Ascribe to the LORD, O families of the peoples. ascribe to the LORD glory and strength. Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name; bring an offering ad come into his courts. Worship the LORD in holy speldor; tremble before him, all the earth. (Ps. 96:7-9)
We stepped into Jaqueline's home, and I noticed the clutter. Hardly 5 of us fit inside. She seemed hesitant, reserved. We were there to pray with her - her husband had passed away a few years ago, and she was trying to raise her son on her own, without a job. She said she was Catholic, that she went to church, and that she needed prayer. We prayed with her, and left.
Later that day we came back, and she was sitting on her porch. We had come back to invite her to a Bible study for women that we were going to do the next day. She was excited - so excited that she asked B. to take a picture of her, so that we would remember to pray for her. Filled with hope and excitement at her enthusiasm, we did.
But then she didn't show up for the Bible study. I ran back from the church we were meeting in to her home, which was right across the street. I found her, and told her as best I could without a translator that we were going to start, and asked her again to join us. She nodded, and held up her finger to indicate that she'd be over in just one moment.
She never showed up.
So B., our translator and I, upon finishing the training, march ourselves right on over to her doorstep, and find her there, just hanging out with her friends.
We missed you at the Bible study, I say.
Yea, I had things to do, she replies.
Right. Lots of things. Like hanging out with your friends.
Do you know why B. and I are here? I ask.
I go on to explain the Gospel to her - that humans are sinful, and we deserve God's punishment because of that. But that God graciously took it upon himself to make a different way. That Jesus took the wrath of God and was died and buried and then rose again that we might live in His righteousness, to His glory, with Him, forever. We do not have to be captive to sin any longer.
She says, I'll believe you when you bring me something. She insists she's heard this story, that she's a Christian because she goes to church. I want to cry. I want to show her that's not true.
I try to reason with her, to explain that God's character is good, that He loves her and wants a relationship with her, and Jesus is the only way. But it goes nowhere. Pray for rain, she says. We need rain.
So we say we will. And we leave.
And on the way back, I do my due diligence.
So God, that woman said they need rain. And I said I'd pray, so I guess maybe you could bring some rain, if that's cool? mmkay, thanks.
That was my prayer. Unexpectant. Unloving.
We go back to the house, change clothes, and head to the beach to bathe for the first time in 5 days (Yes, I know how gross that is. You don't have to remind me. I washed my hair 3 (yes, three) times in the ocean that day.). Walking to the beach, I look up. Along the horizon are storm clouds - a storm strong enough to bring the rain cloud down with it when it comes, like a bedsheet or something. The kind where the sky looks all dark purple-y and blue, even though its only 4pm, and you can't tell the sky from the land.
Hey, that looks like some serious rain over there, I remark.
I don't make the connection.
Graciously, God allowed us just enough time to bathe before the lightning started. Then we high-tailed it home.
Not 30 seconds after we walk in the door of the home that God graciously provided for us (another story, coming later), the deluge starts. Caked with salty-ocean goodness, but feeling cleaner than I've ever felt, I think, gosh, that's some serious rain! I'm glad we got out when we did...
Wait, rain! Rain!! Jaqueline... and she said... and then I prayed... but I didn't really mean it! Well, I guess that doesn't matter now... apparently God decided to bring rain whether I meant it or not. God is good like that.
We come to find out only moments later that this storm is the first time that it has rained a single drop in over 6 months. The wells are dry. The dust has blown over everything. The village needs water.
God is abundantly good.
We have to go find that woman! I think. B. voices those exact thoughts moments later. But it's now dark, windy, muddy, and still raining. It's actually chilly. Tomorrow, we agree. Tomorrow before we leave.
After breakfast, we venture out. We're still not sure the truck is going to make it all the way down the dirt road (now mud road) to pick us up, but we haven't gotten a phone call yet. I take Johnson (a translator), and B. and I go to her house. The door is locked. There is nobody home.
Seriously, God?! After all that, now you won't let us talk to her?? I rant.
We go back, dejected. The truck is here. Time is limited. But I must see her, I must speak to her, to ask if she believes, to see her face!
Noah and I venture out again, right before the truck leaves. Her door is still locked. We stand there, almost willing her to just walk around the corner. But she doesn't. We begin the walk home, and I pray desperately that she would not be unmoved by this.
Mid-prayer and me almost in tears, she walks around the corner. I'm so taken aback it leaves me speechless. Luckily Noah jumps in.
Hi! It's good to see you again. Did you notice it rained last night? We ask.
Oh, yea. She blows off the question as if we asked her if the sky was blue.
You look nice, Noah offers. Are you going to the city?
She gives a half smirk, and replies that she's going to Cap-Haitien today. All dressed up in her heels and her skinny jeans and her leopard-print top, hair freshly done.
Do you think differently about God? Noah probes.
She avoids the question by reminding us to pray for her.
There is nothing more to be said. She is unmoved.
I want to shake her, to sit on her porch and be equally unmoving and ask her, so Jaqueline, do you think differently about God today? Do you believe in Jesus today? until she says yes, yes today I understand. Today I believe.
I cry out to God, wondering how this woman could not believe amidst such mighty works. Lamenting her unbelief, her hardened heart, and the state of her soul without the presence of God.
But then God whispers, remember, you were her, too. You were the one who refused to see, refused to hear. You were stubborn. Amidst my greatness, my mercy, my redemption. You were hardened, too. For 8 years. You refused to believe. And yet I still claimed you as my own.
Trust me.
Trust that I will claim my people - I will have them, no matter what. I will have my people for myself.
Trust me.
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him and his righteousness to children's children to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments. The LORD has established his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom rules over all! (Ps. 103:17-19)
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