Her eyes had hands—with them, she pulled me close, close enough for me to see inside. I saw a single bottle, and it was full of tears. Who was this woman? She’s in line, but so are others. All have needs, but I felt we had need of her. I decided to speak.
“Ma’am, what is your name?” “Mona.” She replied. She seemed surprised to say her own name, surprised that anyone would even care to know it.
Vapor was busy at ministry. We were handing out necessities to those in need. But sometimes those to whom we minister, minister more powerfully to us.
I quickly learned why her eyes had so much reach. Her physical hands could not reach at all. The more I tried not to stare, the more staring became inevitable. Each finger was shriveled, deformed. Her skin peeled like paint. A sense of embarrassment cultivated from decades of shame overtook her otherwise pleasant demeanor. I tried to look at others, tried to make busy work, but I could not stop looking at Mona.
I learned she was an impoverished 53-year-old lady. A few words in and she spoke of her son. The conversation fell as quickly as it lifted as she explained her son was recently killed in a motorbike accident.
We spent focused time with Mona. We talked. We listened. We prayed. We offered the peace that passes all understanding from the Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ. The initial gift of much-needed food immediately overwhelmed her. Floods of gratitude poured from her lips. With additional conversation and care, the pain and anguish in her eyes dimmed. Mona knew we saw her that day, but more importantly, she saw God. He saw her, and in His infinite grace sent us to care for her.
Every week we visit Mona and pray with her. And because of people like you who supply us with resources, we are able to take Mona to a hospital where she is getting much-needed physical help. Each week she is getting stronger: physically, spiritually, and emotionally. We praise God because today, if you were to pass by her house, you would see her smile. The pain, loss, and emptiness once bottled in her eyes have now been replaced with overflowing hope.
We serve a real God. He is Hope to the hopeless. He is Friend to the friendless. His is El Roi-“The God who sees me.” God made Himself known to Mona that day. He shall be faithful all the days of her life.
When you give, you allow heavenly regeneration to be where you cannot go. It is because of you that those who previously had no hope, now hope in the Lord. Thank you!