Below is a blog by one of our WLs, Stacie King, who attended leader training this past weekend. On Sunday she met a woman at a gas station, who asked for a ride to Atlanta. She called and asked us to pray for wisdom for how to minister to this lady….and what an incredible story she has to share!
This weekend I've been at AIM's project leadership training. Essentially, it's a weekend filled with encouragement, training and spiritually equipping a group of people that are hungry to see a sleeping generation wake up. It's been amazing! I'll be blogging about everything I experienced and learned soon, but first I want to share a story from today.
I'll warn you – there will be some suspense because this story will be spread out over several installments. It's not just to annoy you (even though it might!)…it's simply because God did SO much through this encounter that I think it's best relayed in smaller increments and not just one HUGE blog.
Today, on my way to the last day of training – I stopped at the gas station.
Hand sanitizer ready, I started filling up my car. I was inside my head, processing everything from this weekend when I heard a voice. Shockingly, it wasn't coming from inside my head. I looked over to see a lady standing by the end of my car and realized she had just said, “Hi.”
I smiled and as I said, “Hey” – I quickly scanned her appearance. She appeared to be in her late forties and it was evident that she hadn't been fortunate enough to shower any time lately. She wore baggy clothes that were soiled and stained. Everything about her seemed faded – the color in her clothes, the vibrance of her hair…her eyes held no indication that hope dwelled within. Sweat seemed to float on her oily face, compliments of the 90 degree weather here in Georgia. She had nothing with her but my heart could feel the unseen baggage of defeat that accompanied her each step.
She asked me how I was and wondered if I were heading to Atlanta today. I smiled and told her that I hadn't planned on but that I would consider a random road trip there. I asked her why she needed to go there and we spent the next ten minutes discussing the fact that her daughter lived there, she hadn't seen her in almost two years and that she was so very tired of being alone. She wanted a relationship with her daughter and thought showing up on her doorstep after two years of no contact was the best way to proceed. It felt like a pretty text book scenario of someone "down on their luck".
I gave her a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder and told her that I was going to head inside and get a drink and that we'd figure out how to get her there today. On the way in, I called Connie Rock and told her briefly about the encounter I was having and asked her to pray with me. She gave me some encouragement and also let me know that someone would be heading to Atlanta in a little bit for the airport. I knew that somehow, I'd figure out how to get her there, but I wasn't sure exactly what role I would play in the process. On the way out, I decided that God had created this opportunity for me to be able to personally speak into this woman's life. And so, alas – Atlanta here we come!
Armed with juice and muffins, we hit the road. We didn't really talk much for the first few minutes. She inhaled the muffins and I asked for some general concept of where Tammy (her daughter) lived. My focus was so off base at first, too. I mean, it's easy to look at this opportunity and say, “AWESOME! I get to help someone and share a little bit of Jesus with her.” I truly wanted to help her…but I was pretty stuck on the fact that this woman smelled horribly and that she was sitting so closely to me. I also felt a little disappointed that I wasn't finishing up the last day of Project Leadership Training. The fact that I am broke and using a half tank of gas to take this lady to Atlanta wasn't too far from my thoughts either. Truth is, I was pretty stuck on myself and my own agenda for the day.
Instead of systematically launching into the Roman's Road or God's glorious ability to save her from fiery damnation, I said – “Wanda, what's your story?” She asked what I meant and I explained that we all have a story and we live it one day, one page, one chapter at a time. Wanda thought her story had a sad ending and didn't want to share. I reminded her that her story's not even over. That THIS could be the turning point where you breathe a sigh of relief because this season has ended and a new one begins. We shared a small laugh about winter being her least favorite season and she started telling me her story…
Wanda has lived in Gainesville for about two years and lost her job about a year ago. Her daughter was in her early twenties and the stress that Wanda felt rolled down the hill to Tammy. Pretty quickly, communication went out the window and then Tammy went out the door. Wanda showed up a church and someone handed her a piece of paper with instructions on how to receive a blessing for a new job. She followed the instructions for a few weeks but didn't see anything come from this supposed anecdote. I asked her if she was disappointed in God when that happened. She explained that she knew she wasn't good enough to have God bless her…that she brought out the worst in people and wasn't surprised that it didn't work because God was, ultimately, disappointed in HER.
Soon after this, she lost her house and the “friends” that embraced her initially disappeared pretty quickly. Wanda found herself sleeping behind Walmart, among some broken down boxes. In order to amuse herself that night she said, “I thought if I were going to live among boxes, I'd at least be IN one and not just sitting on them.” She thought this was pretty funny. I wasn't so amused. See now I wasn't so stuck on myself…I couldn't move past the part where she said that she KNEW she wasn't good enough for God's attention. Nothing could be further from the truth.
It was at this point when she told me that she had a dream last night that she was hugging her daughter and coins were falling from the sky. And then my jaw dropped.
For the past two weeks, I've been having this picture come to my mind several times a day of these damaged, dusty coins. In this picture, I basically watch them go through the process of restoration and the simple reality that the appearance of something does NOT indicate its value and that the only one qualified to not only make that assessment but to RESTORE that value is someone who is an expert. As complicated as people are – you and I probably agree that the only expert on our damaged, dusty selfs is the Creator. And that Creator is GOOD and desires to RESTORE us and use the pain for purpose. In these past two weeks I cannot get "Restoration comes after damage" out of my head.
Turns out God's agenda is lining up to be a little bigger than mine for today…
More to come soon….you're not going to want to miss what happened!
