Due to the sensitive nature of their work and the region where they serve, we can’t share much in the way of details about one particular missionary family that we support but had the privilege to learn more about during Missions Focus. While the husband is away planting churches and doing ministry, the wife often stays behind to care for their home and children. As she shares in her own words, ministry happens there too. Please pray for this missionary family and others like them serving in sensitive regions like Central Asia.
I prayed for her for weeks.
The day I met her, she took my daughter, Ruth, from my arms and carried her the rest of the way to my house. It was a long, dusty walk. I did my best to carry a conversation with her in my new language. She was patient. She smiled. I hired her that day.
And then I called my husband, Josh and told him I had just met my new best friend. He laughed.
She started by coming to my house 2 days a week – allowing me “more time to study.” Whether she would help with cleaning, laundry, cooking or child care was yet to be determined. I had planned to use the time she was there to study behind closed doors, but when she started working in my home I felt compelled to be with her all the time. Cleaning beside her, cooking with her, folding laundry together and talking about our lives.
After being in my home only a handful of days she asked softly, “Do you know Him?”
I hesitated, wanting to be careful that I wasn’t misunderstanding because of our language barrier. I wasn’t. She knows Him too. But she explained the horrific scene that unfolds if she studies about Him or talks about Him at home.
After lunch one afternoon I asked if she wanted to study the Word together in her language. Not having a plan of where we would begin, she took my copy of the Book and turned to Mark’s story of Jesus. Slowly she read out loud the story of the greatest sacrifice in the history of the world.
It wasn’t where I had thought to start, but it was as if she couldn’t wait to read again about what He had done for her. The sacrifice that He made for her. A Love so real. That Love – something she doesn’t find outside of knowing Him.
She comes to my house 4 days a week now. We study in my home together. We pray together. And she asks me to pray in her language so she can understand me. She is a gift to me, and I am to her.
Often I hear her thanking Him for a sister that she has found in me. I’m grateful for our deep friendship.
A neighbor lady stopped over the other day.
She tells me almost every time she comes that there is no other table that she enjoys sitting at more than mine. And let me just say this – every time she has come, my table has had nothing on it.
Actually, one time, she even asked me if I owned a teapot. Oops! We chatted a bit that afternoon and then she said she had work to do at home. As I was walking her out to the gate, she said she was going home to do some baking, but wasn’t sure what to bake.
I told her I had some ideas. So, she brought ingredients over and I taught her how to make chocolate cake. She tried a bite of the cake and said it tasted like something you could only buy at a restaurant. She loved it.
Then she asked if I knew how to bake bread. I answered in the affirmative. With that she cupped her hands together and said, “Your husband needs to carry you around like this.”
I didn’t tell her that he already does. That he lifts me up, that he carries me, that he knows the days that my heart is more fragile, that he values my efforts in the home and that he loves me in a cupped hands kind of way.
I couldn’t tell her, because she has never seen a cupped hands kind of love. I am asking the Lord now to give me the courage to tell her to cup her own hands. To hold them out and up, and to experience what happens when her cupped hands get filled.
You can read more from others serving in the same region at http://silkroad.livedead.org/