Called By Name - God's Direction part V

The following Saturday (in sequence from my previous blog) all of us missionaries were at a soccer game to cheer on our Shalom Home team. Normally, it’s Bobby’s responsibility to drive to and from Oasis on Tues, Thurs, and Sat. But today it just made more sense for me to do it. So I left the game, returned to the Home, and loaded up the food, chairs, and kids into the red pick-up truck. Glenys, a 2 wk visitor from Australia, also joined us. Per usual, I drove down the dusty dirt road, honking my horn to signal that it’s time for our service. Once we arrived, unloaded the food, chairs, etc into the concrete block building, then most of went to walk our traditional path around the neighborhood to personally knock on doors and invite people to come to our service. I had not attended an Oasis service since before Christmas. Anyhow, at the end of Stinky Stream Lane (or at least that’s what this foot path ought to be called), 10 yr old Alex extended an invitation to a mom for her and her kids to come to our service. She seemingly declined, but as we turned and started to head back up the foot trail, the mom called out in Spanish “Sister Debra!” Would you actually believe I turned around and symbolically motioned, Who? Me? (like there’s anyone else in our small group named Debra!) I was so surprised that she even knew my name!!! Over and over for the next day or two I replayed the fact that she called me by name. There’s something very special about calling a person by name. Anyhow, before I digress more…. She asked if I would take her young son, about 4 years old, with me to church. I asked if she’d be coming later herself and she said yes. Wow, she trusted me to walk off with her young son! I asked his name and as best as I could understand, I think the first of his 5 part name was Franklin. So it was that I walked back down Stinky Stream Lane and around the rest of our traditional path, hand in hand with a dirty, scrawny, rumpled Franklin. And I don’t think I could’ve been happier. My story for the day could’ve ended here and I’d have been perfectly content….but there’s more.

Our Oasis service started with prayer and a lot of kid songs followed by a Bible story read by one of our staff and then a closing prayer and a blessing over the food- all per the usual. Then I helped dish out food for everyone as they waited patiently in line. When Franklin’s mom got to the front of the line, she asked me if I’d come pray with her and her son. Once again, I internally thought, Who? Me? Now? I suggested that she and her son eat their food while it was still a bit warm and when I’d finish dishing out food, I’d go pray with her. Truth is, my head was spinning and I was buying some time to think about this tremendous opportunity. I’ve never been personally asked to pray with/for a Salvadoran. I felt so humbled and blessed to have the opportunity! To be honest, I could hardly think straight. When the food was all given out I glanced over the room to find her, and didn’t need to look far since she was keeping an eye on me and flagging me down. I grabbed Glenys and asked if she’d like to join us. Franklin’s mom explained, as best as I could understand, that Franklin had been ill this past week, and is better now, but she was asking for me to pray for Franklin and her family. I told her I’d prefer to pray in English, and asked that she would simultaneously pray to God in Spanish. I assured her that God would hear and understand us both. So I sat Franklin up on a small wooden table to bring him up to our height- put an arm around him, as did his mom, and we prayed. Everyone once in awhile I’d pray a bit in Spanish just so mom would have some idea of who or what I was praying about at the moment. The prayer wasn’t long by Salvadoran standards, but for me it was simple, sincere, and amazing. When I said Amen, I looked up and found that her head was on Glenys' shoulder, tears on her cheeks. Then she came toward me and we hugged for a long moment and she continued to cry. I felt strongly led to ask her if she was a Christian….did she know Jesus Christ as her Savior…and did she have a relationship with Him? She said yes, and my spirit knew it was true. She said the same about Franklin and the rest of her family. I rarely ask such bold personal questions, and maybe I should do so more often, but this time I knew in my spirit that I had to ask. Franklin’s mom then asked me to come visit her and her family in her home. She said she wanted to talk and ask questions. She wanted me to see her “economic status”, and she wanted me to check on Franklin’s health and look into other health concerns. (Ah, remember the sudden thoughts about Oasis health screening two blogs ago?) I made it very clear to her that I would not be bringing money nor did I have money to loan or give to her. Additionally I told her that I was a volunteer, and received no money for the work I do; and actually pay money to stay and do what I do. She said she understood but still strongly urged me to come. I told her I had to gain permission from Don Benner, but I thought he would approve and I’d be allowed to come visit.

My head reeled as I drove back to the Home and as I sat at my kitchen table, trying to take it all in. I realized that the Lord was putting together the pieces before my eyes. Months ago my heart started a special beat for the poor of Oasis. Now, within one week, the Lord has given me “new eyes” for the Strawn Boys and a vision for health care in Oasis (that originated as a sudden late evening thought a week ago) through a lady who called me by name, entrusted to son to me, and courageously prayed to God with me. And I’m suddenly no longer feeling like a purposeless, passion less, person who lost their way. I’m a child of God Almighty that’s being shown, step by step, His direction. WOW!