Monday, July 6, 2015

Love, Compassion and a heart like Jesus...

  So for the past few days I have been trying to write my newsletter for all the people who support me and our ministry here in Saraguro.  I think it's important to keep people informed and in the loop on things.  I for one know that I am not alone in this ministry and every person who has ever prayed or sent in a dollar to help, is a part of what God's doing here...and I never want to take that for granted.  Yet sometimes it's hard to put into words what God is or has done.  I can sit in front of the computer for hours typing and re-typing exactly what I think I want to say, and yet none of it feels right....at least not for a newsletter.  So for now I'm coming on here.  Maybe if I can start the ball rolling by sharing my thoughts and feeling on this blog, that will carry over to my newsletter....if not, at least I've kept some people informed, right?!?
  So... I shared in my last post how while at the Medical Brigade I worked as a translator in the prayer room and how it was so far out of my comfort zone that I felt like I was walking on water in the middle of the ocean.  For the past few days though, I've been thinking how crazy it really is that God even allowed me to be in there in the first place, yet alone that He used me in there! The truth of the matter is, I'm not the most fluent Spanish speaker and I have no formal training in praying for people.  Yes, I asked to be in the prayer room, but honestly I can't help but wonder why God allowed it, knowing my lack of "skill" and all.  But, I think God has started to revealed to me the answer to that why...
  On the second day of the Medical Brigade we had a young girl and her mom come to us asking for prayer.  They had come to get the girl checked out by the doctors because she had been having headaches  and upon meeting with the doctor it was discovered the girl had a tumor (you could actually feel it).  They were in shock and visibly upset, and for a moment I thought, "This is too big...maybe I should wait and send them to someone else....someone who can lay hands on them and through whom, the power of God could remove this thing...what can I do but love them". Yet....when I looked in that sweet mothers eyes and listened to her pour out her heart to me, I couldn't turn them away.  So right there, before God in heaven, I got on my hands and knees and I cried out to God on their behalf...and I mean cried!  I sobbed along with that mother and her daughter.  I felt their pain and fear as if it was my own, and I stained the wood floor with my tears.  I literally carried them on my knees to Jesus in prayer in a way that I never had before.  And while I don't know if I will ever find out what happens to this family, I know that that day, through me, they met Jesus....they encountered the love of the Father.
  And I think that's exactly why God allowed me in that room....not because I have the skills, but because I have the heart.  I've always been a super sensitive person, it's actually one of the biggest struggles I have with myself, but that day and the days after and before, God used that quality of mine...that God given quality...to touch His children and show them that He not only sees them, but He cares DEEPLY for them.  I can't take credit for anything that happened in that prayer room over those 5 days, but I can say that I was so blessed that God would choose to allow me to be there and to literally be His hands and feet, reaching out to touch His children, showing them His heart of love and compassion.  I think sometimes we long for the big stories, like physical healing or some sort of deliverance.  But I am not sure if there is a bigger story than LOVE....for God is LOVE...and we are His!

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