just ignore it.” More because I didn’t want to worsen the situation by adding a white face to the growing mob, I listened and stayed put, but looking back, I don’t have any peace over the situation.
They say, “don’t let school get in the way of your education.” What I think that means is, don’t become so obsessed with tests and grades and pleasing your teachers that you miss out on what they’re trying to teach you- an easy thing to do in a results driven culture.
It makes me wonder how the ministry culture is acting. Are we becoming similarly results driven? Are we so intent on sticking to our wonderful plans that we miss out on where God can actually use us? Is it more important to pray for thousands of people coming in the future or to help the one little boy who is lost now? Do we sit by and listen to an evangelist preaching the good news when just a few houses down a woman is fighting for her life?
When I was a kid, my questions all had easy answers. These days, though, not only are the answers hard, oftentimes they don’t exist. Life is increasingly proving to be a paradox: we are saved by grace but we have to accept it; our flesh is sinful but we are no longer its slave; God is bigger than the universe He created but He’s counted the hairs on my head (even when they’ve only been cold- water- bucket- showered a few times) and He loves me.
I don’t know what the best thing to do in these situations is, but at the very least, I can (and did) pray. And we all know that well known verse, the one that has become so used and repeated and mulled over that it’s like a favorite tee shirt or a wonderful pair of broken in jeans: “the prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective” (James 5:16). God knows our hearts- I guess I have to trust Him to work through my hesitations and fears to declare His glory to the nations.
