I have been staring at a blank page for a while.
Sometimes words just flow. Sometimes there is a story burning to be told.
Other times, there are only the whispers of stories….stories that deserve to be heard. It is times like these I wish I was just sitting across a table from you, sharing hearts over a cup of coffee.
This journey is nearing completion. This month in Swaziland is already nearing an end, and then there is only one more month. It is hard to believe. And this makes me think back to what I have seen God do this year. Perhaps it makes you think the same.
For how much I have talked about darkness this year, there has been so much light too. There have been so many beautiful moments and divine appointments. These are what I want to share about today:
Of a lunch appointment in Phnom Phen, Cambodia that changed to an afternoon spent in a sunlit home, and ended with learning our new friend was battling lupus. Believing God to be Healer, my team gathered around her and pray. The miraculous happened….she was healed of lupus that day!!! A healing that will allow the Kingdom dreams God has given her become reality.
Of a night getting dinner along the waterfront in Phnom Phen, Cambodia. Sitting along a sidewalk at a restaurant, we had already been approached by many, many street vendors and beggars seeking our money. We have white skin, so we are rich – in their eyes. They do not understand why we cannot buy or do not have money to give away. While it is common to be approached, this was overwhelming.
Feeling helpless against the need, I asked God what He would have me do. I suddenly feel a poke in my arm. Looking around I saw two little street boys scurrying away. Tiny things grimy faces and torn clothes. At my grin, they came back and stood nearby. This started a game where they would poke me when my back was turned and run away with grins on their faces when I would look around. Back and forth, again and again. As we walked down the street, they came with us, swinging on our arms and running circles around our legs. Many strange looks were sent our way in an area of town filled with wealthy tourist. People tried to shoo them away from us, but we just kept playing and laughing with them.
When we finally had to say goodbye, we had to gently pry their arms off of us. A part of my heart was left there…in the eyes of these precious street children who, for an hour, didn’t have to be street children. They could just be loved.
Of a little girl in Sofia, Bulgaria that was a bully to the other children in the art school, but blossomed in the light of love.
Of a divine appointment in Bankya, Bulgaria, running into an elderly neighbor named Clavia while returning home after a prayer walk. Helping carry her groceries up the steep hills to her house, we then spent several hours at her house. Although we spoke different languages without a translator, that afternoon in her garden taught me that truly love needs no translation. We would see her several more times that month, and it was always the same. She would talk to us a mile a minute in her language, knowing we didn’t understand, but just that we cared.
Of street ministry in Farcasele, Romania where we had many conversations, but one stands out. Telling the story of God’s grace to an elderly couple, several other neighbors joined. As we shared that salvation is not something you could earn, one of the neighbors told us how she had so much fear over dying. As we talked to her, her eyes welled with tears as God touched her heart as she heard the hope of the gospel.
Of prayer walks and house visits in Kampot, Cambodia where we stumbled one morning upon a man named Nei who was doing beautiful woodworking. We stopped to visit with him and would begin visiting him and his wife Heom nearly every day throughout the month.
What began as quiet morning visits to one couple on the outskirts of the village soon became a small hub of neighbors visiting as we helped Heom make the rice dessert that she sold for their income every afternoon. But if their yard turned into a hub of curious neighbors, it was a place filled with laughter as we shared life together with this small, remote Buddhist community.
We would sit around the fire, helping where we could, and simply show we cared. One day, we accompanied her on her rounds, spending the whole afternoon with her.
At the end of this month, we gave them a bible as a gift. The treasure that we had to share.
Of teaching English in the public schools of Cambodia, and telling the children bible stories in the shadow of a huge Buddhist temple. And of the boy monks that would come and listen in the windows of the schoolrooms.
Of a night in India when we walked across the threshold of a brothel. Invited by several of the women, we were shown into a room that held the Madame, numerous women, and many small children. We prayed for every one of them. The Madame explained that she did not want to run the brothel, but she did not have options. These women did not have options. We asked God that night to open new doors into freedom.
Of another night in India when the streets were still flooded after cyclone rains. We visited several homes of church members, and we were praying over these families when a woman comes to the edge of the circle. Still almost hidden in the shadows, I see her and ask if she wants prayer. When she nods and approaches, Pastor Sam turns to me and asks me to share about Jesus, that it is a challenge.
I do not understand why it is a challenge, except that all of a sudden I had no idea what to say.
It is moments like these where you are thankful for the pauses required for translation.
What do I say to this woman that is waiting for prayer?
I explain the God that I pray to, his salvation, and his love for her. In a culture of Hindu faith, where the one true God is just another one to add on top of their thousands of gods, I find out God brought a Muslim woman to us that night. To reveal Himself to her as the God who sees her. That night, she had an encounter with the One True God.
Our last day in India, Pastor Sam called me to the courtyard entry of the house, and the woman was standing there with her daughter. I handed her a bible which she accepted, and told us that she wanted to know more about the God that I had told her about. She then asked me to pray again over both her daughter.
Seeds planted. Truth spoken. Love shown.
God never shows up in the way we expect, but He always shows up: in miracles, in power, in faithfulness, in laughter, and in quiet truth. Each story is God’s pursuit of a person – right where they are. And each one is precious to Him.
An encounter. It is where every God-sized story begins.
Who will encounter Christ in you today? Being ‘Jesus with skin on’……it is where we find Him too.
Let’s share His heart. It is without limits.
