On a breezy Wednesday morning, inside the church we’ve been serving at for two weeks in Guatemala, I sat in front of a board of prayer requests in Spanish, weeping.
Our job had been simple. Intercede for two hours for the community. I felt a little antsy. A little confused about what I was going to spend my time on. “I can’t even read any of this.” I decided to put in some work, so I plugged the words into Google translate one by one. I noticed quickly that there was a theme. These were the requests of women, the pleadings of Mamas and big sisters and teenage girls hoping for better work for their husbands, health for their parents, education for their children, and the list goes on. I thought about those women, women like me, my age, the same heart and flesh I wear, the same inheritance in Christ, and yet, our lives look vastly different.
When I was learning to ride a bike – they were caring full time for their siblings. The first time I had a nightmare, I ran to slink between my Mom and Dad to rest – their parents might be out at all hours of the night leaving them at home. When I got my driver’s permit – they were rejecting advances from a man that lives in their home. When I graduated high school – they were already caring for a 3 year old they had too young. When I went to college – they had accepted a fate that they would never learn to read. When I went out for champagne to celebrate my first job – they were up worrying if they had enough money for rice.
I thought about my parents, how much I’ve been adored, cared for, cleaned, fed and carefully protected my whole life. How even now, at 31 years old, they would give it all to see me healthy and happy. I thought about how even without my parents there is a line blocks long of people that would take me in, provide for me, pray for me, love me. If I needed it. Which. Frankly. I probably won’t. It’s not even a threat.
I wept. I wept for 30 minutes straight.
A couple of days before, we had entered into a home of a boy that had suffered a motorcycle accident. His mom invited us in to pray. At one point our host spoke over her a series of things that brought her to tears – “You’re doing a good job Momma. The Lord sees how much you care for your family and how you want them to follow Christ. He’s so proud of you.”
It was for her. Not me. But in some kind of space-time continuum, I felt what she was feeling. Maybe it was the acknowledgment from the Lord, the being seen. I just know what it feels like to be striving without affirmation and in that moment the Lord wanted to talk to her and say “Hey, I see you.” I’m not a mother and I don’t know what it’s like to have babes but I do have a mother’s heart and I do love with responsibility and fierceness. Hearing that just clicked something in me. I wept.
So when the water works started again thinking about these women and thinking about their mother’s hearts, I noticed the pattern.
“Lord? Are you putting these women specifically on my heart right now?”
The ministry we serve is focused on an entire community comprised of about 700 people. Our hosts include serving everyone, all the time, but their program focus is on the littles all the way up to those in their early 20s. They have done an amazing job loving these guys and have invited us in to all of it. It’s our purpose while we are here. The one given to us by them at least. I asked our host “Do you ever do women specific teachings or identity exercises or anything?” She told me, “They’re all out drinking, it’s not really something we’ve tried.”
That’s when God began to whisper to me.
He said “Tell the women how I see them. Feed my sheep, Lindsey.”
I’m an executer by trade, a planner by training. My mind can be a machine gun when it’s time to get something done and put all the little gears in place. I can see it. Where they all fit, the possibilities for things, etc. It’s how God made me. So as I began to sift through what God was asking me to do, I remembered, “Isn’t there a women’s event thing that the World Race does? Ah yea, It’s called Beauty for Ashes. I wonder if the gals on my team would be up for doing something like this for the women?”
There were hours of work that came after this: Asking our hosts if it is even possible and if anyone would come, finding hundreds of pages of materials, sifting through it and figuring out what is culturally relevant, translating the material, invites, making posters, schedules, decorations, hiring a translator, hiring cooks, figuring out live worship, etc. The team has put in WORK and we, led by the Holy Spirit, have gotten to a place where invites go out tomorrow and we will be leading a 3 week series for about 40 women where we teach them who they are in Christ.
It wasn’t asked of us. It wasn’t on our human agenda. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t required- all ingredients to the recipe for when God asks you to step out of your comfort zone, into the unknown, and do something HE wants you to do.
There are language barriers, cultural barriers, illiteracy and a whole herd of spiritual strongholds against us.
There are questions like “Will they think I’m just another white lady trying to tell them something?”, and “What if I don’t say the right things?” and “Will anyone come?” and “Will this even leave an impact?”
There are insecurities and doubts and an already busy ministry schedule and tired heads and sick tummies and a thousand other things that could leave us with a “Maybe we shouldn’t…..”
BUT
When Christ is for us, who can be against us?
I’m inspired by the fact that my team continues to press on even when there are unknowns, even when their bodies aren’t at top notch and even when they feel like they are taking on something they have no experience in. I’m encouraged by the fact that our host said “These women have likely never heard any of this before.” I’m excited because we have a translator, so I can speak from my heart and tell a bit of my story in my own words and they will know what I’m saying. I’m lit up knowing that most teams never make it to Beauty for Ashes execution, they just get the training and then get overwhelmed and don’t do it.
But the best part, the part that lights me up big is – God is with us. The Holy Spirit will fill me. He asked me to do it. It’s His dream. So He will work in it. I know that.
As I write this I feel tears welling up again thinking that the little boy with the angry Mom might get a hug after these three weeks, that the prostitutes might shake off their shame, that the teenager might be inspired towards education and that the woman with nine tiny girls raising them all alone might feel hope again.
We walk in faith, knowing that the things God will do might be unseen on earth but will be creating fireworks in heaven.
***The retreats are February 2, 9, and 16th. They’ll be held at 6:30-8:30 CST.
I’ll be asking for 10 women to sponsor one woman’s retreat cost at only $10. Would you seek the Lord and consider donating directly to me for this? It will need to be on venom or cash app.
Additionally, the Lord spoke to me “Bathe this in prayer” so I’ll be asking other world race teams and friends to intercede during this time for the Holy Spirit to move while we put on these retreats. Reach out to me directly to get involved!
