The Prodigal

After Maddie left, we didn’t have to wait long for our next long-term roomie- God brought her within the week. Her name was Natasha, and she was coming from Nevada and needed a place to stay while she looked for a more permanent home.

Natasha had grown up “Christian,” but had a rough childhood. Both her parents were alcoholics and her mom killed herself when Natasha was 12. These are things I can’t even imagine. When she came to live with me, she was completely content with her faith. She literally had no idea that there was more to be had. Her plan was to come to college and live the typical college life. But over the weeks she started to grow curious about things, beginning with the basics and eventually grilling me with questions from “What is baptism?" to “Why does God talk to you and not me?”

Natasha

Of course, throughout her time here I was praying for something big to happen in her heart- something that has happened with every girl who has come through here and that I know God desires for them. Finally, she found a place to move- in I.V. If you’re not informed about I.V, go back and read my first post. I am so in love with that little town, but am also aware that it’s not for everyone. So, I began to pray the bold, specific prayers I first became acquainted with at Ellerslie. Namely, that she would not leave my house without one of those crazy, life-altering changes that God always seems to have up His sleeve. And that it would happen by Wednesday, the day she was moving out.

And then, she moved out. Nothing had happened. As soon as my sneaky little mind had time to conjure up the thought, “Why didn’t God do it?” He responded with, “Blessed are those who have not seen and still have believed.” Well, that solved it, He did do it. I just didn’t know what it was yet. This supernatural conversation took place throughout work on Thursday, and just as I was heading home, I got a call from her. In tears.

“Are you going to be home soon? I need to talk… can I move back in?”

I wasn’t surprised, but I was still overwhelmed with emotion. Because He is faithful every.single.time. Without fail. Regardless of me.

She came home and explained that in the past week, God had made it abundantly clear that He was putting a choice in front of her, she had come to a fork in her life. He had showed her it was her way or His. How many times have I prayed Jim Elliot’s prayer, “Father, make of me a crisis man. Make me a fork, so that men must turn one way or another on facing Christ in me.” She decided to go her own way… but after only one night had fallen at the foot of the cross and ran back into His arms.

A few days later, she explained when the stirring in her heart had begun. She had no interest in growing in her faith, and no idea that’s what was in store for her. The first day she moved in with me, we had a going away party at our house for one of my friends from Adorn. (In case I haven’t explained, Adorn is my church’s Friday night service for twenty-somethings, and is the most amazing thing I have ever been a part of on earth.) Natasha told me about how she was excited for the party because she was going to get to meet a ton of people her age. What she wasn’t expecting was that all anyone at the party wanted to talk about was God.

“You guys talked about God like most people gossip,” she said. “At first I thought it was just you, but I kept going up to different groups of people, and it was always the same. It was like He was the center of your lives, and everything you did had to do with Him. You just can’t be around people like that and not want what they have.”

Adorn

Whoa. Isn’t it crazy the things He uses to drastically change lives? Here we are, 100 twenty-somethings thinking we’re gathered just to eat food and hang out, not realizing He is using our normal, everyday conversation to bring His prodigal daughter home.

It's Going to be Wild

I’m in the middle of reading Chasing the Dragon. I know, I can’t believe I’ve waited this long either. That book has been an amazing encouragement to me, knowing I’m being sent into similar things. The thing is, I always think of Jackie Pullinger as a different kind of missionary than I am (and pretty much everyone in America). Sure, we’re all telling people about Christ, working through drugs, alcohol, homelessness, and poverty, but I’m not dealing with the sex trade or corruption or any of those other situations I don’t know how to deal with. And I was planning on NOT having to deal with that until I was sent. But the thing is, I AM sent, and this weekend, I felt it for the first time.

On Saturday, I got a call from a friend telling me about Jaimie. She was 17, had only moved to America from the Philippines a few months prior, and was living in a tiny apartment in San Diego with her mom, sister, and brother. On Friday, she called a friend back in the Philippines in hysterics, confiding that her uncle (who lives next door) had tried to rape her. It wasn’t the first time. This friend called another friend who was in America, who then called me, because she knew I was in California. I said I could be there by Monday.

I arrived at this precious girl’s apartment and her sister, brother, and cousins were all waiting for me with a pizza dinner. She said she had told her aunt I was from the Philippines, because she won’t let them be friends with anyone else (although I’m not sure how that worked, since I ‘m clearly quite white). Everyone was so excited to see me. They were amazed I had graduated college. I felt like I had entered another world. After we ate, Jaimie asked everyone to go in their bedroom (yes, that’s singular) and let us talk alone.

She poured her heart out to me in the best English she had, and somehow I understood everything. Her mom was back in the Philippines for ovarian surgery because it’s free there (I will never understand the “Christian” view of universal healthcare, but I’m not even going to go there), so she was staying with her aunt and uncle. She had no father, so her uncle had taken that place in her life. She looked up to him, respected him, and loved him. Which made what had happened to her all the more painful and confusing.

She shared about how she was so excited to come to America because that stuff isn’t supposed to happen here. Back home, her older sister had been close friends with a man Jaimie called only “authority.” I’m pretty sure that means he was a police officer. Jaimie often went along for the ride when her sister would meet up with this man and his friends, and would see them exchanging money, but never thought too much about it. Then one day, her sister told her to get out of the car and go with her. She saw the money exchange hands, and felt like something was off, but still didn’t understand. The “authority” then took her hand and pulled her into a room with him. She was crying, but he didn’t care. She said that was the day she lost her innocence.

She asked me why God was doing this to her, why He was mad at her, why would things like this happen if He existed. She had begun to lose her faith. I was in so far above my head I just kept telling the Lord He had to speak for me. And that’s what He did. We sat there talking, crying, and eventually laughing. Of course I invited her to come live with me, but she’s only 17 and can’t leave home because she contributes to the family income. We were getting deep into the conversation and I was about to pray for her, when her aunt burst through the door and yelled, “Fire!”

We ran outside and were rained on first by ash from the fire and then water dropped from a helicopter. We had to put our shirts over our mouths to breathe. We stood watching for a while, but then everyone had to go inside. Jaimie said goodbye and that she’d call me. I started walking back to my car, confused, trying to take everything in, but found I was blocked in by fire trucks, police cars, and firemen. So, I went toward the fire. I sat there watching it, breathing in the smell of the smoke, praying. I watched as the fire cut through brush like nothing, and was reminded of just how fragile and fleeting this life is. And I prayed.

And I’m still praying. I still don’t know what to make of everything. That’s why I’m posting this story- so you will pray for Jaimie. I don’t even know how to be more specific than that. We’ve been talking over the phone, and I’m heading down there again this weekend.

When God first asks us to choose this life, He doesn’t say it’s going to be easy, or always make sense, or not break our hearts. But He does say it’s going to be wild, and great, and full of Him. And that’s exactly what it is.

"We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you." 2 Chronicles 20:12

"Come away with Me, come away with Me.
It's going to be wild, it's going to be great,
it's going to be full of Me."