Have you ever heard the soul cry?
I have. It is a sound
like no other. It is a sound that
pierces. A sound that breaks your heart, that makes your own soul share in the
pain. It is a sound that only the Father
can quiet.
We had already been doing outreaches for a few days. They were filled with worship, prayer, a
short sermon, and praying for the sick. We had not yet had the opportunity to do a drama, so we decided that
tonight was the night. After our usual
jovial dancing and unabashed worship the drama team was introduced. The music intro began, and the the words “It
hasn’t always been this way” came over the speakers…
The team was doing great, everything right on queue, and the
power of the reenactment was felt throughout the people. Then,
during Jesus’ triumphant rising, I saw
a women start walking toward the actors with her child in
hand. She was kind of staggering, I thought maybe
she was drunk. Then, without reservation
or hesitation she walks right up to Jesus, falls into an embrace, and
starts wailing. It takes a couple of people to pull her off
of him and to settle her down in the distance so the team could finish.
My heart was stirred. I knew God was asking me to go pray for her. When I arrived she was crying harder, hands
in the air, shouting something in Swahili.
The scars on her face revealed abuse, and my spirit sensed it
was from her husband. She looked up into my eyes,
pleading for someone to care. I sat down next to her, got a
translator, and
listened to her story.
She was married, with three children. Her husband found some
wealth, and instead of
providing for her, he took two of the three children and left. She
had nothing. No food, no home, no hope. She was at a point of
surrender; in fact, that
is what she was shouting in Swahili, “I Surrender.” You could tell
all of her strength was
gone. She had fought long and hard for
herself and her children, and every time she tried to calm down, the
wailings
of her soul burst through and she would start to weep all over
again.
I prayed for her to know the comfort of a loving
Father. I prayed that she would know his
provision. I prayed she would let her
soul grieve, and after she would find joy and peace.
That night she and her daughter stayed with a woman from a
sister church. I don’t know if she
stayed with her longer, but I do know her flesh could go no further. In a time of desperation her spirit did the
only thing it knew to do, cry out for a Savior.
