MWP Wednesday Report: September 15, 2010 - www.makewaypartners.org
Going to the most vulnerable & least protected to end human trafficking - through prevention. Dear Fellow Missioners,
Once, asleep in my hotel in Romania, I was awakened by a hotel-security guard rapping at my door. He told me I was needed at the hospital. I threw on my dirty clothes from the day before, and hopped into a rusty bucket of bolts with the guard who I wasn’t too sure hadn’t just left the hotel’s bar.
At the hospital, a nurse rushed me to a semi-lit, foul-smelling room. I spent the rest of the night holding a beautiful, curly headed little four-year-old girl. Her disarrayed curls were about the only recognizable characteristic of a four-year-old princess of the King. From men who never should have been allowed to touch a precious hair on her priceless head, she had been bought and sold many times over. With tubes running in and out of her frail frame she reclined in my arms, splayed open body and soul.
I was glad to be there as a witness for her story. But by dawn, I was pretty doubtful that I’d ever be able to write about her, much less talk about her.
I began scouring the scriptures---and crying out to God---for what more I could do. It seemed impossible to ever rest because there was so much work to be done in this never ending battle, in the very pit of Hell. Early one morning as I sat alone in the dark crying about my little-four-year-old princess, I was also half reading the book of John. When I came to 12:1-3 it punched me in the gut.
We often hear sermons on this passage, but they always seem to focus on the contrast between Martha and Mary. Martha’s serving away. Mary’s worshiping away. Where’s Lazarus?
Reclining with Jesus.
The only one of the siblings that Jesus had raised from the dead was the only one resting in the arms of his rescuer—everyone else felt they had to work really hard at something.
The picture the passage conjured in my head made me wonder, “Why do I have such a hard time reclining with Jesus?”
In a heartbeat I knew. I haven’t been raised from the dead. You have to first die, before you can be raised from the dead. And dying is never fun. It certainly doesn’t come naturally; personally, I run from it every chance I get.
Yet, it is what Jesus asks us to do…die. Die to self. Die to all our schemes, dreams, and five-year plans. Even all our desires to do good and stamp out evil.
So then I asked myself, “Do I really believe in the resurrection?”
I found I do—some. Meaning I know it in my head, but I keep trying to do so much myself and usually forget it is all His work, His doing, and His plan of restoration. I tend to get so busy about “the work” ; I try to drag God around from country to country, hospital to hospital, or brothel to brothel begging Him to bless what I AM DOING!
If I really believe in the resurrection, maybe I can allow a little more death---beginning with my own---as I move through my days, and eventually maybe even enjoy a little reclining with Jesus.
I’d like to say my little-four-year-old princess made a full recovery. But, we all know even modern medicine only goes so far in this fallen-broken world. What I do know is God’s work is about protecting these precious ones, and I desperately want to be His vessel for them. And I also know I need your continuing giving, going, telling, and praying to do it.
"Lord I believe; help me in my unbelief.”
Love, your sister along the journey,
k
Kimberly Smith
President
Make Way Partners
PO BOX 26367
Birmingham, AL 35260
205-240-8597
http://www.makewaypartners.org/
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