It was our last day in a village here in southeast India. We have prayed countless prayers, and we have been fed way too much over the course of the last 4 days. This village just took it out of me. I was feeling quite exhausted. Spiritually, mentally and physically. We were supposed to be heading back to our main base between villages when they told us we would we eat lunch in the village. I about lost it!
“Not another meal,” I thought, “I just can’t.”
We started walking down the road. I was wearing my pissy pants, but understanding that this was not the time. The Father gently reminded me just one more. Be a gracious guest and feel the joy I have given you.
I quickly decided He was right and that I needed an attitude check. We walked up to the home. They greeted us, so thankful we would come to their home to share a meal with them. (Which looks more like them watching us eat…they culturally wait and eat after us.)
We laughed the whole meal, saying “small, small”…hoping for smaller portions. I made faces at Roja, the pastor’s daughter, as she sat across from me. We enjoyed each other’s company and with full bellies and empty plates they moved us to the seats outside their home.
We sat, smiled, offered to pray over the family and home, prayed and then like clockwork more food- haha- I am telling you they love to feed us. As the giant bowl of bananas came around, all of us laughed feeling more ready to cry. There was no more room, but we all ate one of the two and thanked them so much.
As we were waiting for Pastor to finish, we sat and talked and laughed. We took pictures with the kiddos and played. Our translator and friend Monibob always keeps us laughing. She is AMAZING, and I love her dearly!
As we were about to leave, a teammate of mine pointed out an elderly woman on a cot, in the corner, behind where we had been sitting.
I thought to myself, “How did I not see her? Why was I so blinded to my surroundings?”
My teammate said, “Some people walked past her with the bananas and she reached out for one and they didn’t give her one. Can we?”
I told her, “We absolutely should.”
She wanted to ask Monibob if that was culturally okay. I started to be angered by that.
“Asking to feed a hungry old woman…who cares about culture?! Are you kidding me? Let’s feed her and pray over her!” My thoughts were running rampant.
Thankfully Monibob said we could give her the banana.
I was holding one and reached my arm out towards the teammate that had noticed her first. I said, “Here you want to?”
She said, “That’s okay, you can.”
I hesitantly nodded and walked over to the lady. I knelt down beside her, a couple other teammates with me. I handed her the banana, realized she was too weak to open it and opened it for her. I handed the open banana to her. She took it, her hands fragile. We prayed over her as she ate. After the prayer was over my other teammates left, but I couldn’t get up. Something was holding me there.
I kept saying softly to her, “God loves you. You are chosen in His eyes.” Crying out to the Lord, “Father hold her in your arms. Provide for her. Show her your tenderness and comfort her in her pain.”
Over and over again I prayed these words. Tears started to form in my eyes. At first I tried to stuff them back in, not wanting this woman to see me cry. God changed my perspective quickly though. Whispering softly to me, “show her how much you care.” With that my heart broke and all the tears poured out. I prayed and I prayed. I told her time and time again how much the Lord loved her. I prayed she would know Christ as her savior and that I would meet her again someday in Heaven. I prayed that my prayers being in another language than her own would be heard and understood. The woman kept trying with all her strength to speak to me. I wouldn’t have been able to understand her regardless, but I told her she was heard and seen. That the Father was with her. He was holding her. She was in a safe place and the gates of Heaven would welcome her when her time came. I felt God’s hand, He loved her dearly. I felt myself about to really lose all control of my emotions.
I kissed her sweet, frail hand and stood up.
One step away and I was sobbing. My heart shattered into ten thousand pieces. My heart hurts for people often, my empathy constantly flowing. It has only felt truly broken for two people before this lady and I didn’t expect to feel such pain. I had only just met her, I didn’t even know her name. Yet, all I wanted to do was scoop her up and take her with me. Why had the Lord broken my heart for her?
We headed back down the road and I wept, unable to stop the emotions flowing from my broken heart. I saw a well and sat beside it, telling my team I needed some time with the Lord.
I prayed over her more. I thanked the Father for my heart He had given me. I prayed over her life and acceptance of Christ as Savior and her welcoming into Heaven’s gates. I asked the Father “why? Why my heart? Why me? Why this woman? Why is it always the unseen and forgotten? What is it you are showing me? What is your fingerprint in all this? Father, where are you in all this?” As I cried and cried out to my Father I felt His warm embrace. I felt His guidance and authority. He was in control and He loved deeply. He gave me a heart like His and He would show me what to do with it. He held me and whispered softly, “You don’t need all the answers right now, just feel and trust me.”
A broken heart may hurt and take time to heal, but showing someone you care and how deep the love of the Lord is for them is worth all the pain in the world. 
