Miss Gina

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As I kid, my sister and I would go to this church group every Wednesday night during the school year. It was called Girl's In Action (GAs as some of you might know it). My Mom was a leader for our group every year. We would go and learn about the lives of various missionaries, how they sacrificed and the really cool projects they implemented abroad. Because of this program, I gave my life to Christ at the age of 8, and my life to missions at the age of 9. Since then, I have had an obsession with living abroad, which should hopefully happen in the next year. But this blog is actually about my mother.

I think I can safely say that my mom was the favorite mom. The girls all called her "Miss Gina". I think it was because she was so silly. She made everyone laugh. They played games and told jokes. Sang ridiculous songs about fried ham for example. But at the same time that she was the fun one who would let us break the rules - put frogs in people's sleeping bags and stay up late - she was also silently living what Christ taught. She didn't have to be overt about what Jesus taught. She was living the essence of the fruit of the spirit - patience, gentleness, kindness, compassion, faithfulness, love, joy, self-control and so on (and I realize compassion isn't written, but it is implicit). I think it is my mother's humility and selflessness that I admire the most. It seems beyond my capacity to understand or imitate, though I try. She works so hard for everyone but herself. And I believe God will reward her generously in the end. But it is here and now that I am puzzled and inspired by the consistency.

Thank God for my mother who teaches me everyday, in the simplest of ways, how to walk in Christ.

John

Recently, I worked the Solar Rock concert. Afterwards, I was supposed to meet up with some friends from CRU for a worship night at The Kingdom (a friend's house). I asked my boss if I could take some sandwiches to share with my friends. On the drive, I knew that the sandwiches would bless my friends. If only I knew how true that would be. The worship night itself wasn't particularly moving for me, but what followed was incredible. One of the guys at the worship night suggested that we go share our sandwiches and our love with people on 4th Ave in such a way that Jesus can't help but be brought up. We split into groups of 3 or 4 and hit the streets with 7 sandwiches, 7 apples, and 7 waters. As we walked, I thought about Jesus feeding the people.

We walked up and down the avenue sharing our food. One particularly funny encounter was when Karyn was hit on by an old man. "Girl, I can barely see, but you are FINE!" Of course, Karyn took it with grace as we all chuckled.

We met up with a gentlemen named John who was digging through the Goodwill pile. He had just found himself a book on Saints. We talked with John for quite a while about life's hardships. He had lost his backpack, and began to tell us about how little 'things' really matter. We talked about the importance of a relationship with God, and his love for Jesus. We took turns praying healing prayers, lifting John up to God. I could tell we had touched him at a soul-level. He had truly touched us all.

I personally felt God laying his past sins on my heart. I didn't have a feeling that he needed to repent. I felt that he needed to know for sure that God had forgiven him, and that God was preparing the best for him in heaven. I quoted "the first will be last, and the last will be first". I encouraged him that God could answer prayers in this life, too. I can't tell you how much compassion we all felt for John. We ran into him later that evening walking back. We got to hear more about his past, how he had t-boned a family when he was driving 85 mph trying to escape the cops. He had been drunk at the time. The father died 6 times on the operating table before he was revived. Apparently, he was under the influence while he was driving his wife and their 6 week old baby. When John got out of his wrecked car, he thought he had killed that little baby. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Thankfully, the baby was just asleep.

John taught us that night that we are all capable of wretched things. I knew this about myself already. But we all need to be reminded so that we don't forget. He warned us that just one mistake can set your life on a completely different path. I will remember that when I see people like John on the streets, people like me.

Parachuting Hearts Smiling As They Fall

So, it has been a while since I did this project. There were a few more encounters that I had during the rainy season. Unfortunately, I cannot remember them all. There is one that sticks out in my mind.

I went to the bus station in downtown Tucson one more time. I had this special umbrella. It had artsy drawings of hearts with smiles parachuting from the sky. The umbrella was chipper, joyful. I knew that it would take a special person to give that umbrella to, not just anyone. So I sat at the bus station, unsure who I was supposed to give the umbrella to. I prayed while I waited. Some time passed. I was nervous. Here I am - a small girl waiting at the downtown bus station late at night. Did I mention that I was all alone?

Anyway, finally this women comes and sits down across from me. She's different from the rest of the crowd who doesn't seem too happy about being out in the cold rain. This was a hispanic woman, probably in her late thirties or so. She was wearing crocs with socks. (Keep in mind it's raining.) Her gray sweatshirt has a picture of Grumpy from Snow White. She smiling while she sits. I smile back, refreshed that someone could be happy waiting to catch a bus in the rain. She struck up a conversation with me about what a rough night she had this evening. She said her partner had to be rushed to the hospital. She wanted to go meet her partner, but didn't know how to drive a stick-shift - her only means of transportation. So, she and her friend jump in this stick-shift Jeep and try to improvise. They ruin the Jeep, and have to find other means to get to the hospital.

The whole time she was telling me this story, she was cheerful, smiling even. She laughed as if she just knew that troubles were part of life. There was a joy there, worthy of a parachuting heart umbrella. I stood up and told her I wanted to give her that I had been waiting for a kind person to give the umbrella to. She smiled. I thanked her for being so very kind and friendly.

Every time that it rains, I remember stories like these. I remember the passion that I felt when I got in my car truly believing that God would send me someone to help. I just wanted one life to be touched, even if only by a small gesture like an umbrella.