“Seriously? Why are we here?
These people are very financially well off and have their lives together. They don’t need us as badly as the adults and children in the townships. This is a waste of our time.” These were a few of the thoughts running through my head as we stepped into the fancy accounting office.
I expected our time with these business men and women to be quite ordinary. Sitting in a circle we would worship and pray, and then we would be on our way to the next place.
However, this particular ministry opportunity took a twist I hadn’t anticipated.
While we were singing, I couldn’t help but notice the angelic voice of the woman beside me. I spent the majority of that time quietly listening and enjoying the pure and beautiful voice as she worshiped God. A short while later, a whisper crept into my mind, “Tell that woman that I see her. Tell her that my protective hand is over the situation burdening her heart.” I shoved the thought aside. Our time for praying would come, and who was I to interfere with the order. However, the tiny whisper turned into a scream I could ignore no longer. I had to tell her.
I proceeded to share with this woman that God could see her, and that he was protecting her and her family. As an afterthought, I added, “I also feel like I’m supposed to tell you that you’re a really good mom.”
What followed was a steady stream of tears and heartache released to Jesus.
This woman shared with me the horrific news she found out a mere day earlier and the burden she was carrying for her precious daughter. We spent the next hour praying and encouraging one another while we cried and laughed in between sniffles. Before I left that conversation and special moment, I had to share with this lady, of course, just how beautiful her voice was and how much it touched me. She then just laughed and said, “You must be an angel. I have always believed my voice was horrible. I’ve wanted to join the choir at church, but I’ve been too scared. I asked God to bring me someone who believed in me and my voice. That someone is you.”
As I exited the “fancy office” that day, that woman’s shining face remained imprinted in my mind. Though she may have had it all together on the outside, she didn’t have it all together on the inside. She was hurting and burdened. I was blessed to be able to help her lift that burden. I now realise more than ever that I can’t stick a label on who needs Jesus.
Yes, the people living in the streets need Jesus, but not any more than the woman in the fancy office.
by Bekah Waterhouse
YWAM Sports DTS Staff