Walking Thoughts

I have to tell you an amazing story that happened yesterday.
 I was in an “heladeria”  (Ay-la-da-ri-a=ice cream shop) with Kait.  We were enjoying the delightfulness of the air conditioning after school, on what has been one of the hottest days since I’ve been here.  A little boy walked into the shop.  I recognized on him the familiar dirty clothes and unkempt look of a street child.  Many of the city’s poor carry a familiar little box on their backs, shining shoes to earn money.  He didn’t have a box, but he carried a bag with shoes in it.  The worn and dirty flip flops on his feet, suggested that the ones he carried might be his “good” ones, reserved for use at another time.  What caught my attention the most was that his left arm was amputated from the elbow down.  I remember watching him intently, wondering that a boy such as this could afford this treat—2mil GS (which is about .40 US), and waiting to see how he would enjoy what he got.  I watched as the cashier and he exchanged words and she handed him, a small plastic cup full of water.  He drank it, thirstily, handed the cup back to her and turned to go.  Before I knew it, I had asked Kait for one mil and gotten one out of my own, and intercepted him on my way to the cashier.  I asked him if he liked ice cream, to which he replied “si”.  I handed the cashier the money and said, “ Give him whatever he wants.”  She smiled at me, in a way that I hope I’ll always remember, and I left them and went back to my table with Kait, while they went about the business of creating an ice cream cone.  I remember thinking that he may be so intent on his treat that a thank-you would be forgotten and I knew that had no importance at all.  On his way out, he looked at me.  “Gracias,” he said.
It has occurred to me these past few days that when some one says that, they are saying literally “graces”—more than one grace. 
As he left the building, I told Kait how that picture we had just seen,  reminded me so much of the “graces” that God has extended to me.  The times where I went in to a situation, expecting a glass of water, and came out with ice cream.  Like dealing with an unfaithful husband and arriving at the doctors office, knowing that AIDs and other testing would be done, praying for the strength to get through a bad situation, as all doctor visits can be.  I expected the usual, unfeeling clinical experience.  Nurses, just “doing their job” with yet another statistic, in front of them, that wasn’t a real person.  But what God provided was an unusually caring, competent nurse for drawing my blood, who made me feel comfortable with her sweet smile and manner, and a nurse practicioner, who had the unfortunate job of asking the questions about what brought me there, and handling the response.  She let me cry, and asked gently if I had a support system, there—did I have a pastor and a church?  I was moved by her concern and felt God’s loving arms envelop me in the difficulty of that moment.  On my way back to the parking lot, the first words I saw were on a bumper sticker  of a car that said “Jesus loves You.”  The truth of that and His own promises to never leave me or forsake me, in all circumstances of life, hit me hard, and I find it amazing that even, now, I remember that day with startling clarity.

The reason why it was so significant, now, on a chair in a ice cream shop 4500ish miles away from home, was that I was struggling to remember what I was doing here.  Wanting to feel like I was sharing God’s grace with someone—not engaged in setting up and dealing with apartment life, and language learning and fledgling friendships with nationals,  never even breaching the topic of God’s amazing truths, because the topic might be too much for the vocabulary I have.  I was talking about the suffering of missionaries all over the world and the ones who are ministering to the fatherless and the broken hearted and the impoverished.  I said that I felt like sometimes, I didn’t even know that anyone really wanted us to be here, so much as tolerated the fact that we were here. 
And for me personally….. I was sure that I had been called here, but I wasn’t sure why, existing in a nebulous, limbo state, until my ministry could be defined, and explained and “worked at” in a way I could see, and measure and talk about with some type of intelligence.  Since I have been here, it has been difficult to be patient and wait on the Lord’s revealing—one excruciating piece at a time, with nothing to say but “I don’t know yet” to those who would enquire.
I left the topic with a simple statement of general discouragement. Not the “I want to go home” kind, so much as the “what am I supposed to be doing?” kind.  And what gifts am I supposed to be using, and while we’re talking about it, Lord, what are they, again?- kind.
We put the topic on the shelf, as Kait expressed a need to get some green thread (“hilo”- said EE-LO) for her Nanduti project.  We agreed that we would go to the “hilo man’s” store.  Many stores here are the cell phone, hairdryer, alarmclock and wash tub, and oh, yeah- on- the- way- out- there- is hilo stores.  But this man only sells hilo.  We had just been to see him 2 days before, and we pass by his store quite often.
While Kait perused, I started to talk to this man.  He wanted to know where we were from, so I told him. I told him that we were missionaries.  Then knowing that there were lots of “missionaries” here, he asked what we were here to do.  I thought that was an interesting question, given what we had just talked about.  I told him that right now we were working with little kids at the church school, but we were here to tell people the truth about Jesus Christ and what a difference he had made in my life, since I had been Catholic as a child.  He wanted to know about that. He produced his own well worn Bible, given by another missionary, he said..  I asked if he was a “believer”—to which he replied that he was Catholic, but not in that quasi- belligerent way that Catholics might express (and the way I myself have personally expressed) the “of course, big dummy,  all Catholics are Christians sentiment. “Tell me what changed…” We talked about the dissatisfaction I had with thinking I had to earn my way to heaven and how liberating it was to me to read the Bible and find out that Jesus already paid the way.  He said that of course it was how we lived that mattered.  But I said  no, it really isn’t about what we do, at all. It was about what He did, only. Nothing else. Many Catholics live life wondering if they might make it into heaven.  We talked on  in ways that I could not possibly re-create—in words that I know I could not have known.  I then produced a pamphlet about the security of salvation, which I had only just put in my purse THAT MORNING!  I might add that I never have done that since I’ve been here, and had just been in Bob’s office, thinking these might be good to have, but for no one in particular.
The man introduced himself as Phillipe.  And he invited us to come and talk to him anytime we wanted.  “You don’t have to buy anything,” he said, “just talk.”  I told him that if he wanted me to, I could bring other small books and he said that he would like that.
When I left, I was elated.  God seemed to say that EVERYthing is in His timing, In His control.  This ministry is His, not mine.  He has not forgotten me, and He is using this time.  At any minute He can make anything He wants happen.  Even if that means giving you the ability to speak a language that is not your own!  The truth was my own.  And that’s what it was that I am supposed to share.  My little tiny personal testimony about how Jesus Christ changed my life, the day I met Him, and every day since.

-- Gina Paone, missionary in Paraguay

Scripture constantly tells us to rejoice in the Lord, what He has done and is doing in our lives.  In order to do that we must remember and share, tell and encourage.  

Please use this space to share His testimony in your life.  You can give your salvation testimony (it is the story that makes angels rejoice!), or an instance where God performed a miracle in your life.  Even something so small but so perfectly calculated by His grace that it was obviously from Him, or something He did that was so amazingly grand that there was no explanation except divine intervention.  Tell of His grace; if there was an instance that the Holy Spirit convicted you and led you in righteousness.  Boast in the sweet goodness of the Lord and what He has given you, or just to proclaim a praise of thanksgiving for what He has given.   Share, encourage, rejoice, and boast in the Lord here! Encourage and be encouraged as we rejoice together!

My soul makes its boast in the LORD
Psalm 34:2 

Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the LORD rejoice!
1 Chronicles 16:10

Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let them say among the nations, "The LORD reigns!"
1 Chronicles 16:31

Be glad in the LORD, and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart!
Psalm 32:11

Then my soul will rejoice in the LORD, exulting in his salvation.
Psalm 35:9

But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you;may those who love your salvation say continually, "Great is the LORD!"
Psalm 40:16

Rejoice in the LORD, O you righteous, and give thanks to his holy name!
Psalm 97:12

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.
Philippians 4:4

More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.
Romans 5:11

Thus says the LORD: "Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the LORD who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the LORD."
Jeremiah 9:23-24