Good Friday ice cream and Sunday Morning Revelation.

It was actually Good Friday. We were out with the family eating ice cream at one of the very few places to eat in the city that night. There I was happily enjoying my passion fruit ice cream cone,  when my joy was interrupted by a woman who was begging in the streets. This is not uncommon. I have had it happen on too many occasions; the fun of a family outing, interrupted by the reality of poverty in our city. 

She looked at me with pleading eyes and the desperation of a mother who needs to feed her hungry children. I have seen those pleading eyes too many times to count, in places all over this city and all over the country. Those are the eyes that haunt me, that remind me of my inadequacy to meet the needs in this country that God has called me to serve. Still, looking into the desperation of this mother’s need, I remember that none of this is about me. Nor is it about the mother. Good Friday is always about HIM. 

She asked me for money, and I tell her that I usually never give out money in the streets.  I told her that I would normally go to a supermarket and buy something for her, but everything was closed. I told her that we would pray, and I would ask the Holy Spirit for guidance about what to do. Then, I asked her about her spiritual condition and she expresses that she desperately needs God. She asked me about my church and she told me that she would go the very next Sunday. I explained to her that since I was a missionary that traveled all over the country, I may not always be at the church but that she should tell the Pastor that I sent her there. We prayed together. She cried on my shoulder. 

Then I had to make a decision. Should I give her cash? What would she do with it? Who was she? Was she telling me the truth, or was it a scam? These are questions that I am faced with in my everyday interactions with beggars that stand outside of the supermarket, at the traffic light, or the street corners of this city. 

That is why I am so grateful for the supernatural gifts of the Holy Spirit. There standing and praying with this desperate mother; I asked the Lord for the spiritual gift of discernment. As we prayed, I sensed that Jesus should not be misrepresented. If I were going to speak to her about Jesus, I must represent Him well, and I could not imagine that Jesus would have sent her away empty handed. So I put the equivalent of ten dollars into the palm of her hand, and I instructed her to look for a corner store near her home and buy her babies something to eat. She was immensely grateful, and once again, she assured me that she would visit my church. 

I never expected that I would see this woman again. The story of this encounter could be told many times over, as I have had so many similar experiences in the 19 years of our missionary life here in Santo Domingo. I am sure that I have given money to drug addicts and drunks that ran to the nearest dealer for more of their vice. There have been children that have taken the pesos from my hand and given them to some horrible parent that enslaves their own children. These are the realities of poverty in the developing world, and in the midst of it all, I have learned to seek the Spirit’s guidance, as I remember Jesus’s words,  “In as much as you have done it unto the least of these...” 

Last Sunday I was back at my home church after three months of traveling during the summer with other ministry commitments.  We were among the last to leave the building as we greeted our church family that we had missed so much. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that there was a woman who was waiting to get my attention. Finally, I turned my attention toward her. She asked me if I remembered her. I did not. In fact, I had no idea who she was. She reminded me that she was the woman that came to me at the ice cream shop that Good Friday. 

I looked at her in astonishment.  She was dressed in her Sunday best, she had a Bible in her her arms and a big smile on her face. The joy that infused her whole expression was so different from the desperation that I saw on the evening of Good Friday. She told me that she did exactly as I told her and that she has been faithfully attending the church ever since that night. Then she introduced me to her husband and her children. She explained that they were in the discipleship class and that they were all going to be baptized soon! I was overjoyed to say the least. I cannot even begin to explain my great joy at seeing that whole family, bibles under their arms, standing in the foyer of my church. 

So often, we do not see the result of a simple act of obedience. We just have to trust that one day in heaven there will be a ton of redeemed beggars from Santo Domingo. But on this particular Sunday morning, I was privileged to see the end result of that Good Friday encounter!  It turns out to still be true that the best part about Good Friday is when we experience the outcome on Sunday morning. 

“It’s Friday. The world’s winning. People are sinning. And evil’s grinning.   

It’s Friday. The soldiers nail my Savior’s hands To the cross. They nail my Savior’s feet
to the cross.  And then they raise him up next to criminals.  

But It’s only Friday.  Let me tell you something-- Sunday’s comin’.” S. M. Lockridge

How Chocolate Spreads the Gospel

It was a Saturday afternoon and we were leaving the city and driving one hour north to CIMA del Rey, our ministry center. As we were passing through the city, I told the boys, (with my “tongue-in-cheek”) “Boys, I’m not sure, but I think the Holy Spirit may be leading us to stop and get some chocolate.”

To which Nicolas quickly responded, “Mom, I am feeling it in my spirit, too!” 

I decided to stop at the grocery store. I parked, and as soon as I got out of the car, I was met by three “limpiabotas”, or shoeshine boys, asking to shine our shoes. Well, Marcus’ shoes looked horrible, and mine weren’t so great either. So, on a whim, I decided to let these guys shine our shoes. 

As the boys shined our shoes, I asked them their names. They told me their names were Alexander, Daniel & Tato. I asked Daniel, as he scrubbed Marcus’ grubby shoe, “Daniel did you know that you have the same name as a very famous Bible character?” 

 “Yes,” said Daniel. 

“Do you know the Bible story about Daniel?” I inquired. 

“Yes,” he replied. “He died on the cross for our sins.” 

This made me smile, as I explained that it was Jesus, not Daniel, who died on the cross.  “Actually, I’m talking about another guy in the Bible who was spent a night with lions. His name was named Daniel just like you. Do you guys want to hear about this Daniel?” 

They were all VERY interested, so I told them about “Daniel and the Lion’s Den.” They took their time shining shoes as I told the story, and when we were finished, they told me that they would be watching my car as I shopped. 

As we entered the supermarket, Nicolas said, “Mom, the Holy Spirit really did lead us to get some chocolate!” So we bought chocolate for ourselves and for the shoeshine boys.

The boys were waiting next to my car when we entered the parking lot, just as they promised. As I gave them the chocolate that we bought for them, I reminded them that although they may never end up in a lion’s den like Daniel, there may be many situations in their lives that will cause them to be fearful. I encouraged them to remember to pray like Daniel did, and ask God to take care of them. Then, I asked them if they were Christians. 

Daniel told me, “I’m waiting until I’m eleven to be a Christian.” 

Tato said, “We have to stop lying before we can be Christians.” 

Alexander added, “Sometimes we go to church.” 

I told the guys, “I have good news! You don’t have to wait until you are eleven, you don’t have to stop lying, or go to church before you can become a Christian. You can become a Christian today!” In that moment, I was able to lead those three shoeshine boys to Jesus.

Some people may believe this chocolate mission is a “sweet” but insignificant story. After all, these were just uneducated little boys shining shoes in a parking lot. In fact, the parking lot limpiabotas are often ignored, they beg for attention, and are considered an annoyance to the shoppers.  Yet we know that I know that this encounter was an important moment with eternal implications. The spiritual seed that was planted in their hearts is NOT insignificant.

As we said good-bye to our new friends they begged me to come by and see them every Saturday and Sunday at the supermarket parking lot.  For me, this is a great reason to stop and get some chocolate! And I’m pretty sure that Nicolas, Marcus and the Holy Spirit will agree! 

Thank you so much for your gifts and prayers that make it possible for us to reach children like Tato, Alexander and Daniel in Dominican Republic!

Blogging about yesterday, and dreaming about tomorrow

As long as I live, I won’t forget those smiles. Beaming as big as the Caribbean sky! Mother and daughter, with twin colossal smiles that proclaimed throughout the whole village “Cristo Sana!!!” Jesus heals!!!!

As long as I live, I won’t forget that little girl voice. Big curls were bouncing as the once crippled little girl RAN and SKIPPED across the platform, shouting in a voice that still contained all the innocence of childhood, “Gloria Dios, Gracias a Dios!!” “Praise God, Thank you God”

As long as I live, I won’t forget the praise. Little brown arms that stretched up to the sky, she was singing with her face looking directly into the heavens. There were microphones for singers and preachers, but the loudest praise came from the lame child that was healed.

For a missionary who has held the crippled, looked into the face of a mother begging for money to buy her child medicine, and watched the villagers follow a petite pink casket, I know what this means. I know about the scraping and the saving and the begging of that mother, doing what needs to be done to fix her crippled baby.

Sometimes we wonder, why are these spectacular miracles so much more common outside of the United States? Maybe this is a question that doesn’t have an answer. Except I have seen too many children suffer, and even die for sicknesses that could be resolved with medicine or a visit to the doctor. Here in the developing world, it’s just not that simple. So I wonder if the desperate need produces a faith that seems much more probable and reliable than medicine or doctors.

Therefore, I know what this miracle meant for this family yesterday. I will never forget the joy of that moment. I wanted to hold it, save it, linger in it, because it was so amazing. Today, my words serve as a meager description of this beautiful moment.

Still, these are the memories of yesterday, but what about tomorrow? Today, I am pondering tomorrow. I have a vision of what this miracle means for tomorrow. How does the future look for this child who had an encounter with the POWER OF GOD? I believe that this is one little girl that will not be vulnerable to the prostitution that smothers her village. Perhaps it means that the threat of poverty is diminished because the family’s resources are not consumed by doctors and medicine. And I know that this little girl has a story to tell the whole world. Others will know Jesus because of last night’s miracle! At the age of eight, she has her whole lifetime to tell the story! What tremendous possibilities await, as the unforgettable, supernatural POWER OF GOD becomes the transformational catalyst for the future.