We saw an old man limping along with a cane and Alex stopped the car to chat with him. He had weathered, brown skin and white hair flapping in the breeze. He seemed eager to talk and we listened and smiled while Alex chatted to him in Belarusian. They talked and talked and the next thing I knew the car door was opening and the man was getting into the seat next to mine. I felt a small hesitation in my spirit. I saw the big bottle of alcohol he was holding and I momentarily felt fear until Alex said to me, "Kim, he has lost a son." I looked into his beautiful, blue eyes and felt such compassion. I said, "Alex, will you ask him if we can pray for him?" It took awhile for him to stop talking so she could ask him and he immediately said, "Yes."
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| This is where we picked up the old man |
He looked me in the eyes and I began to pray. I prayed with all the hurt and sorrow in my own heart over the loss of my dear son and I prayed that the God of all comfort would be a comfort to his heart. I prayed that he would see Jesus clearly and that he would come to know him as his Savior. I prayed that deep peace would come into his troubled soul. When I finished praying, I looked into his eyes and he had small tears and began to speak, with Alex interpreting, "That was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. Your voice was beautiful. It sounded like fresh water pouring down or birds singing in the morning...." and as he talked tears of gratitude welled in my eyes and I knew that the Maker of heaven and earth had invaded our car and had come in a mysterious, supernatural way that transcended all language.
We drove the man to his home not far away and he got out of the car, clutching the bible we had given him and promising to read it aloud with his wife. It felt like he was family as we warmly shook hands good-bye and promised to try and make a return visit. He was all smiles as he ambled up his walkway and we drove away with joy in our hearts.
On another day while biking through a different village we came upon an older woman sitting on her bench just outside of her house. She was portly with big, swollen legs and she had the cheeriest, warmest smile. The flower garden, just behind her was beautiful and well-groomed. I kept wondering how she did so much work with her stout body and I knew she had to haul water from the village well. Sadly I did not get a picture but her home was similar to this house in the same village:
We began chatting, again through an interpreter and we learned that she too had lost a son! I knew that it was no coincidence. Suddenly, I was meeting people who had lost children. Since, that time, this has continued in my life. I don't recall that this ever happened to me before. Anyway, when she was told that I had lost a young son, she looked startled and she jerked her head to look at me. She looked right into my eyes and both of our eyes filled with tears and we spontaneously embraced one another. I asked if I could pray for her, she shook her head yes and we held hands as I prayed that she would know Jesus and that her soul would find comfort in His love. She crossed herself after my prayer and we hugged once again. She warmly invited us to return the next day and come into her house. How I wanted to! How I longed to see her again but it was not to be.
"Okay, Lord," I thought as I pedaled away on my bike. "So, I know you use everything and now I see that you are using my grief as a link to others. It is like a stepping stone right into their hearts. For this, I can praise you."
Fresh tears pricked my eyes as I thought of my precious son and suddenly, I "saw" his joy and I knew that he was glad that his death could be used as a catalyst to draw others to his Jesus that saved him.
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