This morning, I awoke to a loud pounding on the door of the church. It’s not uncommon at Iglesias la Antoracha, which sits in the heart of Trujillo, Peru’s El Milagro district. The building, which houses two classrooms, two bedrooms (which we appreciate dearly), a church, and a suite for Pastor Auden, his wife Wendy, and their two kids, is a beacon in a community that is in dire need of Christ. The church, which takes up a majority of the space, is where I sleep, and our visitor stood knocking on the gate at the end of the room.
As I cautiously opened the door, a small elderly woman greeted me with a smile while clutching her bible close to her heart. She began speaking to me in Spanish, and after a moment, she queued my response. I told her, in broken Spanish, something along the lines of, “Sorry. I don’t speak Spanish. One moment, please” as I went searching for a bilingual teammate.
Paolina, who I soon recognized from the prayer meeting the night before, came to pray at the altar. She walked eagerly to the stage, knelt down, and began crying out to God. Her voice echoed off the cinderblock walls, as she lifted up her petitions to the Lord.
Spanish words poured out of her, and despite the fact that I couldn’t understand what she was saying, I understood her heart and connected with her in that moment. Later, we would come to find out that she was praying for comfort and healing as she struggled with her arthritis. Sean explained what she was praying for, and he was amazed by the fire behind her words, the authority with which she spoke, and the way she called upon the power of the Lord to restore the city, deliver her people from darkness, and bless the church.
Later in the evening, she returned to pray. I joined her at the alter and worshiped God with one of only a handful of songs I’ve learned to play.
Holy Spirit you are welcome here.
Come flood this place and fill the atmosphere.
Your glory God is what our hearts long for.
To be overcome by your presence, Lord.
I wanted what she had, but I didn’t understand why I felt such conviction.
I thought once I left for the world race, I would finally have time to spend with God with no distractions. With my slate clean, this would be the moment when I changed my habits. It hasn’t worked that way. It’s still a struggle, if not more so. There are just as many excuses as there were at home. When I saw the fire and passion behind the tears of that woman, something stirred in me. During my quiet time listening from God, I asked Him if there was anything that I had done that offended Him. He responded with this word.
Do you not delight in me? I want to speak with you. Come sit with me. Root yourself along my river of life. Drink from my waters. Make me your priority, and I will watch over you.
So, that is what I am going to do – come to the altar.
