Days 6-7

Yesterday was hard. I woke up with a burden I could not shake.

We started, as always, with prayer time together. A little relief came when I confessed the fear out loud.

We taught English. I had the honor of teaching a muslim woman Ed and Ros have befriended (her name escapes me just now). Most of her face is badly burned and reconstructed with skin grafts. And yet, there is a light inside her that shines when she hears "Gang Mahk" (you're good at that). She is doing wonderfully, and last week accepted a New Testament from Ros. Even with that amazing knowledge, and the hope of her life right in front of me, I was distracted.

We took a few hours to "meditate or pray or seek the Lord" Ros said, in preparation for walking the streets that night. It was wonderful - full of truth and connection with another team mate. But I couldn't shake the heaviness.

As we began walking, just Dax and myself, I struggled to help him understand what we were doing. "It's God's work," Ros had said. "What happens is His; what doesn't happen is His. We are just trying to be faithful and obedient to where and to whom the Spirit leads us." But even knowing that . . . I was terrified.

The enemy just seemed to hover over my head with questions I could not fully hear or fight over the chaos and darkness of the streets here. "What are you doing?" "You don't even speak their language." "How will you explain Jesus to them?" "What good can you really do?"

It makes sense that Ed and Ros, Doc and Zina, Jeremy and Lisa could make a difference. They were here day in and day out. "Mama Ros" is known all over the street. They see her coming and their faces change from tired, hopeless or predatory to hopeful, vulnerable and childlike. It's . . . unlike anything I've ever experienced - except perhaps the rapture on a child's face when he or she sees "Mommy" returning.

But what could we do? We met a few people - entered their shops - learned their names. Foundations. Next time we see them, we can reach out further. The heaviness didn't really lift until this morning. Even now, I can't say it is fully gone, but I take that as my continued call to prayer. It is His work.

Today was better. Daxton asked specifically to teach English to Chrisna today. It's fun to see him making connections with our brothers and sisters here. We walked the streets and met more future friends - doing all we can to show love and grace.

Pray for your missionaries - here and in other parts of the world. Even when you have a small network, it can be such a roller coaster of joy and grief as people come to faith, but wickedness continues to claim hearts and hopes. And even still, He is One. And the work is His.   Psalm 115:1