In early April, we were out "fishing," my roommate and I. After a couple of awkward conversations, we were feeling like maybe the afternoon would be a flop. Then we just started talking to these women we were walking beside on the sidewalk. "Can I help you carry that bag? It looks really heavy," I asked. We walked side by side carrying the load, and soon enough, we were invited to their beach picnic. It was 2 moms and 4 girls. As always the conversation turned spiritual quickly. I love looking back on that day. The mothers were somewhat interested in the topic, but I will never forget those little girls sitting on their knees with their heads tilted up, eyes locked on us, and soaking in every word of the good news. One of the girls, an early teenager, began to tell us about how she and her mom live alone since they left their father and escaped him when she was still young. Her mother had married when she was 15 and he was 40. Abuse and abandonment: a story too common in this place. The cultural shame of a mom and teenager living alone is heavy, but she has found refuge in a couple of neighbors that have become her best friends. We told her boldly that God shows us in his word that he is a loving Father, and he can be that for her. My roommate shared the story of the paralyzed man in Mark 2. All eyes on her, zoned in, listening intently. The moment felt so holy and brings tears to my eyes now. I looked at these precious children and thought in my mind, "This is it. The Kingdom will come to them, this young generation. They will be the ones to help the older generation understand, these older women, with whom we feel like we can't break through. But these younger ones, their hearts are softer and more open. They will be the ones to carry the good news to their parents one day."
I love to think of the testimonies they will have one day when they know the King. And I feel so honored to know that they will say, "I feel like it all began with these two American girls who loved on us and boldly presented the truth to our families on the beach and in our homes."
As we walked away, we all couldn't stop hugging and kissing cheeks. We could feel how special the time had been on both sides. As we walked away, we looked back. The teenage girl looking for the love of a Father had teary eyes. We held out our arms, and she ran back to us one last time and embraced us crying. The love of our Father, seeping out of us, touching her soul. No doubt about it. She'd never encountered love like she did that day.
|