Missionary Mommy

There she was.  As he walked up the road on his way home for the evening she was preparing to start her laundry.  She removed her shirt and placed it in the water that was a mere trickle in the ditch.  She didn’t notice all the movement around her. She didn’t notice the man slowing down as something began tugging at his heart. She had work to do and she was determined to do it.  The water, if it could be called that, was laced with urine from the Tico men that believe the world to be their personal urinal.  It was stagnant.  It smelled.  It didn’t phase her.  She knew that whatever the end result was, it was bound to be better than the way her clothing smelled prior to the wash.  The man, still watching in disbelief, had been praying for God to put someone in his path.  Someone that he could love on in a major way.  Someone that made him uncomfortable.  He approached her.  He spoke with her.  He offered her a place to wash and eat.  She kindly declined and continued washing the few items of clothing she owned.

He rushed the rest of the way up the mountain to his home and into the kitchen where his wife was preparing dinner.  After a quick kiss, he told her the story and that he wanted that night’s dinner to be for this women. Quickly, things were gathered and the man, his wife and their small child headed back down the mountain in hopes that this woman would still be there.

As they begin approaching the spot where he had last spoken with her they saw something beyond description.  This woman, Lorana she would tell them, was bent over washing her hair and face in the filthy, grimy ditch water.  Quickly they approached her and offered up their dinner, which she graciously received.  Again, they offered to take her to their home where she could shower if she wanted.  She very kindly rejected the offer.  They offered again, begging almost for her to accept.  She was not interested. She was however open to talk.  Conversation ensued.  A few tears fell and then life continued on.  For the woman and for the family, life continued.  Was it a little different after the encounter?  Surely.

“Loranas” are everywhere.  In San Jose, Costa Rica, New York City and even Wichita, Kansas (my personal favorite).  They might look a little different or smell a little better, but they need the unconditional love of our Jesus, nevertheless.  Open your eyes. Who are you walking past that might be silently crying out for help?  For love?  For Jesus?

“Who will be Jesus to them?  Who’ll show the love, that restores them again?  They do not need a judge, they need a friend.  Who will be Jesus to them?”

***On a side note****

We still ate dinner last night, just a little less.  Our hearts were full enough to make up for the lack of food.  It’s funny how we were the ones that were truly blessed.  Thank you, Jesus, for your unconditional love.  Please keep my eyes wide open to the people you will place in my path.

“Your love is amazing, steady and unchanging…”