As I near my last day and as the morning of my last day passes, I am amazed how many friends and students stop by, phone or text to wish me well and to pray God's blessings as I leave.
These little kindnesses deposit such a rich blessing into my life. I am continually amazed by the simple kindnesses my friends from Africa show me time and time again. I must admit there is a beauty and a warmth to their highly relational culture… thank you my friends, thank you for all your many kindnesses. Until we meet again… by for now.
For the past week and a half, I have been sharing the Seminary Guest House with Africans from all across the continent. They are leaders in the IFES (International Fellowship of Evangelical Students). IFES is indigenous college campus ministries akin to Campus Crusade or InterVarsity or Navigators. They are at the seminary for 2 months doing biblical and theological studies together.
It has been such a joy getting to know sister and brothers from Gambia, Botswana, Tanzania, Sudan, Kenya, Uganda and the list goes on. We have laughed and prayed and chatted and share stories and watched the World Cup together and generally encouraged one another as we are all separated from homes and families.
Last night on the eve of my leaving they surprised me. Each night they gather for 30 or so minutes of prayer and encouragement, they have welcomed me into their gatherings as my schedule permitted. And last night as they concluded they asked to pray for me and send me home with their blessings. I was touched by the words they offered by way of encouragement and thanks and blown away by their prayer for me, my ministry and calling, my family and my church. I was so incredibly blessed by their love, passion and prayers.
It has been a special gift getting to know these new friends spread across the landscape of Africa. I conclude this entry with a prayer I prayed for them after I floated back to my room on the wings of their prayers for me:
May the Lord God bless and keep you, may His face and smile be upon you…and be with you protecting, upholding and blessing you as you do His kingdom work. And now to paraphrase Paul in Colossians 1:
I pray for you and ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all spiritual wisdom and understanding. I pray this in order that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and may please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light. Hallelujah may it be so.
The body of Christ is a blessed thing… Thank you Lord for all these new friends!
Sunday morning I was ready when Jay arrived, I grabbed my gear, checked out and walked to his truck. As Jay turned the key… nothing! Not a whimper, not a click, nada! He got out and fiddled with the battery cables, still nothing.
We seized on the slight incline of the driveway and attempted to push start the truck… nope. We even had another hotel guest try to jump us with Jay's jumper cables… even that failed.
So now on plan C or D we walked out to the street in front of the hotel and hoped for a 'taxi' (a chabba) which in Nigeria is a guy on a motorcycle who takes passengers. I have seen a family of 4 plus the driver on one bike! The funniest thing I have seen is a tie… it is between the driver and passenger balancing and holding a queen-size mattress on their heads as they drive down the road or the driver and passenger balancing and holding a 3-person couch on their heads! No lie!!!
I digress, in moments a chabba arrived and Jay explained where I needed to go we shook hands and off we sped (this bike at least had power) chabba driver in front with me dressed in a suit and tie with Bible in hand seated behind. Fortunately, Jay held on to my suitcase for me.
I even arrived at church on time, a little dirtier than I expected but safe and sound… thank you Lord!
Over the 4th of July weekend while my family was celebrating with fireworks and parties, I was on an preaching adventure to Gombe State. In my last post I shared how wonderful the big big man was to me when I traveled to his home region. Now I want to share of my other adventures.
After settling into my hotel and eating lunch my former student returned to pick me up and take me on a tour of his town. He arrived on his small motorcycle and off we putted. The bike didn't have much power and my friend seemed particularly timid in driving it. Maybe he was being extra cautious with me as a passenger???
Following our 30-minute driving tour we stopped by this house and church so I could get the lay of the land for tomorrow's preaching and meet his family. They are lovely. His wife was quite busy, she owns and runs the only grinding machine in the area so all the women come to her to have their beans ground into meal/porridge. This little cottage industry helps the family since they are paid with a small portion of the grinding.
While we were visiting the machine stopped working and my friend and his wife tinkered with this and that and got it started again. After another few minutes it stopped again. The diagnosed problem was the sparkplug. My friend disappeared and then reappeared with a new one and it was up and running in no time!
Time came for me to leave for my hotel, and as we climbed on the motorcycle my friend said we will stop to get a new spark plug in town? I was confused. It took numerous cranks to get the bike started, when I realized that he had swapped out his bike's sparkplug and put it in the grinding machine… putting the faulty one in the bike!
Well we had quite a ride, the bike even had less power than before. The slightest "hill" or any slowing for any turn caused the bike to severely sputter. As we entered the main round-about of town -a traffic circle which in the US might be two lanes wide but had 3-4 lanes zipping around it in Gombe, the bike died! Right there in the middle of the circle! YIKES. After 3-4 cranks and cars whizzing past so close that my pant legs waved in their breeze it was clear that it was not starting. Being the only white person I had scene I took full advantage of my uniqueness -people staring at me as they passed- and I stepped out into the traffic and acted as a "stop sign" so we could get out of the circle!
My friend proceeded to shake his bike discovering that not only did he have a bum sparkplug but he was out of gas!!! Pushing the pike a couple hundred feet he bought a liter of gas and maybe 15 cranks later we were riding again… but not far. Around the next bend in the very busy road we stalled out again. Being in a blind spot in the road due to the curve we popped the bike onto the sidewalk where a kind Samaritan stopped to help. He removed the sparkplug and tried to clean it. I don't think it worked because after 15 or so minutes and a few Naira as a thank you we were pushing it again… to where I have no idea?
Refusing to give up my friend stopped after 10 minutes of pushing and on the 3rd crank it roared to life (only kidding it sputtered to life). Eventually we needed to make a left and sure as shooting as he pulled back on the accelerator with two lanes of cars driving right at us it stalled once again… by God grace we coasted through to the other side of the intersection. However a car, following us in the turn came within millimeters of hitting us as he swerved to get past us and out of the oncoming lanes. I know my pant legs brushed the car as it avoided us.
Un daunted, my friend cranked the bike again and after less than a handful of cranks we putted off to the home of a missionary friend he wanted me to meet. (Not bad it only took 80 minutes for a 10-minute drive!)
Jay the missionary drove me to my hotel (thank you Lord) and took my friend home. The bike will be fixed another day. And the best news, Jay offered to pick me up in the morning and drive me to the church…
Last weekend I made a preaching excursion to Gombe State about 3 hours from Jos. I had many African adventures, but those hopefully will be for another blog post.
The big big man I have mentioned previously is also from Gombe State and when he learned that I would be traveling to his state, he wanted to bless me, so he arranged for my overnight accommodations… putting me up in a new hotel with AC and TV! He also arranged for all my meals. What a gift. And when we arrived in Gombe by commercial motor car the big big man personally came to pick us up and bring me to the hotel.
I learned too that since it was a new hotel, he personally went and viewed the rooms and checked on the services before booking my room.
What an incredibly wonderful gift from a man I barely know.
Unfortunately he had to leave after taking me to the hotel because he had official business in another part of the state that his job necessitated his presence.
He even arranged for an associate to check on me after worship on Sunday to make sure that everything had been okay… what I kind gesture.
A big big man, with a big big heart for God and God's church… My life is richer for meeting him.
I still cannot get used to the just-toss-your-trash-on-the-ground mentality I see all around me here in Jos. A student opens a package of crackers to munch on during break and when he finishes he tosses the wrapper out the class window. Another does the same with an empty plastic water bag. I don't get it.
The classic occurred when they installed a satellite dish at the guesthouse where I am staying. Workers left the cardboard carton, packaging and various sundry papers and pieces of wire strewn across the guesthouse front yard. It rained that night soaking everything. I was flabbergast that they considered their job completed with all this trash lying everywhere. It was the toss-your-trash-on-the-ground mentality on steroids! I see it everywhere I go in and around Jos.
There are few refuse bins and I have seen no garbage trucks to collect trash. If trash is disposed of, it is by creating piles and burning it… the acidic smoke burns the eyes… cough, cough, cough!
To the Seminary's credit, they have refuse bins placed around campus and someone came by the following day to pick up the trash left by the satellite-dish installers. And on the local TV the other night there has a big story that Lagos has purchased a number large garbage collection trucks to deal with the refuse issue in the city…maybe the mentality is changing?! I surely hope so.
Years ago when our two oldest children were tots we went to Disney World. The favorite ride for our kids was "It's a small world." There were times when we got off one boat and walked to the head of the line and got in another to go around again. By the end of the 3-days the song was stuck in my head!
Little did I know then, how true the song's message really is…
Here I am in Jos, Nigeria, thousands of miles from home. Jos has no international tourist draw… and is a 4-hour drive from the nearest international airport. It is not a place many people come to.
The other night I attended a dinner of international missionaries in Jos. There were probably 50 people from a number of mission agencies in the west. Part of the program was to encourage connection so before we could eat we had to speak with at least 2 others we didn't know. Not hard for me, I didn't know anyone. The first woman I spoke with was from England teaching orphans and setting up a training center for the children to supplement the local school which is inconsistent at best. The next person was a young mom with an infant daughter. As we shared our stories we were both stunned to learn that we had lived in the same town, Mason, Ohio at the same time. Although we never met in Mason, here we were talking about the town, our churches and all kinds of connections… go figure ¼ of the way around the world and we lived in the same town in the US.
Then on the desert line I met a woman from the CRC (Christian Reformed Church of Canada). Again we shared our stories and knowing 1 or 2 CRC pastors I tossed out the name of a friend who serves on a ministry team with me for a renewal ministry. It is a small world; my friend was a classmate of this missionary woman's husband in seminary 15 or so years ago. We chatted up a storm before the evening ended.
Driving home that night I thought yes it is a small world, and getting smaller I venture to say. And connections within Christ's body make the world even smaller.
Rereading my last entry, I want to add a follow up. I hope I didn't convey some kind of subtle negative or pejorative about the big big man I observed. Noting could be further from the truth. He is a fine man, friendly and polite not condescending in any way. He regularly stops to greet me and others and he is dedicated to the Lord. He is taking personal time and using personal money to attend seminary. He knows that the world in which he lives and works can be difficult and that there is a strong pull away from the Lord. Not only that many opportunities arise for him to speak about his faith in Jesus…
--By the way, talking about what one believes here in Nigeria is very comfortable and common place. Whether one agrees or disagrees with the other regarding faith beliefs, each will listen civilly and ask inquisitive questions. The climate to discuss faith is very different here than in the US, where religion is seen to be a personal and private matter. with whom you are sharing faith discussion-- I digress, back to my primary point.
My acquaintance the big big man is at seminary in order to develop his faith so that he can speak well of Jesus when opportunities arise and live well for Jesus in the face of the pressures of his profession.
Being a big big person or a small small person is merely a station in life in which we live. It is neither an indicator of good or ill… how we live in the station to which God has placed us is what matters and my acquaintance is both a big big man and a good good man.
I am a bit of a people watcher and I have watched with interest the man in the room next to mine at the guesthouse. He is what Nigerians refer to as a 'big big man.' He is an Advisor to a State Governor. He is a wonderful gentlemen who is taking personal time and using personal funds to study at seminary. He wants to build up his faith, especially for the job in politics he has. As a big big man, he lives differently than the average Nigerian.
His 'bigness' shows in the clothes he wears. He generally is wearing a full Nigerian suit, neat and pressed with none of the usual signs of wear most Nigerian clothing displays.
He is traveling with an assistant, a young man who stays in separate room (remember this man is paying for everything personally). The young man carries his bags, books, etc , I wonder if he young man sits in the class with his boss???
The man owns a nice Toyota Aveno; fairly new in good condition – very fine by Nigerian standards- which he drives each morning to class, maybe a 5- minute walk.
What I first caught my attention was that young aid who washes the car every morning. Even today when for some Nigerian reason there is no water, the aid uses his wash rag dry and wipes the entire car down. A nice car is something, but a nice clean car is clearly a status symbol here in Nigeria!...
Interesting isn't it… every country, every area has its own ways to display your 'bigness.'
I guess some things are the same no matter where you live…
The other day I visited with the woman who cooks for me. She is a student at JETS and works for the Guest House for scholarship. Most students do jobs around the seminary to help pay their fees. I got the scoop on school fees and heard a great story of God's provision. But first the scoop:
Tuition is 3500N per credit hour. A regular load is 6 classes or 18 hours/semester, which translates into 63,000N tuition per semester
Housing or Hostel fee is another 15,000N per semester. My cook lives in a small 2 room apartment with her husband and 2 year old daughter.
Then there are sundry fees for computer usage & internet, typing, books, etc. and don't forget food.
Costs add up…
Last semester my cook was 62,000N short even after her scholarship of 20,000N plus some money she was able to pay towards her fees.
The last week of classes she went to the Provost to see what could be done and he had to tell her, "If you don't have the fees don't bother to write your exams."
She was devastated, she had no idea what she was going to do (a full time monthly wage might be 15000N). She only had 1 or 2 days to find that kind of money. Leaving the administration building she ran into a woman she new from her time as a missionary in Gombe state. The woman was a successful business woman who would donate her unsold clothing and merchandise to the mission… that's were the national missionaries got their shoes and jeans and things. They hadn't seen each other in 3-4 years. The woman said she wasn't sure why but she told her husband we must go to JETS today. As they chatted and woman learned of my cooks troubles she took out her checkbook and wrote a check for 62,000N on the spot. "I guess this is why God brought me to JETS today," she said with a smile.
My friend ran to the bank cashed the check, paid the Bursar, who said "I have been praying for you." She wrote her exams with a glad and relaxed heart. Praise the Lord!
My student returned to class on Tuesday and his daughter if getting much better. I learned that her health conditions were worse than he initially told me. She has problems with an extended soft-spot on her head and an abdominal infection and other "issues." They were able to take her to a special hospital and she is improving… Thank you Lord, for doctors and prayer!!!!
And the older woman in my church… she is home and fine. Apparently it was just too much heat.
I am reminded by these that yes, life is frail, but God grace is greater than our frailties…
Arriving for class on Monday, I take attendance and notice one student is absent. This is highly unusual. The others tell me that he traveled home for the weekend and stayed there because his young daughter is ill. We pray for her healing and for him. I recall that the first day his prayer request was for his 8-day old daughter with and 'abdominal infection.' I don't exactly know what's happening, sounds like she might have been taken to the hospital this weekend? O Lord I pray that you will show mercy to this family and heal this young child.
My student's situation is a potent reminder to me about the frailty of life here in Nigeria… much more frail than in the US. My heart weeps… Whatever her situation you can be certain that the medical care she is receiving is not nearly what she would receive in my country.
During my break I call my assistant in the US to check in and learn that an older member of my church family went to a picnic Sunday and ended up in the hospital. After getting her phone number I called to learn from her that, by God's grace she was fine, but that and I quote, "she stood too long in the heat for an old person." Another reminder of life's frailties.
Yesterday, Friday 25June, was a full day, I was busy from 8:30 am till 9:30 pm when I finally returned to the JETS guesthouse. Unfortunately, by time the generator was off for the night and the guesthouse was pitch black and locked. After some knocking and banging the door was opened and I group my way to my room and fall into bed.
The biggest downside of today was that I was not able to charge my computer, so when I booted up Saturday morning my computer had only a few minutes of batter left. I opted to head to my office in the administration building, for some reason the Admin Building has much more reliable NEPA (electricity) and it had NEPA. Unfortunately it was just a tease,the NEPA lasted only 10 minutes… booo.
So on to plan C… my one hope for Saturday ws to find an internet café to email home, post blogs and now possibly charge my computer… I am off on adventure.
I was directed to an internet café only five minute walk from the campus. I found it easily and hope began to build. It is small and was packed with people perched at each computer. I asked the attendant if there was a plug so I could charge my computer while I waited. I don't think she understood me and said, "No." I waited outside for maybe 10-minutes and them moved inside (it was hotter but I thought I might not be forgotten if she could see me. I do stand out being the only white person. By the grace of God a friend, Augustine, came in shortly and he chatted on my behalf and guess what they found a plug!!! So I sat and typed a bit as my computer charged, waiting for a computer or port to open up.
Soon enough Augustine was finished… somehow he was given a port right away. I moved into his spot; hope grew. I have emails to send and blogs to post and most of all I longed to feel connected to my world.
I plug in the cable, click internet, the tech configures something on my computer and I see it is loading… and loading and loading. It fails, I 'retry'… loading… loading… loading it fails again. Basically I repeat this cycle of hope and frustration for almost 60 minutes. Hope dashed more times than I can count. Finally I give up; it simply isn't worth it. And if the Google homepage takes this long to load, will it load my Gmail page????
Maybe internet is only a figment of imagination here in Nigeria.
Augustine kindly waits all that time with me and we walk back to JETS together. One good thing I did get my computer mostly charged!
Driving from the airport Danjuma and I chatted along the ride home catching up on our families. His niece, the sister of his nephew who came to live with him last year, is now living with him too. Something about the child's grandmother being sick and so the niece needed someone to care for her. I don't know what is up with his brother who is the dad?
Then Danjuma made a surprising statement. He said, "the crisis is good in one way." My puzzled look must have told him to continue because he quickly added, "many people have come to Christ." (A little history, the crisis was a series of 3 sectarian riots in early 2010 tht left hundreds dead, mostly Christians died. The last of the 3 incidents witnessed the violent slaughter of Christian women and children by rogue Muslims.)
I have been chewing on Danjuma's statment. Interestingly my devotions Wednesday 23 June was from Phil 1. In verse 12 Paul writes, "Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me [Paul being imprisoned] has really served to advance the gospel." When I read that I thought wow, Danjuma has a similar view. Things that advance the gospel, even if they are hard things or 'bad' things are good if they advance the gospel. That thought stuck me when Danjuma shared it on the drive to Jos and it hit me again when I read it in Phil 1:12.
How soft I am. I judge most things by how they effect me. Danjuma and Paul look at things through the lens of advancing the gospel.
We almost made it to Jos without a hitch. I was actually beginning to recognize some of the sights when Danjuma got that look on his face, which I could barely see since it was still buried in his hood. The engine began to whine a high pitched cry and he pulled to the shoulder. We drove/coasted on the edge of the road for a ¼ mile until Danjuma found a suitable resting place beside a "carwash."
A carwash is a guy with some water and a bucket and a sign on his little hut. A pretty funny sight.
Danjuma said the engine temperature was high and he had to check the motor. Thankfully Danjuma is a good mechanic as well as driver. I moved to the back seat (the front seat tilts back to get to the engine and it was HOT… classic signs of over heating. I could see the coolant overflow tank was dry.
Grabbing a rag he began to open the radiator lid, steam escaped with violent force. Danjuma grabbed a plastic canister from behind me and then chatted up a storm with the car wash owner returning with a full canister of water. Pouring some into the radiator opening, and some onto the engine itself the water violently vaporized with a hiss.
Replenishing the radiator with water and cooling the engine we were 'on the road again' in 15-20 minutes. I am so glad Danjuma is driving!
This wouldn't be Nigeria if there aren't a few 'bumps in the road.' Speaking of bumps reminds me of potholes… they are everywhere. It is common to be speeding down a highway at 140 kph in the wrong lane in order to avoid the potholes in your lane. I don't know how tires and suspension survive; actually they don't -:)! Sometimes driving seems like a grand game of 'chicken' two vehicles speeding toward each other at high rates of speed, only to have one car swerve into its appropriate lane at the last possible moment.Driving is so much fun...
I missed the middle of the trip falling asleep. My guess is I dozed for 1-2 hours, which was good. I needed the sleep; it would be a long day. I eventually woke because I noticed the van slowing and swerving or swerving and stopping repeatedly. Each swerve caused a head to flop forward or to one side or the other… you have seen someone sleeping in a car. I must have looked a bobble head doll, with all the slowing and swerving, swerving and stopping.
Turns out that all the swerving and slowing or stopping were road blocks by police and military. The road blocks are an added security feature on the main roads around Jos initiated due to the riots during early 2010.
We must have passed through 30-40 road blocks on the way home, sometimes multiple roadblocks were only 200 yards apart. The violence has quelled so obviously the roadblocks and other safety measures seem to be working… Thank you Lord!
I had forgotten how irritating all the pollution is and how acidic the air is in many places in Nigeria. It didn't take long after we began driving from Abuja airport before my eyes began to burn. It wasn't terrible, but annoying. I could feel the sting of irritants in the air. Every car we passed in Abuja, and there were plenty even at 6:30 in the morning, had blue-gray smoke belching out of its tailpipe. No wonder my eyes burned. Within the 15-minutes of our drive home I was blinking and rubbing my eyes.
Fortunately the irritation lessened as we distanced ourselves from Abuja, I am guessing that as we drove into the countryside where there are less vehicles and less people the pollution abates. Makes sense to me.
The next time you get the notice to have your car's emissions tested, don't grumble. Instead be thankful your eyes don't burn every day. Be thankful that the air we breathe is relatively clean and much healthier than many places in the world.
I had to chuckle as pulled out of the Abuja airport. Well Danjuma and I set off for Jos about 6:30 am, the sun was just breaking the horizon… Here I sit in the passenger seat wearing a short sleeve shirt and I am warm. Danjuma, in the drivers seat wears a black fairly heavy winter coat zipped up to the neck with the hood pulled up covering his head! What a contrast. I don't know if we looked funny but I imagined that we did. Our apparel choices reveal the difference living in a warm climate all the time and CT where we are only beginning to enter summer. Admittedly there were a few early on where 2x70 (2 windows open driving 70 miles an hours) was a touch cool but as the sun rose I longed for cool. And next to me sat Danjuma buried in his winter coat all the way home. What a sight we must have been?!?
Every year I travel to Africa there is some glitch. International travel is filled with glitches and travel to developing countries increases the likelihood of them. The glitch began in the US. Two days before leaving my Blackberry phone started having problems; still under warentee they ordered a new one. But when the store set up my new phone, they forgot to transfer the SIM card from my old one. So it worked great in the US, but not at all internationally. I discovered this in my layover in London, but there was nothing I could do about it.
The first line at the Abuja airport was Immigration, the line was pretty short (being in the front of the plane helped). I chatted with a female Dr in front of me casually as we waited. She is an international who lived all her adult life in Nigeria (Kaduna State) with her Nigerian Dr husband. She was returning from holiday to see here daughter graduate. Our chat was friendly and brief, the line moved quickly.
After collecting my bags and passing through customs I entered the Abuja lobby…no sign with my name, or JETS or … I knew JETS knew when I was arriving, but there had not been any confirming emails to let me know who would come to pick me up. I could feel anxiety rising within me. No phone to contact anyone, no driver to meet me. I was feeling isolated and I didn't have many options… I prayed (always an option no matter the problem). I prayed some more and wandered the lobby checking out all the drivers. All I could do is sit and wait… so I sat, prayed and thought. 20 min, 30 min…time ticked by.
What are my options? I wondered if I could ask someone to use their phone??? I retrieved every conceivable phone numbers that might be helpful… Prayed some more. Then it happened… a casual glance made eye-contact with the Dr from the immigration line. She too was seated and waiting half way across the room. She made the first move, mouthing the words, "no driver?"
I mouthed back "No."
"Did you call?" she asked.
"No phone," I responded offering her phone and coming over to sit next to me.
I called Ebere, the friend from JETS who make the arrangements; he didn't answer. But before I could decide on another person to call, Ebere called back. Danjuma (my driver from previous years was in Abuja to drive me) Ebere would call him.
In an instant mu anxiety lifted. I knew they knew I was arriving today. Danjuma is very reliable, maybe he over-slept? Maybe the car had trouble (not a surprise in Nigeria),it didn't really matter they knew I was at the airport and they would come.
Relieved, I visited with my Dr friend. She is an 11-year widow with 3 grown children. Her oldest daughter a Dr in England. Her son a Computer Engineer in England and her youngest daughter just graduated med school and will likely practice in England. My Dr friend carries a sense of loneliness... Rumanian by birth and citizenship she doesn't know where she fits. "Home is where family is," she mentioned. But she has no family in Nigeria anymore?Rumania is so cold, after living in a hot climate like Nigeria or 30+ years, and England where her children live… is foreign to her. Eventually she will likely move to England, but her children are scattered, so where?. Maybe in a couple of years she will figure it out and retire???
Looking back on this episode, it occurred to me that kindness pays rewards. A simple friendly conversation on a line leads, by God's grace and as an answer to prayer, to a phone in my hour of need!
Shortly after the above conversation Danjuma walked in. Oh what a smiling familiar face means in a time of mild stress. I shook hands with the Dr, we exchanged first names and we were off. Like the nameless woman who anointed Jesus' feet in the gospels, this woman whose name I couldn't pronounce extended an act of kindness to me. I wish I had her contact information, without it I doubt we will ever meet or speak again. To me she will be remembered as an angel of mercy in a time of need. Lord Jesus would you please bless her please right now, give her a peace and assurance that she has a home, a place of belonging with you and with her children. And, Lord, if you allow let our paths cross again.
