I want to share with you a small, but significant, story that happened to me a few days ago. This month we have been staying in the city of Almaty in southern Kazakhstan. It is the most populous city in the country. Islam is the dominant religion here. You don’t have to go very far in any direction before you come across the now familiar sight of the minarets of a mosque in the distance with the crescent moon on top, or women completely covered except for their face or eyes. I just wanted to give you a little background of where I’m at. A few days ago, two of my teammates and I were walking back from a nearby mall and I noticed that there was an elderly woman sitting on the sidewalk. She was obviously begging for money, but she was not bothering people or being pushy, she was simply sitting there with a little white plastic bowl in front of her watching people walk by. For some reason, I felt like the Holy Spirit was telling me to stop and give her some money. So I did. I thought about giving her some change which was what was already in the bowl, but I felt again that I needed to give her more. So I pulled out my wallet and took out 2,000 tenge (Kazakh currency), which is the equivalent of a few US dollars, but a lot more than what she would be accustomed to receiving. I put my wallet back in my pocket and knelt down so I would be level with her. I put the money in her bucket and then I looked her in the eyes. She was obviously very grateful and, even though I couldn’t understand a word she was saying because the common language here is Russian, I imagine she was thanking me. I looked into her eyes and I felt genuine love for this woman that I’ve never met before and will never meet again. I instantly pulled out my phone and used my google translate app to type out the words, “I am Christian. Jesus told me to tell you that he loves you and sees you.” I don’t know why I felt the need to say this. I did not prepare to do this beforehand. She read the words and she started crying. I still do not know what she was saying, but she grabbed for my hand and held it and pointed up to the sky. I again translated another statement. I said, “My name is TJ. I am from America. God loves you very much. Can I pray for you?” She was still crying and then she put her hands together as a symbol that she understood what I was wanting to do. So I prayed for her. I thanked God for making this woman and for loving her unconditionally as his daughter, no strings attached. I prayed that Jesus would reveal himself to her, if she did not already know him. I then stayed with her for a few more minutes holding her hand and just being with her showing her that she isn’t alone. I looked her into her eyes filled with tears and it’s like I had the feeling that I knew her. I could see the longing in her eyes, but also the gratefulness that I would stop and speak with her when most people would just ignore her and walk on by, or if she’s lucky, they might toss a coin or two. This feeling overwhelmed me and after I said goodbye and walked away, I cried. This woman is exactly who Jesus came for. The downtrodden, the outcast, the poor and needy, the orphans and widows. I can only pray that a seed was planted and that God will cause it to grow.
